A frequent criticism of the double album is that it would have made a better single album. Which is often true: To maintain any kind of consistency over the course of two full discs is a difficult undertaking. But, as with so many other things, Lambchop, Nashville's finest genreless collective, have managed to turn this unspoken rule firmly on its head, by releasing two separate LPs that by all rights should be one double album. Aw C'mon and No You C'mon, released on the same day a la Tom Waits' Alice and Blood Money, each sprang from the same sessions and writing project, and don't differ from each other in any meaningful way-- in fact, they feel more complete together than they do apart.
The story goes that Lambchop ringmaster Kurt Wagner challenged himself to write a song a day for several months, and then chose the cream of the crop for these records-- and a fine cream it is (although one does have to wonder how this strategy led to the inclusion of six instrumentals). It doesn't seem out of the question that Wagner may have chosen this simultaneous-double-release strategy simply for the fun of titling one in response to the other, and in an odd way, that naming convention works: No You C'mon feels like an escalation of the aesthetic of Aw C'mon, pushing just a little harder out of its creaky ballad box than its companion. Both records, however, feel like a logical progression away from the limited range of the band's last full-length, 2002's Is a Woman, an album whose icy, monotone piano balladry and spit-shine polish paled in comparison to the band's impressive back catalog of aggressively eclectic, wonderfully strange country/soul/noise/jazz/etc albums and EPs.
Most of the tempos aren't much quicker this time around-- only the instrumentals break much of a rhythmic sweat-- but the arrangements are a lot more varied, and the huge, fourteen-piece band (that's not even counting the string section) feels more engaged as an ensemble. Aw C'mon works best when the sun is down, when the elaborately arranged strings and downbeat R&B; of songs like "Nothing but a Blur from a Bullet Train" and "Steve McQueen" have their best chance to slowly unfurl and fill in the quiet of the night. "Women Help to Create the Kind of Men They Despise" sounds like it was recorded after beer #9, beginning as a sickly lounge tune and spilling further into leftfield from there, ultimately arriving at a Zappa-worthy choral bit just before staggering to a close. "I Haven't Heard a Word I've Said" is a tangle of wobbly, wah-drenched guitar, Wagner's ragged vocals and some smatterings of piano and other barely noticeable instrumentation.
No You C'mon initially promises to be the sunnier half of the pair, opening with the brisk instrumental "Sunrise", which, apart from a great string arrangement, also features a breathtaking pedal steel solo, one of the few appearances the instrument makes on either disc. But it's back into the guts of the nighttime from there, and the band goes much deeper into darkness this time around, flirting with their edgier days on a few of the ballads, and diving headlong into breakneck noiserock on "Nothing Adventurous Please". The guitars are muddy and abundant, spewing forth sheets of distortion to challenge Wagner's surprisingly snappy melody-- the song is actually reminiscent of some of Lambchop's earliest demos. Wagner sticks to his trademark mumble for the rest of the album, though, allowing the impassive guitars on "Low Ambition" and the swirling strings of "There's Still Time" to do most of the musical talking.
An hour and a half after the first disc began, "The Producer" closes things with a rousing instrumental full of melodic piano, twangy guitars and breezy rhythms, essentially bringing things full circle, and it's clear that Lambchop have regained some of the form they once had. Certainly, they've rediscovered their broad range and proud, sleeve-worn strangeness, and it shows in subtle ways, from the Brazilian shuffle of "The Gusher" to the alternate universe country doo-wop of "Shang a Dang Dang". To say one of these albums is better than the other is basically beside the point-- anyone who buys one will certainly want the other, and both are fairly comparable as far as quality is concerned, anyway. There are better routes into this band's strange world-- namely Thriller, How I Quit Smoking, What Another Man Spills and Hank-- but Aw C'mon and No You C'mon are each worthy albums in their own right and deserve to be heard. Welcome back, Lambchop.
