“The feeling of having done something that didn’t exist before is fantastic”
The scene cannot be more Lambchop: Kurt Wagner attends to me from the porch of his house in Nashville, with his inseparable cap, a cigarette in his hand and a beard that even Moisés did not have. Seconded by the trills of birds. And disappearing from the screen for a few seconds to let his dog leave the house.
The excuse for this interview is “Punching The Clown” (City Slang), the formidable seventeenth album of his career: an excitingly austere work, sustained by a couple of gospel choirs, an acoustic guitar, a piano and the banjo of Justin Vernon (Bon Iver), who offered his own Wisconsin studio for the recording during two days in August last year. It represents a radical change (in terms of sound) compared to their last albums.
It is always comforting to chat with such an affable and lucid musician, who confesses to me – as our conversation closes – that he feels a special connection with Spain, and that he keeps a special memory of his concerts in those small towns that are outside our usual circuit, precisely the ones that bring the least economic returns.
What a turn in terms of sound with this album. I read that it came about after an old gospel song you heard while driving.
Yes, I caught her while I was going to get gas. I never found out whose it was. But I did discover things related to that music and everything it suggested to me. I went for simplicity: some vocals and a banjo. It seemed perfect to me.
Did you feel tired of auto tune, electronics and laptops?
More than tired, I wanted to make music again with my voice, without accessories, and with acoustic instruments. And see how I could apply what I had learned with technology to music that wasn’t based so much on it. A simpler approach from a musical point of view.
As you age, do you feel the need to say more things with fewer elements?
Completely. And I have discovered that it takes more work. It takes more time. I don’t know if it’s age or simply allowing me to focus more and not be distracted by other things. It’s about studying and learning more. And be patient. Some of the things I’ve done in my career were horrible (laughs), or maybe not exactly horrible, but not good enough. And I wanted them to be this time.
A priori, an album built on the banjo sounds boring, but the curious thing is that in this case it is not excessively traditional or stale.
Part of it is working with Ryan Olson, the producer. His approach is very unique. For him it was a challenge. He is more than a producer: he is a member of the band. In fact, I don’t think I could do it any other way (laughs). I think we are both capable of finding something new in any musical context. And that takes it all to a much more interesting place.
“I was a construction worker for a long time, installing wood flooring, and the fact that I could leave it to dedicate myself completely to music already seemed surreal to me”
I understand that the collaboration with Justin Vernon came about in the most natural way, given that you have been friends for many years.
We’ve known each other since he started in music, and we have many friends in common. And it turns out that Ryan (Olson) is Justin’s (Vernon) childhood friend. I thought it would be nice if they worked on an album that wasn’t by either of them, but by Lambchop. I feel lucky.
It is said in the press release that you studied the way of working of some great composers: I do not detect the shadow of any of them.
That’s good! No? (laughs). Believe me: when I get to work, I look up information about certain songwriters or read books about them… but not so much because of the mechanics of their way of writing songs or combining elements. I wonder what makes some of your ideas so good. Why do I like it? Why do they like it? Why do others like it? These are questions that are difficult to find answers to, but they are worth asking. Just the fact of asking yourself makes you discover new things. It doesn’t matter if it’s Miles Davis or Townes Van Zandt: they all convey a truth, even if it’s for themselves. You just have to find a way to apply that to your own music. It’s not about copying them. But to apply that truth to yourself. And sometimes it happens! I can’t tell you how. Based on work and perseverance. And it’s painful, man. It’s not always pleasant. When you get it, it’s amazing. You have the feeling of having done something that didn’t exist before. It’s like doing a puzzle. When you finish it… but you don’t always do it.
The creators you mention have a special depth. I don’t know how you feel about your career. The first time I saw you live was in 1996 at the Plaça del Rei in Barcelona, within the BAM programme, a concert under water, and then five or six more concerts came, each one very different from the other. Like slightly different entities, but always retaining that particular depth and emotion.
I remember perfectly! It was raining, and when we turned off the electricity for safety, we sang something acoustic with Robyn Hitchcock, who was there. It was fantastic. Magical. To answer your question, we never thought our career would be so long. It is unusual that a group of as many as we were then could continue for so long. For some reason, he did. I never allowed myself to imagine it. I thought that in three, four or five years, Lambchop would not exist. I feel very lucky to still be able to keep it afloat. It wasn’t easy. Things changed. But we’ve managed to keep the basic elements we have in common, whatever Lambchop means today.
I have always admired your ability to write about transcendental issues in life from a casual, subtle perspective, even with a sense of humor, without giving it too much importance. A whole art.
I hope so! I enjoy the experience of being an artist, if you can call it that: it is a luxury. I never take anything for granted. I was a construction worker for a long time, installing wood flooring, and the fact that I could leave it to dedicate myself completely to music already seemed surreal to me. I didn’t believe it. And this seemed like a complicated business to me, with aspects that are not fun (laughs). So my goal has always been to make it fun. Every day it is more complicated. But we had a blast making this album. Like when we started, in a way. As if I had reconnected with what drove me in the beginning: making songs and being able to sing them with people. I’ve spent years experimenting with other ways of making a song, exploring its possibilities, and this time, for whatever reason, perhaps because something clicked in my head when I heard that song on the radio, I thought this was all I needed.
Do you think Lambchop could or should have been more popular?
No! (laughs)
You haven’t had any hits. You haven’t even had your own “For Emma, Forever Ago.”
Well, I truly believe that we have been lucky not to have it. My experience with music is complete and sometimes overwhelming. Having us become something else is just what would have made me uncomfortable. I like to work with my friends and maintain loyalty to those people with whom we started this. Everything can change, but I don’t imagine reaching a higher level of success as something fun. And honestly, I don’t even think I deserve it: there are so many other people who are fucking gifted for this, much more than me… for my part, I have ideas, I try to capture them and do the best I can, but I think I’m the least talented of the whole project, what happens is that I have the idea in my head and it’s magical when everything leads to something tangible. As I said, it doesn’t always happen. But you do what you can.
Eight years ago you told me – those were the days of FLOTUS – that Lambchop’s music at that time responded more to the type of things that your wife, Mary Mancini (former president of the Tennessee Democratic Party between 2015 and 2021), likes to listen to, I don’t know if she liked this one more…
I think he likes this one a lot too, from the first moment. He told me he thought it was damn good (laughs).
