Is A Classic?

?! Use other words please - sonic pioneers.

MBV scale.

Alright.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced : Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice ! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

It's fucking Kubla Khan. I love it.

I find it has absolutely zero sense of dynamics. Every song runs together, and I really can't pick out one from the other. I thought previous Lambchop was GRATE, but this one baffles me: why release an entire album where one song is indistinguishable from another?

surely the songs ten minutes in is distinguished by being ten minutes in, the one twenty minutes in by being twenty in, etc haha

I do wonder about the listening faculties of anyone who claims that all the songs on Is A Woman all sound the same. Yes they are (mostly) all long and slow and sparse and quiet but within that I find there's a lot of diversity - the jazz piano on The Daily Growl, the way that Bugs slowly uncoils and picks up momentum without actually getting louder of faster, the ghostly choir sound in the background of I Can Hardly Spell My Name. I find there's loads to keep you interested in the album, mostly in the subtleties and little touches.

I also want to take issue with the idea that the album has no sense of dynamic (translation - it's all quiet), the dynamic interest is in the little flourishes and slow buildups and so forth.

I love Is A Woman, it's one of my favourite releases of this year.

My listening faculties are just fine, thanks, though you're probably right in that we're listening for different things on this album and that I should say that there's LESS sense of dynamics on this one than on previous albums. Still, I have found myself wondering where the hell I am on this album, which track I'm listening to. It seems like they rely on the same tricks from track to track, in terms of tempo and tune, and while I know that they are, in fact, doing different things on different songs, I find that arguing about this is going to be a little bit like arguing about the subtleties of arpeggiation on Philip Glass albums. I mean, even Nick references this in his question, but unfortunately it just doesn't grab me like it seems to grab him (or you). I'll admit that it IS beautiful- sounding, too, but I just can't take it for an entire album.

Sean - do you like Loveless?

I see where you're going with that, David, but in my opinion Loveless is far more varied: sure, there's waves and waves of loud guitars on almost every track, but there's at least some letup in places (like "Soon", and the short instrumental track near the beginning).

That! and see my first post on this thread and my various empty threats to expound on why Lambchop = MBV.

For me, I can't listen to Lambchop the same way now that I know Kurt is a professional. Ie., he's quit he's job. Even the albums he did make with sore knees and splinters are now ruined by this quitting. Not that he quit that's the problem: but that they ruined the mystery by making being in a band his job. A big part of Lambchop's magic is their otherworldliness, or to be more specific, and the reason why The Soft Bulletin and Deserters' Songs do work, is their ability to make the familiar alien. To re-cast something that we've already heard into a new mould, or a different shade of an old mould.

Theirs is ghost music. Where once stood country and soul are now wisps of the air's memory of those tints, mere tinctures of their past selves drifting through the room. In their place stands the knowledge of old ways, not the old ways themselves.

Err, sorry.

The songs don't travel from A to B, they wax and wane, weave and wither. The ordinary details of life seen through clear glass, spectres of the old stained into that glass. A freshness bordering on the magical. The effect is that Is A Woman is steamy and transporting.

Err, Mark Nevers: "We put everything underwater, blurred it all together..."

And it is absolutely beautiful.

Not to mention all the casual swearing.

Must... only... use... nouns...

...and the comedy "with the road crew from Em!-brace".

(I have just convinced myself that this is the greatest album in the Wur-uld.)

The best lyrics on "Is a woman" are:

Our boy was out today, burning up his matches.

Saw him in the afternoon, sporting, a black eye.

There is a whole story contained in only two sentences! You get to think for yourself what happened.

No-one says 'fucken'' like Kurt Wagner. The way he sounds like he's really struggling with it, like he doesn't want to say it and is rather embarassed that he has to... It's a bit touching, in an odd kind of way.

"It's enough to make you gay, just enough to make you sick in each and every day" ia also a great lyric.

Is A Classic, it's so beautiful and quiet but so full. Those horns...

I didn't know he quit his job, whatever it was, but does that matter?

Horns? My mind's playing tricks on me - I could have sworn that this was awash with soulful brass stabs, but listening to it again I'm completely wrong. It must have been the buses driving past outside. It's still achingly beautiful, but obviously crying out for the full Acid Brass treatment.