106 Lambchop: Flotus

Erm… I mean… Yeah, go for it…


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In the sometimes murky waters of the markedly less fabulous albums of 2016 in which we have been of late wading in, I have often complained that what it is that causes these records to split their foreheads open on the glass dome preventing them from gaining access to the land of the truly magnificent is that far too often they feel like they’re making compromises and blunting their edges in an attempt to ensure wider appeal, so it’s only right that I praise Lambchop (love that name +1) for making an album that spectacularly refuses to conform to expectations, and strives to please absolutely nobody, save the landlord at their recording studio, who is delighted that the recording of ‘Flotus’ (love that name +1) was much quieter than usual


That was a fucking mega sentence, wasn’t it?


Such lengthened grammatical structure is extremely apt, because I am a certified genius, as it references the fact that La-La have no issue with spending as long as eighteen minutes over a track, because they get paid to make music now, so fuck all of y’all, they’ll do what they freaking want


Radiohead would kill to have the balls to make a record as unyieldingly inaccessible as this…


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Experiential dirge seemingly for the hell of it? At least

8 Prince Points

However, the hour long slap across accessibility’s face with a wet fish of artistic inflexibility is far easier to admire than actually like


Much like my daughter’s husband Albert: I mean, I really appreciate how much money he’s made of by designing a cold-water filtering system which eliminates 2.7% of all office shredder waste, but sweet Jesus is he boring!! Yes, Albert, you told me last time how you saved 34p by buying your chalkboard and chalk at two separate retailers, I really think you should look into investing in a new anecdote, especially because most people you know would have heard it in your wedding speech. I sometimes wish she’d get back with Darren. Yeah, I know, he used to tie up her in the cellar and burn her with his crack pipe, and had that weird sexual fetish about Nazi prison guards that I kept insisting to him was not appropriate after dinner conversation, no matter whose Bar Mitzvah it was, but at least he was fun! And he did a hilarious impression of a Polish person trying to order seafood, which definitely wasn’t racist because he said he had a friend at work who was black


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I initially just planned to describe Darren’s enjoyment of crack pipe torture, but because of how the drug crack can conjure up unwarranted and unnecessary racial stereotypes , and the fact that I’m a Social Justice Snowflake Cluck, I decided to add the Max Mosley Third Reich fetish to muddy the assumptions a bit. Since you ask, Darren was actually white, not that it makes a difference. Funnily enough Albert is black, which makes his dullness all the more surprising, as you’d think he’d break out into a breakdance or a gangsta rap at some point

‘Flotus’ is a lovely album in theory, but in content…

well, there isn’t really any content. I listened closely last time it politely dribbled out of my speakers and this is the entire timeline of its 68 minutes:

03:31 Has it…? I think… Yeah, it’s started

15:56 The band accept that Mike isn’t going to turn up, and decide to see what the buttons on the keyboard do

26:02 The pianist clears his throat, the rest of the band stop playing as they await his announcement

27:23 No, he wasn’t requesting their attention, he just had a bit of a dry throat

34:21 In the background, you can hear the producer enquiring whether anyone wants any tea

34:23 H-ho! A bit of a beat!

34:25 Wait, no, it was just the lead singer nodding his head, you could hear his beard scratch against his chest

48:43 Do Lambchop have beards? I feel like they do, or at least should have. Well, if they didn’t have beards when this record started…

53:51 Yeah, I can definitely hear a lot of beards now

73:43 Nice!!

74:23 No, my mistake, I really liked the sound of that but it turns out it was just a boy outside throwing a plant pot at a squirrel

85:21 That squirrel isn’t moving…

92:45 Should I call RSPA or…?

104:34 Nah, it’s fine…

134:04 Oh! It’s picking up a bit now!!

165:32 No, wait…

184: 45 I think it’s finished


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I joke! I joke! Hey, Lambchop, you’re alright! There are some great songs on ‘Flotus’, Writer and Niv especially, and kudos for seeing nothing wrong with ending the album with a eighteen minutes of barely distinct synth that occasionally implores us to ‘do the Hustle’


Hang on… are they taking the piss…?



If they are, it’s a remarkably successful troll


Length 63 minutes

but… yeah, whatever…


Best Lyric: ‘Daddy made me fight, it wasn’t always right/But he said, “Girl, it’s your second amendment” +1

Is the last song just the first track but played on Ukelele? No -1

Total 55

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