featuring the very best of americana, alt.country and roots music
October 15, 2024
Scott Foley, purveyor of dust
Writing humorous songs isn't all fun and games. If a songwriter can't balance that whimsy with some degree of authenticity, it's just shtick. The best americana humorists like John Prine or Townes Van Zandt or Bob Dylan (Guy Clark, Jerry Jeff Walker, Todd Snider, Blaze Foley, David Dondero) can deliver a clever lyric or a funny story, then turn on a dime and break your heart. New Orleanian Chris Acker has been honing those chops since relocating from his Seattle home. His 2021 "Nick and Joe" is one of the most lovely songs you'll hear. On his Odd Ordinary & Otherwise, it rubs shoulders with songs about watching the clothes go 'round and sunbathing alongside a satellite dish.
Acker has released his fourth record on friend Nick Shoulders' Gar Hole label, a collection that delivers more of these frankensteined songs (Acker's term), assembling gathered lyrics and thoughts that juxtapose absurdity with sentiment. Famous Lunch is a primarily acoustic project that rides on the track linking folk, country and old blues, with Acker delivering his songs in an affable, nasal twang. His supporting band, branded the Growing Boys, twine their warm tones through and around one another, supported by the light-handed production of Acker and percussionist Sam Gelband.
Chris Acker's tunes linger on details, noting particulars either lovingly or as a goof. Yes, "Swimming In My Calvins" is actually about repurposing underwear for a dip, but the song also imagines bodies coming together, Quiet as putting in a bookmark / Softer than thinking about new socks. With its subtly intricate electric guitar figures, the Prine-esque "Stubborn Eyes" builds on parental expectations, suggesting the image: Now he eats Saltines watching tv / Peanut butter on his wedding ring. There's adoring romantic detail on "Eyelash", blending acoustic and electric guitars: There's an eyelash on her left cheek / Big long dog laying cross her legs. Acker's attention isn't precious or self-important, not as much poetic as it is writerly.
Chris Acker and his Growing Boys apply a simple and plainspoken accompaniment to Famous Lunch, playing off one another for a welcoming bed of 70s country-folk. "Bunn Machine" adds a bit of electric guitar to the otherwise acoustic blend, with Nikolai Shveitser's pedal steel setting the tone throughout. "Shit Surprise" shuffles along with Howe Pearson's piano and Gelband's drums, featuring group harmonies and the singer noting, I feel her like a pulse in the cut on my thumb. A soft folk-rock track, "Wouldn't Do For You (Buddy)" adds Shveitser's dobro, and "Cursive Proverbs" showcases a strolling piano: I was pumping gas in the August air / Smells like the underside of a fingernail.
Much of the appeal of Acker's album lies in the ease and looseness with which songs like "Don't You Know (Who I Think I Am)" ramble by in a barroom stream-of-consciousness. But none of Famous Lunch is lazy or throwaway. It might only be after closer listening that the quality of instrumental interplay is heard, or that the smarts behind Chris Acker's seemingly slacker country-folk becomes evident. On "Game 6 Of '86", he delivers one of the year's notable baseball songs, the story of Bill Buckner's fabled fielding error: Known not for his great success / Only for that ball he missed. The album closes with a spoken piece, "11/8/23" that ends with It's November 8th and like every other day / It's unlike any other one. Like Willi Carlisle or Willy Tea Taylor, there is beauty in the burl, and poetry in the plainspoken. It takes skill to sound as effortless as Chris Acker does on Famous Lunch.
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