Chris Acker - Famous Lunch [CD]

Chris Acker’s latest collection of songs, Famous Lunch is, in his words, a “growing pains album.” When writing the record, Acker found himself hunting for a voice that wasn’t just an imitation of the one he’d been using on the last 30 songs he’d made. “At the same time, I worked hard to find a certain voice for myself over the previous 3 records and I didn’t want to abandon that.” Famous Lunch contains some of his best work yet (“Stubborn Eyes,” “Wouldn’t Do For You (Buddy),” “Eyelash”) and some raucous, bar-ready new joints (“Don’t You Know (Who I Think I Am),” “Cursive Proverbs”). Caught someplace in-between the cowboy laments of Jerry Reed and the tender-hearted annals of Gram Parsons, Acker puts his world on a clothesline and lets it dry out in the sun. Famous Lunch is full of confusion and fragility, but it’s also full of love not taken for granted and a profoundly familiar ache for domesticity and a clock turned backwards.
But, more than anything else, Famous Lunch finds Chris Acker at his most sentimental and grateful, as he sings about Bunn coffee machines, gas pumps smelling like “the underside of a fingernail” in August, “10-inching” bread, stealing country club lawn-mower motors, father-son fables, impatient buffet lines, and a broom that “hasn’t been used since the last time I used it.” Acker’s eye for detail remains, and his lexicon includes phrasings that spin out like a hypnotic wash cycle (“quiet as putting in a bookmark,” “these parentheses around our smiles,” “fall asleep in a crooked shape”). Seeing the world through his eyes, language remains something worth falling into—growing pains and all.