buy cialis Three weeks ago I pushed play with sweaty palms on the stream of Lady Lamb’s sophomore release. After is songwriter-guitarist-banjoist-extraordinaire Aly Spaltro’s latest project. While the album is fresh, try Spaltro has been nursing and marinating several tracks found on it for years. At age 25, Spaltro has been writing actively since her humble beginnings working to discover her sound through the twilight hours in her hometown in Maine.
A year late to the party, Ripley Pine, quickly became my most played album of 2014. The record was dreamlike and delicate, yet raw and real all the same. Having grown from gigging solo to recording and touring on this new album with a full band, After promised a new era. I ended my listening of After unsure, pondered, and hit replay.
It took a few more listens, but I became enamored. Lady Lamb’s sound is surely evolving. She’s one of those artists who I will see every single chance I get. She’s got a wide open road ahead of her and while she’s always been screaming, her voice is bigger and fuller now than ever. After is plump and now that I’ve fully digested, won’t stop begging me to sing along. We caught up with Lady Lamb before the release show to talk about her lyricism and After, but then we scurried to the Sinclair to snag a decent spot.
3 Tracks Off of After That Fucking Killed Live:
“Spat Out Spit”
Spaltro takes you into a journal page recounting a comedic encounter with herself looking at the strangeness of human beings and sweeps you into her fantasies. It’s a trip in and out of consciousness. Spaltro is facing fears in her own humanity and offering up her piece, “I could be cracked open like a cartoon watermelon, then you would see the solar system suspended in me. It’s the same one in you that pulses and spins. We’re just made of flecks of the heavens.”
“Violet Clementine”
Never have I ever screamed about yellow yarn so loudly.
“Sunday Shoes”
This song, presented to you by a solo Spaltro center-stage, will mesmerize you. It could be 20 minutes long and I would listen to every verse. Spaltro recounts that this was the first song she ever wrote that was purely fiction. As a gem she’s been holding onto for years, it feels so good to hold it on this crisp new record. The time was right.
Missing: “Dear Arkansas Daughter”
Honorable Mention: “Penny Licks” was an unexpectedly perfect set closer with the anthemic singing of, “We will crane our necks,” into its dizzying climax.
