Kurt Wagner wants to disappear. Yet his music is so idiosyncratic that it can’t help but stand out. In a career filled with indelible moments Punching the Clown may be the most unique thing he’s ever recorded. An album with Andrew Broder on guitar, Justin Vernon of Bon Iver on banjo (plus castanets on one track) and a full choir on every track. An unadulterated recipe for disaster, in the hands of choir master Blake Morgan this music becomes memorably stunning. A soundtrack to a dream.
This reverie begins with a banjo. Vernon’s playing draws listeners in. Instead of the traditional clawhammer technique, his playing resembles that of a guitar player making it undeniably different, totally unexpected, and oddly fascinating. The choirs uses a style of singing dating back to the 1800s in Scotland, which became a root of American gospel and country when they reached Appalachia. This lined out singing occurred because so many immigrants couldn’t read. As a result, a clerk begins the verse before the chorus repeats the line. In the hands of producer Ryan Olson, Wagner’s vocals are framed to stunning effect, whether using the London Choir’s 12 voices or the six of the Eau Claire Sextet.
What creates the building block of each song are the voices of the choir. Vernon’s pinched banjo notes, add to both the strangeness and sentiment of ‘Just West of Nicolett’, a song where the mundane turns into magnificence thanks to the choral voices. Lines like “I seen two old people talking/ One was holding a plastic bag,” have a sense of precision as unexpected as the sound of the choral accompaniment.
Rather than creating a dichotomy, the fragility of Wagner’s voice, framed against these vocalists’ stunning tones, establishes a breath-taking interplay. Wagner claims he’s trying to disappear on Punching the Clown. His vocals acting as a reverse polarity to the choir on ‘Andrew Jackson Asshat’. Serving as an auxiliary to him, the London Choir reaches crescendos far beyond the pale of Wagner. While they are on opposite ends of the spectrum, together they form a unique bond.
Transforming ‘The Weaker Souls’ Wagner tells the story of a sick man. “Singing songs in his head/ He lay on his cot/ Watch the barren cracks form the ceiling/ Oh the drags of light/ were no comfort.” The counterpoint of the choir builds as Wagner seems to fade into the woodwork. Only Vernon’s banjo seems to keep him from fading away completely.
Set in 1929, ‘The New World Wave’ highlights the depression from a perspective of one of the unfortunate participants. “To Harry and Loretta/ A child was to be had/ They called him Easy Buckets/ My brother called him Dave.” Despite the times the story gives personality to a situation, while the choir tightly framed against the banjo provides more than a contrast giving root to hopes and dreams delayed.
‘Weakened’ lives, as do the rest of these songs, in a world where rather than focusing on the big picture, Wagner revels in minutiae, taking songs down to their roots, stripping things back, leaving it to the choir to fill the frame. Getting out of the way is a most interesting strategy for a singer and songwriter, but in the context of Lambchop in 2026 it makes sense.
As Kurt Wagner attempts to disappear, in some ways he becomes more visible. He recently told Merge Records, “Here it is. Pretend I’m dead because you’ll get more attention that way.” From ‘Just West of Nicollet’ to ‘No Chicago’ (where the choir announces canceled stops from a friend’s tour because of this associate’s stroke, along with the reaction from fans who discover Chicago wasn’t on the list of stops), behind the choir Lambchop is more visible and vibrant than ever. Although he may not even appear on his next album, Punching the Clown insures he is still a most precious commodity.