Since hitchhiking to New Orleans for Mardi Gras a decade ago, Chris Acker has embedded himself in the city’s underground country scene, juggling gigs with shifts as a line cook. His fourth album, Famous Lunch, captures this dual existence, blending wry humor, tender introspection, and vivid storytelling. Acker, accompanied by the talented Growing Boys—Zach Thomas on bass, Nikolai Shveitser on pedal steel, Dave Hammer on guitar, Sam Gelband on drums, and Howe Pearson on piano—creates an album brimming with authenticity and charm.
The album explores life’s ordinariness with a sharp eye for detail and a knack for finding the extraordinary in the everyday. Tracks like “Shit Surprise” balance humor and heartache, as Acker reflects on love that hasn’t quite blossomed, while “Stubborn Eyes” delivers surreal imagery, such as “peanut butter on a wedding ring,” to paint the complexities of relationships. Shveitser’s pedal steel guitar weaves through these songs, grounding them in a warm, wistful glow.
Acker’s gift for storytelling shines brightest in tracks like “Game 6 of 86,” which recounts the infamous Bill Buckner error in the 1986 World Series. The song sympathetically examines how a career can be overshadowed by a single moment, transforming a sports anecdote into a universal meditation on failure and resilience. “Swimming in My Calvins,” inspired by a spontaneous dip in the Jourdan River, captures the carefree joy of youth, while “Bunn Machine” turns the mundane tale of a coffee maker into a rollicking, offbeat anthem.
The album’s second half leans into deeper introspection, particularly on tracks like “Eyelash,” where Acker advises against taking love for granted, and the poignant closer “11/8/23.” The latter feels like a diary entry set to music, detailing small, seemingly inconsequential moments while reminding us of their fleeting significance.
Acker has often been compared to John Prine, and Famous Lunch bolsters that claim. Like Prine, Acker uses humor and humanity to delve into life’s bittersweet corners. Whether he’s singing about lost love, personal growth, or the quirks of daily life, his lyrics feel deeply lived-in and relatable.
Famous Lunch is a country album for those who appreciate both wit and emotional depth. Acker’s ability to find beauty in the mundane and to mix laughter with longing makes this record a standout. For anyone who has ever felt caught between hope and resignation, this album serves as a reminder that both emotions are part of the human experience—and that even in life’s quieter moments, there is something worth celebrating. – Jason Felton