The soundtrack for first-time director Jason Reitman's satire of Big Tobacco spin plays like an amiable, city slicker sequel to O Brother, Where Art Thou?. Tex Williams' western swing standard "Smoke, Smoke, Smoke That Cigarette!" kicks things off with a mischievous grin, laying the groundwork for classics from Patsy Cline ("Three Cigarettes in an Ashtray"), Otis Redding ("Cigarettes and Coffee"), the Mills Brothers ("Smoke Rings"), and the Platters ("Smoke Gets in Your Eyes"). The thread is obvious, but the selections sound handpicked rather than researched solely on the basis of their subject matter. Composer Rolfe Kent, who brought such an excellent sense of place to 2004's Sideways, manages to echo the hipster swing of the Mancini-era '60s without sounding regressive, providing Thank You for Smoking with a cheerful brevity that keeps the spin more balanced than fair.
Exit-13 is a grind band from Pennsylvania. Exit-13 is a mainly- studio concoction, the brainchild of guitarist Steve O'Donnell and vocalist Bill Yurkiewicz (ex-Relapse Records owner ); for this recording, they enlisted the assistance of members of Brutal Truth (Danny Lilker and Rich Hoak) and former Pain Teens singer Bliss Blood. Released in 1996, this odd collection of songs is a tribute to the virtues of smokin' spliffs, mostly featuring "smoking songs" of the 1920s and '30s along with a couple of parody moments and a crazed semi-white-noise freakout track, "Loading Dock."
The Smoking Popes kick out a melodic yet grungy guitar grind, but the thing that sets them apart from the standard four-piece alternative hard rock outfit is not only their pop sense, it's how the lead vocalist uncannily recalls the quavering, self-absorbed tone of Morrissey. Combined with their gift for hooks, it makes for a sound that is familiar, yet surprisingly distinctive. Bonus points for clocking in under a half hour.
Lambchop hails from Nashville and claims to play a "refined, and redefined" style of country music, but the songs the band creates on its second album, How I Quit Smoking, have more in common with Brit crooners the Tindersticks than Chet Atkins and Billy Sherrill (whom the Lambchop members claim as heroes). Boasting 13 players on this album, Lambchop feels more like an art collective on a mission of enlightenment than a country band bent on AM airplay. Still, with subtlely threads of clarinet, sax, organ, and even a full string section integrated into the mix alongside a double-necked lap steel and an impressive lineup of vintage guitars, the music is so lush, lovely, and thoroughly hypnotic you can see their point. The country element lies buried in the subtle rhythms and melodies, surfacing in the quiet moan of the lap steel or the melancholic flutter of the strings. Spooky as often as it is soothing, Lambchop's music may not be the fireside countrypolitan of Atkins or Sherrill – I don't think either would put up with the babbling rhymes of "Smuckers," the sinister guitars that mark "The Militant," or the existential undercurrents of "The Scary Caroler".