Lambert | Dolph

“Dolph? It’s Marsha. From Epic.”

At fifty-two, he was broke, divorced, and living in a converted garage behind a strip mall in Bakersfield. The only thing he owned outright was a 1974 Fender Telecaster with a cracked pickguard and a neck worn smooth by three decades of bad decisions. dolph lambert

“Exactly,” he said. “Let’s keep it that way.” “Dolph

“Tom,” Dolph said, tasting the name. “That’s a good name for a song.” The only thing he owned outright was a

Dolph Lambert had been a name on the margins for twenty years. A session guitarist who could play anything but sold nothing under his own name, a songwriter whose best lines ended up in other people’s hit songs, a man with a voice like honeyed gravel who had never once sung lead on a record that mattered.