Comprising a sequence of sequined tops stretched over a tall plastic cylinder, Boob Tube (2003) forms a surprising totem pole. Enshrining these sparkling elasticated garments as an iconic object, this playful and arresting work revels in chromatic and textural luxury; with its hints of glitzy self-adornment, the composition creates a gleeful, scintillating spectacle that resonates with the musical influences of disco, glam, funk and psychedelia that pervade the oeuvre of Glasgow-born Lambie. As Alex Farquharson has written, ‘Many of Lambie’s sculptures involve materials associated with the rituals of getting ready to go out, suggesting, perhaps, the split, during teenage years, between how one wants to be seen and how one feels: dressing-table mirrors, safety-pins, non-safety razors, leather gloves, leather jackets, brightly coloured belts, shell suits. Some of these items are associated with particular pop eras that have passed, especially the 1970s and 1980s, when Lambie was growing up. Many of them exhibit a certain pathos, operating like the ersatz residue of the excitement and anguish of adolescence’ (A. Farquharson, ‘Drastic Plastic,’ Frieze, 68, June- August 2002). If there is something wryly preposterous about Boob Tube – its title highlights the absurdly literal columnar form of the sculpture versus the reality of clothing a body – it is also an irresistibly compelling vision. Lambie’s parallel loves of art and music conjure a display of sparkling pleasure, imbued with the joy of rhythm and rich depths of nostalgic feeling.