My first glimpse of Austin Lucas was as a memorable guest on the Revival Tour. When a minor player stands out among the trinity of Chuck Ragan, Ben Nichol and Tim Barry, you know he’s something special.
The indie circuit’s peppered with lots of hip young bucks flirting with the twang. But if you generally dig that hybridized sound, as I do, the purity of this Midwesterner’s voice will put you in a spell. It’s one of the most pristine exemplars of country music’s honeyed heartbreak in ages. Making it cut even deeper are echoes of bluegrass and gospel. Lucas’ expression twists with a suffering and divinity seldom seen beyond the pew. He accomplishes this nice little trick by tapping the deep emotional well of country music without stooping to cheap bathos, a trap that claims not only the stylistic tourists but virtually the entire sitting Nashville establishment as well. The result is the powerful intersection of pain, beauty and authenticity.
Austin Lucas, descendant of a family from Indiana to whom making bluegrass and folk music comes as natural as breathing, escapes his environment by throwing himself on punk and hardcore music. Participation in a row of obscure bands leads him to the Czech republic in the end. He performs solo and plays in the Orc-core group Guided Cradle. To everyone’s surprise he arrives at the family’s gate with the announcement that he wants to record a cd. The furniture of the living room is pushed aside and exchanged for a tangle of amplifiers, boxes, microphones and miles of cables. Father Bob is a complete band by himself and sets himself behind the mixing table. playing banjo, violin, ukelele, guitar and sings in the background. His sister Chloe Manor sings a few duets with Austin and quadruped Flicka growls and rhythmically scratches the itching spots on her body. Surely the lyrics Austin wrote for the eight songs do itch as well. The carefully cultivated crust of our society is blown to smithers with the stroke of a sledge hammer. Like an americana punk variation on Kafka alienation and general collapse of modern mankind are put into strong lyrics, and all of this in a voice that tears open the earth. Between the opening chorus My breath is a hammer/ My insides are taxed like an anvil/ My heartbeat’s a tremor/ And I have not love but for nicotine and the closing verse I was cursing the flaws of my ignorance and youth a textual and musical zenith in light music unfolds in our still so young century.
-koos gijsman, heaven magazine
Hey, Im posting new videos today! and if you are in Texas, come on out to Six Flags (san Antonio) Friday TONITE where I'll be performing with Drake Bell (of Nickelodeon's Josh and Drake) and Saturday with Drake in Six Flags Dallas. Sunday I will be at Jo's on Congress in Austin! Hope to see some of yall out this weekend! And TUESDAY July 14, the band will be filming a performance for the tv show at SAXON PUB! Be in the audience for the tv show 4:30 to 6!!!!!!!! Ruby Jane
I love this kind of music. Your songs and voice stand right up there if not better then old crow medicine show. Check out my tunes on my page if u wanna.
