Speaking in half-truths
Austin Lucas is an anachronism, through and through. The American (and sometimes Czech resident) writes songs that seem to insist they were born on a back porch overlooking a wheat field as the sun recedes on a painfully-warm day, flecks of sweat springing off his guitar strings with every strum. A pitcher of lemonade would be adjacent.
Lucas has a lot in common with another rising roots/depression-era country artist, William Elliott Whitmore, but with one diametric difference: while both pen songs that reflect old-timey tropes, one sings like the bastard son of Tom Waits and a gravel crusher while the other croons like Sinatra’s country-bumpkin sibling. In fact, as previously mentioned on this site, Lucas’ voice is so overwhelming it tends to overshadow how gifted a guitarist and songwriter he really is.
The release of his latest long-player, Somebody Loves You, comes just a few months after he dropped the astounding At War With Freak Folk. That vinyl-only EP is a stark affair that seems to consciously play up Lucas’ aptitude as a guitarist, concentrating on one-take versions of six songs with zero accompaniment outside of his guitar and voice. His songs have always boasted some incredibly intricate guitar work and the fiery spirit that moves his fingers definitely seems to be informing the songs he presents once again.
From a musical standpoint Somebody Loves You don’t step too far outside the boundaries Lucas has set with his first two long-players and the collaborative LP he recorded with Chuck Ragan. Musically it consists of what some might call predictable country music instrumentation, most of which continues to be provided by Lucas and his father Bob (who has played numerous instruments and helped arrange songs on nearly all of Lucas’ solo releases). The template is set in the album’s first seconds, as Lucas immediately erupts into ten seconds of convoluted picking, followed by Bob’s banjo and some brooding electric slide guitar. The latter is the real backbone of the title track, reflecting a murky and conflicted lyric about the nature of love and how it can often seem unwarranted or misplaced.
As in all country music, love is the fallback lyrical theme. Lucas tells stories of emotions that are tortured and inexplicable yet somehow easily-relatable, be they the reluctant letting-go that ends so many relationships (”Go West”), the realization that one can’t make it through life on their own (”Shoulders”), or the genuine surprise that some maligned souls feel when someone offers their heart (”Somebody Loves You,” “Singing Man”). “Wash My Sins Away” and “Fountain of Youth” provide a little more lyrical hopefulness, but Lucas stays far away from the stereotypical banality and cheap puns and wordplay that plagues so much modern pop-country.
Those familiar with At War With Freak Folk will easily recognize more fleshed-out versions of two of those cuts. In revisiting the marvelous “Go West” and “She Did,” Lucas wisely avoids the temptation to add too much to the mix or significantly alter the skeleton of the song (mis-steps that hurt the studio version of the Ragan/Lucas composition “Hold My Bed;” that song was so stunning in its vocals-in-the-red, recorded-in-a-bathroom early version but the studio cut on Bristle Ridge felt too clean, too overworked in comparison). The heart and soul of the songs remains unmarred, some tasteful fiddle and the ever-present banjo of the elder Lucas serving to propel the tracks. The same goes for the sombre “Shoulders,” which die-hards will recognize from an earlier version released on Lucas’ myspace. Here it’s wisely translated into a duet with sister Chloe Manor on lady vocals, a plaintive bed of steel guitar offering a counter-point to the resigned yet hopeful chorus.
One of my favourite things about this album is that Lucas seems to be taking a more concise, tempo-focused view as a songwriter. A number of tracks from his previous album (”How Are You My Lover?,” “Breaker, Breaker,” and “Tall, Dark, and Handsome,” especially) seemed to crawl at a dirge-like pace, demanding a patience that at times is hard to grant. While I can appreciate the mood and tenor of those songs is serviced by an almost non-existent tempo, six minute songs that feature nothing but slow-moving acoustic guitar figures and vocals can come off as tedious at times. “Breaker, Breaker” and “Shipwrecked (Glass Bottom Boats)” are devastatingly-good numbers, but I’ve always felt that they might have even more weight if they meandered a little less. The songs on Somebody Loves You don’t rely on slowly-strummed, minute-long musical intros to convey that mood and I feel like they’re better off for it. Take for example “Farewell,” an absolute barn-burner of a tune with racing guitar and banjo that clocks in at less than two and a half minutes. The speedy tempo is something we haven’t seen since “Pigeon Father,” the third track on Lucas’ first album. For a man with a voice and fingers that are so obviously agile its kind of surprising he doesn’t wander into that territory more often.
I’ve made a lot out of Austin Lucas in the past, but perhaps the most important thing I can say is that he keeps exceeding my growing expectations time and time again. The dude just continues to get closer and closer to knocking the entire fucking world’s socks off. It’s downright inspiring.
Austin Lucas - Go West: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download Austin Lucas - Live I've Got: Play Now | Play in Popup | DownloadSomebody Loves You and other heartbreaking works of staggering genius can be bought from Suburban Home/Vinyl Collective (just search his name, fools) and iTunes.
Hi, this is lovely stuff, Richard Buckner immediately sprang to mind on first listen.