Jeffrey Luck Lucas creates music that is alternately slow, dark, cinematic, tragic, intensely lustful and lovely as well as heartbreaking. These are the songs that evoke visions of desert emptiness, country torch and border music.
One of the founding members of the seminal 1980's garage band The Morlocks (Epitaph, Voxx, Midnight, Listen Loudest) Jeffrey Luck Lucas is a classically trained and degreed cellist who has played on records in 2004 by Neurosis, Steve Von Til, Chuck Profit, Tom Heyman, Pat Ryan, High Water Rising, Barbara Manning to name a few.
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"Lucas recounts his woeful stories slowly and deliberately, blurring the line between nightmares and dreams. Past the roadside bars and whorehouses, down a featureless two-lane highway to oblivion: he isn't afraid; he feels nothing. This record must be taken on its own terms; it's unyielding, even bloody minded at times".
BBC 2/11/05. Read the whole lovely review at http://www.bbc.co.uk/music/folkcountry/reviews/
"Think along the lines of Richard Buckner, Will Oldham, Willard Grant Conspiracy, or Townes Van Zandt if he'd have been produced by Daniel Lanois. Dark, dreamy, cinematic epics that are genuinely intoxicating..."
David Morrison/Gilded Palace of Sin UK
"Just when I became convinced that Seattle still had the market cornered on gloomy, overcast music, Bay Area's Jeffrey Luck Lucas comes along with "Hell Then Divine" showing us that there is a low cloud hanging over San Francisco as well. And the result is one of the most gorgeous and lush country-noir records to debut since Jesse Sykes' "Reckless Burning."
"Jeffrey Luck Lucas is a dusty-voiced troubadour with degrees in cello and composition and a heart trapped in the borderlands of someone else's memory. His cowboy ballads are slow, sweet, and quiet, whistling through a world of endless horizons, blood-orange sunsets, dry throats, and unremitting loneliness. Too kind, weary, and sensible to struggle anymore, Lucas offers solace and sympathy to those who still try, treading a psychic road hardened by the boots of other sweet-voiced ramblers like Townes Van Zandt and Mickey Newbury".
Silke Tudor, SF Weekly
"The music itself was a seamless, elegant nearly abstract wash of countrified loveliness, and though his imagery speaks in a darkly romantic southwestern vocabulary of parched landscapes, rusty tin wall crosses and abandoned haciendas, I sometimes also found myself thinking of one of those rural towns of the American south with dirt roads and sugar white hilltop chapels--so peaceful as to be surreal."