Album Notes

Lucas Dawson was born and raised in Western Australia. He decided to learn to play guitar at the age of 15 but was bullied into buying a bass at the insistence of a guitar-playing friend who convinced him that there were already too many guitarists in the world and suggested that the two of them could put a band together if he learned to play bass.

Going nowhere in particular, Lucas played around Perth in various garage band combinations, even playing in a jazz poetry ensemble a short while, and spent a great deal of time and effort writing short stories that would never be published and manuscripts for films that would never be made. He got his heart broken at the age of 20 in a spectacular case of naiveté and misunderstanding, and fled to Europe shortly thereafter where he spent several months wandering aimlessly. Frequently approaching indigence but unwilling to return to Australia he eked his way around the continent, eating little, working short stints in restaurant kitchens, taking advantage of the kindness of strangers, failing hopelessly and repeatedly in all matters romantic.

London, dodgy bars and dingy nightclubs, occasional beatings on dark street corners, bad hair, bad skin. Lucas eventually ended up running a cinema in Camden Town. During his four years in England he played very little music, and became more and more disenchanted with the whole damn thing.

Following the call of a promising romance, and enchanted by the wild notion that he might be ready to write a novel, Lucas moved to Stockholm. The transition to a new country took its predictable toll. Engulfed by a foreign language, a small fish in a big new pond again, Lucas succumbed to self-pity. The novel was abandoned half-way through. New dingy bars and nightclubs were explored repeatedly. The once-promising romance hit unforeseen bad trouble and began a slow, inevitable self-implosion. Nobody's fault, or everybody's fault, or just one of those things. Ugly times.

Lucas had begun playing bass again shortly after arriving in Sweden, and had even begun singing – if extremely tentatively at first. He played in several outfits – ranging from noisy electro rock to straight pop to dinner jazz – for varying lengths of time, sometimes just standing in on bass on short tours or for single gigs. Several demos, and a full-length record (with instrumental agent-rockers Kalamare Beat Club), were released. Nothing happened. Lucas waited tables and swept floors. Disenchantment began to set in again.

Amidst the wreckage of a now utterly ruined relationship, Lucas found burning inspiration. He would write and record a brutally honest break-up album, but quickly. No more waiting around for all of the usual endless rehearsal and slowboat demo-recording and begging for gigs and waiting for record contracts that never come. Just throw a band together and do it. Right Now. While the tears are still hot.