I don’t know shit about Austin Lucas except that I love his newest album and I skipped seeing him in Portland a few weeks ago because my New York Yankees were winning the World Series that night, so I owe him some attention.
I got his album via emusic a month or so ago on the indirect recommendation of my Twitter friends who live in the southeast. All I know is that Austin is signed to my newly beloved Suburban Home Records and when I got this album, I thought: He…reminds…me…of…someone.
This person is Richard Buckner, who may be familiar to some of you. Richard Buckner makes admittedly beautiful music. That said, he is likely to lull one into a clinical depressive episode and/or a nap if you are not careful.
So when I heard Austin Lucas for the first time I felt like someone had given Richard Buckner speed, or slapped him with those paddles they use on hospital dramas (and presumably also in hospitals). Both are folky, quietly melodic and steeped in American tradition with distinctly Irish/Celtic vocal styles.
Buckner fans, meet Austin Lucas. Austin Lucas fans, check out some Buckner.