 by Rob van Alstyne
Lucero are a workingman’s rock band. Plenty of groups pay lip service to the ideal of life as a touring musician, but few are actually willing to embrace the harsh reality of playing on a Wednesday night in Idaho (one of many not-so-glamorous gigs currently slated on Lucero’s upcoming eight week long tour). Playing 200 shows a year, self-releasing records, re-injecting much needed passion into rough and tumble rock—Lucero takes on all tasks the same way —full tilt.
Download an mp3 of Lucero’s song “Sixteen.”
 Lucero’s
latest platter of passion in action, Nobody’s Darling, doesn’t
stray greatly from the template laid out by the Memphis, Tennessee band’s
previous three albums—the songs are still built around guitarist/vocalist
Ben Nichols’ cigarette stained growl, the punchy symbiotic interplay between
Nichols and fellow guitarist/founding member Brian Venable, and a shit kickin’
rhythm section ideally suited for tunes about drinking, losing and leaving.
The differences lie more in what isn’t there—this collection of
songs is stripped to the bone, devoid of the atmospheric overdubs that colored
much of the band’s previous record, That Much Further West. It’s
straight ahead rock of the highest order, probably at its best while speeding
down a highway on the back of a Harley Davidson, periodically stopping to guzzle
beer and chain smoke cigarettes (unfortunately I’m a non-smoking van driver,
so this is really just a hunch).
“I wanted to make a more rock ’n’ roll record than we had
made in the past,” explains Nichols via telephone of his new fighting
lean album. “With records in the past I was consciously trying to avoid
being pegged as any certain genre, but with this I just didn’t care anymore.
[Our producer] Jim Dickinson was really into that idea [of a pure rock album],
so his job became making sure we stuck true to that ideal. This is the first
record we’ve made where there were no guest musicians at all. A lot of
times in the past friends would come in and play a guitar solo or a keyboard
part. This album has hardly any overdubs at all. We pretty much recorded it
live. We would do four or five takes of a song and then use the best one—sometimes
that even ended up being the first take. It was hard for me keeping it that
raw, I still haven’t really come to terms with it. It was important for
Jim and us to make this record very true to what we sound like live though,
and we managed to do that.”
There have been countless bands in the 14 years since the Replacements hung
it up who have garnered comparisons to the Twin Cities beloved heroes, but the
bottom line is that no current band has actually done a better job of living
up to the comparison than Lucero. Which probably has a lot to do with why Dickinson
(who produced the ‘Mats beloved 1987 record Pleased to Meet Me)
was willing to work with them. There’s an undeniable Westerbergian quality
to Nichols’ beautiful wreck of a voice and Venable’s guitar lines
bob and weave with a ferocity that can’t help but conjure thoughts of
Bob Stinson in Twin Cities listener’s heads. Like all good music, however,
Lucero is best appreciated on its own terms—this isn’t some faux
‘Mats tribute act—these boys are the real deal.
“We’re not an experimental band, and I didn’t start this band
to break any new ground,” admits Nichols when I ask whether the comparisons
to his forebears bother him. “I just wanted to be in a decent rock ’n’
roll band, regardless of whether some people might find that slightly derivative.
I think it’s cool when you see how it’s all connected. Last night
I was driving around and I listened to Bruce Springsteen and then Chuck Berry
right afterwards. I realized [Springsteen] was basing whole songs around old
Chuck tunes. It’s interesting seeing how different influences affect different
musicians, to see how they steal things and make them their own and the unique
parts they add that make it worthwhile. It’s something to appreciate.
I think there’s good music and there’s bad music, originality has
nothing to do with it. If you can hear the heart and soul that went into it
then it doesn’t really matter what it’s based on or influenced by,
if there’s enough sincerity to it, it’s still good.”
Sincerity is Lucero’s calling card, and Nichols clearly boasts an all
consuming empathy for his cock-eyed and doomed characters, whether they be despondent
motorcycle mama’s (“The Bikerdiers”), reluctant WWII GIs (“The
War”), or men destined to lose at the game of love (take your pick of
any number of tracks). Lucero’s the kind of band that inspires a devoted
following, and although they’re likely too rough around the edges to legitimately
contend for mass appeal, the band isn’t going to make the mistake of worrying
about it.
 “We’re
getting older,” admits Nichols when I ask him what his hopes are for the
public reception to Nobody’s Darling. “I’m 30 and I
have realistic aims. Bruce Springsteen was like 20 or something when he got
signed—I don’t even want to think about it —that’s just
not our reality. For me the goal right now is to think more in terms of establishing
a decently run small business that can support four band members and hopefully
two crewmembers eventually. That involves being on the road—a lot—but
if you can sell a certain amount of records, get a certain amount of people
coming out to the shows, you can make that happen. We’re getting close,
we’re not there yet, but if things go our way maybe we can each make as
much money as a public schoolteacher one day. That would be amazing.”
Lucero perform on Mon. May 30 at the Triple Rock Social Club with The Honorary
Title, Cory Branan. 9 p.m. 21+. $8. 629 Cedar Ave. S., Mpls. 612-333-7399. They
play an in-store earlier that night at 6 p.m. at Aardvark Records (924 Lowry
Ave. NE, Mpls.).
Find out more about Lucero on their official website,
LuceroMusic.com.
Head
on over to our mp3 page to download hundreds songs, including Lucero’s
song “Sixteen.”
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