Jeffrey Luck Lucas's brand of folk is spooked and sorrowful, treading slowly forward but often looking back. On his new album, the Bay Area musician sings of heartbreak and loss through a thin layer of metaphor, his age-burnished voice buoyed by strings, piano, and tasteful brushstrokes of pedal steel. -Michael Harkin, San Francisco Bay Guardian

For this is music that catches you by surprise, that appears slowly out of the fog on an early autumn night carrying the smell of decaying leaves and turning dirt. It stops you in your tracks and makes you think much too deeply about mortality, other human frailties, your insecurities and really, why the hell are we all here. It leaves you too tired to sleep and too wired too think, in a bipolar haze. (read the whole review) -Dave Terpeny, KyndMusic/RightAction

The honeymoon ends quickly for the groom in "Know My Name," a country-noir tale of a shotgun wedding gone wrong off Jeffrey Luck Lucas' sophomore solo outing, What We Whisper. Besides remembering how "21 shot glasses fell," his memory of what transpired the night of the blessed event is a bit foggy, though he does recall seeing his bride "always looking over [her] shoulder." That should have been his first clue that the marriage was on the rocks...(read the whole review) -Peter Lindblad, Lost at Sea Magazine

Darkly gorgeous, unexpectedly uplifting, these nine slow-moving songs traverse desolate nighttime landscapes where conversations in road-houses and at neon-lit kitchen tables drift suddenly from trivialities to life-altering truth. The coffee turns cold, the cigarettes burn down, and all of the sudden someone you love is looking you in the eye, demanding, "Tell me why / your kindest words are just shy of lies." Jeffrey Luck Lucas, a SF-based songwriter who got his start with garage-Kinks The Morlocks before earning a masters in cello composition and performance, is not one to shy away from the confrontational in this, his second solo album. Still, his voice is so gentle and mournful, his arrangements so supple and glowing that you don't see the knife right away...or perhaps, if you're unlucky, at all... (read the whole review) -Jennifer Kelly, Dusted Magazine

The music on What We Whisper is deceptively hard to describe. Though they are rooted around “normal” instruments like guitar, bass and drums, the addition of various keys and cello add an atmospheric sound to the melodic music. What We Whisper manages to defy categorization without sounding odd.(read the whole review) -Graham Bailey, pucknation.com

Some darker moods for a change. Jeffrey Luck Lucas is whispering some heartbreaking words and wraps them into slow and dark melodies. It's haunting, almost devastating, but still somehow beautiful. Jeffrey's second album What We Whisper isn't the easiest album to approach, but can surely move your heart during some lonely night. (read the whole review)-One Chord to Another Finnish pop site

The founder of the Morlocks has returned with a quiet, tension-filled, gorgeous and eerie piece of work. Although dirge-ish in some respects, tracks such as “You Knew It Well” find Lucas resembling a cross between Tom Waits and Cowboy Junkies scoring a film noir soundtrack, while “Fall in Love Wrong” is a tad more soothing, but still quite dark and ominous a la Chris Isaak. The tone is consistent, but the style changes, especially on the somewhat up-tempo (by his standards), pretty and compelling “The Pills”, which could be covered nicely by the National. Meanwhile, Lucas branches out on the sultry Tex-Mex-meets-Parisian quasi-tango instrumental “Grifos Muertos” with surprisingly great results. Other nuggets here include the creepy, string-laced “In the Stars’ Whirling” and the country-oriented “Know My Name”. But a true gem is the whispery “Sometimes, Sometimes”, featuring Wendy Allen with her Emmylou-like harmony vocals.-Jason MacNeil, popmatters.com

Darkly ethereal, What We Whisper, the new release from Jeffrey Luck Lucas, paints an aural landscape littered with dashed dreams and bleak futures, populated with jaded protagonists who wear their world weariness like a favorite jacket — tattered memories they can't throw away no matter how much they'd like to. The pain of them is perversely comforting. "Tell me why you carry your tears like a melody," Lucas plaintively asks in "The Pills," knowing the answer is, in fact, the question...(read the whole review) -Ray Ellis, blogcritics.org

The disc feels more like the soundtrack for a film noir movie than anything; the only thing that I could easily compare it to would have to be the skillfully-crafted soundtrack for “Natural Born Killers”. (read the whole review)-James McQuiston, neufutur.com

There once was a time when a young man with a gravelly voice and a fistful of brilliantly-written tales of loss and despair could make a name for himself without having to be tagged and identified as part of the "new, free folk" or "new, weird America".

Let´s hope enough exceptions still exist (Marissa Nadler gives us hope), because on the merits of his first solo album, Jeffrey Luck Lucas deserves a following, and more than a medium-sized one at that. On Hell Then Devine, Lucas proves to be a country agonist with Daniel Lanois-like production and a Dylanesque literary imagination. It´s a great instument, that voice, world weary beyond its years.(Read the whole review)-Stephen Fruitman, sonomu.net

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. (Read the whole review) -Darren Overs Pearson, BBC

Is it always nighttime in the songs of Jeffrey Luck Lucas? Not really, but it almost feels that way, what with the dark moodiness of his arrangements and the introspection and angst that permeate so many of his lyrics. And not just any night, either, but the kind that's always thick with a funky bourbon haze, where sleeplessness incarcerates your vision and all intentions of decency are transformed into blurry, oil-slicked puddles you carelessly drive over or step straight into. Things happen on nights like this- fortunes are squandered, souls misplaced. You wake up on the other side, and all you can think to do is pray. (Read the whole article) -Kurt Wolff, San Francisco Bay Guardian

Interview with Italian label Awful Bliss.

"... But it was the night's very first act, Jeffrey Luck Lucas, who flooded the stage with such powerful feeling that listening to anything in its wake felt almost like treading water. Wedding swells of languid, meditative surf rock to mournful Western ballads, Lucas's music evokes a feeling of aching reverberation over an endless distance, full of nostalgic mirages and shimmering with loneliness. Rather than focusing on a tightly defined handful of notes, his sound builds on a series of ghostly, overspreading echoes, released by the silvery warble of baritone guitar, the warm resonance of acoustic bass, and a leisurely yet ominous thunder of percussion. While these float and fade in the air, coloring it with their vibrations, Lucas unfolds tales of desolate borderlands and lost love in a baritone that's rugged, but weary. Despite the undeniable darkness of his songs, their melancholy is never absolute. More wistful than bitter, they carry the same survivor's hopefulness as the title of Lucas's recent Antebellum release, Hell Then Divine, which suggests the kind of will to live that endures, even in the chilly aftermath of immolation, by drawing heat from the last embers. They are lullabies for the lonely, and refrains filled with regret; they might be the soundtrack for one last, slow dance with that person you can't live with, and can't live without. But their eerie grace is a comfort of its own, serving as a reminder that the darkest hour is always followed by the dawn." --Rebecca Johnson West Coast Performer Magazine, 2005 Mission Creek Music Festival live performance review

More stuff to plug: Jeffrey Luck Lucas sounds like the name of a serial killer who listens to theGun Club, and his CD Hell Then Divine does not disabuse us of that notion. Think Tom Waits or Mick Harvey... -Jason Cohen, Rolling Stone

"Jeffrey Luck Lucas' _Hell Then Divine_ is a down pouring of hot rain outside the Satellite casino in Reno. Lucas' smoky voice glides over the pedal steel and cello like well-worn cowboy boots. Eerily wistful, _Hell Then Divine_ is an urban/country casino renaissance classically composed by a modern day virtuoso. Take in "Cascade" with a martini chaser. Weep to "Old Mexico" and insert any story of heartache to the instrumental "On the Llano." Lucas' near whisper is a gentle nudge to the regret in us all. Vocals by Liana Allday, Wendy Allen, Allison Alstrom and Janis Tanaka compliment the painful solitude in Lucas' visceral, but subdued, voice." --Angel Baker Mesh Magazine

"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'." (Read the whole review) -Salvador Santos www.threeimaginarygirls.com

"Jeffrey Luck Lucas is the downcast balladeer in A Touch of Evil's lost cantina scene-an honorable stoic bearing witness to border town badness even as his own demons hatch. Between attempts to drink himself blind, Lucas manages to find solace in the stately, carefully crafted songs of Hell Then Divine- an obsidian mix of traditional and alt-country, plus echoes of the Mexican folk music with which he was raised. Every tune is bathed in the steep shadow of romantic sorrow, and although there's a slight over reliance on genre cues like sad senoritas, Lucas' running themes of rain, spilled water, and unnatural thirst are great metaphors for the raw emotional material of the album. From "Shine": "This downtown of no town rides / The highway rails then divides / Cast aside, the lightning slides / Then it lines us up in its bright strides." Notice how tiny the "us" seems here? The bad-luck storms in these songs are much bigger than the people, and in their midst Lucas remains deathly parched for a small sip of peace. Lucas' voice has an appealingly weathered quality, and it stands out nicely against a big night sky of instrumentation provided by friends and fellow troubadours. Chris Mulhauser's (Aphrodesia) electric guitar is soulfully rippled, and engineer Desmond Shea (Tarnation, Court and Spark, Dieselhed) brings in everything from an Optigan to a dulcimer. Lucas' cello and violin arrangements deserve special praise as a particularly beautiful presence in the music. Warm and sometimes even ascendant, theyÕre the lantern we need to see our way clear of such cavernous regret, and they show unexpected but deep sympathy for Adam Anderson's lap steel. Standout tracks include the courtly and fateful "Sway to the Roll"; the sensual "Devil on Me" with its minimalist backup vocals by Janice Tanaka (L7, Pink); and the radio-friendly "Midnight, Texas," which has archetypal appeal and deserves to be heard widely." -West Coast Performer Magazine

"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

"A dreamlike debut from the former cellist and later bassist of the Morlocks, on this, he sounds nothing less than the man who you wish you weren't talking to in the bar but are. You drink, thinking you have it bad, then this guy opens up. You have less reason to cry in your beer, but more reason for hope. It is not so much the sound that is muddy and weary, but the voice. Lucas sings as if he hovering over the bathtub, debating whether or not to dive under. Yet it is not depressing; somber, haunting tunes like "Old Mexico", "Midnight Texas" and "Sway to the Roll" reveal the real deal: a singer and amateur wise man that country music used to have in abundance, before pop hacks and condescending "insurgent" rock bands took it over. There is defiance in the midst of his slurring, and love in the middle of hatred. As the title of the record suggests, he singer knows enough of the dark side, and is ready for some light. Jeffrey Luck Lucas is, in the words of George Jones, ragged but right." -Mike Wood musicemissions.com

"JEFFREY LUCK LUCAS track: anything off of Hell Then Divine. This guy sounds like West Texas, like CALEXICO gone David Lynch. From San Francisco, this guy has a rich, aged voice that isnÕt fad or hip, just genuine and real. Needs: Legal, label deal." -L.L. Futuresounds

"We've been waiting a while for this debut record from local boy Jeffrey Luck Lucas. An ironic name for the guy, as Lucas' songs are not those of luck or good fortune or smiling faces or bright sunny days. No, Lucas is a musical man after our own hearts, spinning morose, minor key tales of misery and loneliness, heartache and pain. Monochromatic musical snapshots of dingy hotel rooms, run down bars, boarded up stores, empty bus stations, blood in the sink, empty bottles by the bed. The dark swampy folk of Sixteen Horsepower, the lonely drunken storytelling of Tom Waits, but with a more distinctly classic country sound. Simply strummed acoustic guitars, mournful strings, sweetly singing lap steel and an arsenal of odd instruments that help give the record its haunting quality: water glasses, bowed cymbals, bowed guitar, vibraphone, optigon, function generator, guitarra quinta, toy piano, bamboo dulcimer, and more. All underscoring Lucas' raspy drawl, soaked in booze and dried out on the side of a lonely highway, warm and rough and beautifully weary. Guest vocalists include Wendy Allen from the Court And Spark and Janis Tanaka, formerly of Hammers Of Misfortune!" -Aquarius Records

Johnny Dowd and the Handsome Family come to mind when Jeffrey Luck Lucas first speaks his mind on "Cascade", the opener on Hell Then Divine - and one of eleven tales of (to name but three) devils (hear the aptly titled, slow burn of "The Devil On Me"), the West ("Midnight, Texas") and whiskey shots 'til dawn. When a man starts a tune talking about having his "Star-spangled boots on" ("Old Mexico"), it's not difficult to conjure up a few nostalgic images of dusty roads and tumbleweed farms out West. And Hell Then Divine is just that - nostalgia of the Calexico-type, like the perfect David Lynch soundtrack that's still looking for its big screen companion. The images that surround Hell Then Divine tell a story on their own, playing right into the tales Lucas conveys. The cover depicts a woman casually daydreaming as 2 men, one likely her lover - the other the husband, confront one another. Dice, neon playing cards (Ace's be all of them) and a martini with 2 olives are also to be found here - all in black and white, just as timeless as these eleven anthems Jeffrey Luck Lucas has penned. For a man credited with playing so many instruments, including water glasses and a function generator, Lucas did find room for a wealth of other talent (although the cello is all JLL). Joined here by around a dozen other skilled individuals, engineer Desmond Shea is also credited with hands on multiple instruments. As classy as the package it is delivered in, Hell Then Divine plays out just like us folk from the East think out West actually is - filled with endless nights of gambling, drinking and novel-like romance of the debauchery classification. Bless the West. *Extra Credit: Hear JLL's equally stunning take of Oldham's "Agnes, Queen of Sorrow" on Tract Records I Am A Cold Rock, I Am Dull Grass, a Tribute to Will Oldham. I have a feeling this guys gonna be in more places than you know in no time. Mark my words. -Kaleb, Slightly Confusing to a Stranger

"A blur of cheap whiskey and late, sleepless nights thickens the haze of despair and self-doubt embedded in the music of Jeffrey Luck Lucas. His scratchy voice stews and simmers underneath thick, slow-crawling arrangements, the whole experience coming off like a murky hallucination bubbling from some urban swamp-puddle at your feet. Dark and intense." -Editor's Review C|Net Music

"Country noir that simultaneously evokes memories of Twin Peaks, Johnny Cash, and Tom Waits. Whiskey-toned and drooping, like a drenched wooly poncho hanging off a rugged, cigar smokin' cowboy to wistful ballads that shuffle along with a nod to Townes Van Zandt to perfect collisions of atmospheric swirl and growly, disillusioned, sagging hope and memories left behind like roadkill. Lush expanses and desolate emptiness have never had so much to talk about." -CD Baby

"Old-school Nashville played as dark and slow as molasses. Ostensibly mellow but the tension builds and creeps in like a cheating husband in the middle of the night. The songs are laced with elements of traditional country and the eerie vibes you might feel after waking up from a weird dream; tied together with Tom Waits-raised-in-Texas vocals. These songs would be perfect for any David Lynch soundtrack and I fully expect them to be used as such." -Thomas Heath/Tract Records

"It's a different story with Jeffrey Luck Lucas. In fact, his artistic restraint made for a sweet and unexpected sort of tension of its own. I found myself wondering if he and the musicians who accompanied him could manage to remain so gentle--so deliberate and reverent for the duration of the set. Halfway through, my mom leaned over to whisper a one word review in my ear: "sexy," and I saw what she meant. Before they reached us, it was clear that Lucas' thoughts had to pass through a filter of masculine restraint of an increasingly rare type. The understated result was as well crafted as his palomino boots and burnished by a dignified weariness, as if he'd come to the stage straight from some long, back road sojourn. 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. All this is to say that Lucas' songs were graceful, studied and seriously pretty. They made me want to slow dance with my boyfriend in some shadowy corner of the Utah." - www.playinginfog.com

Shimmering deserts, Hades vistas. I've consistently played this CD when evening has passed into early morning and the glasses are half empty, when tobacco smoke glows in low lamplight, when all is blurry and indulgent. A debauched divinity shines through this recording: nothing sounds harsh or forced. The easy villany makes it ripe for replaying--Lucas is a troubadour for Baudelaire's visionary excess and this album is a dark triumph. Highly recommended. -Reviewer: Benjamin, CD Baby

"...I saw Jeffrey Luck Lucas's band Galveston in SF twice this year and was blown away. Other than the "small town moniker" connection to Calexico I'd say the best way to describe them is a band that would fit in perfectly as the bar band in Twin Peaks. Very moody atmospheric country drawl." - Casa de Calexico Discussion List

"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". - SF Weekly

"...[Lucas] welcomes us into the romantic melancholy world of the outsider... recites like a drunken poet. Luck's distinctive voice considers each syllable, stretching vowels and tapping consonants.... he might linger forever, and so could we... expands the imagination and makes every note ring true... [the music] is like the memory of a dream - a dream that is all the more real in the sloppy whiskey-summoned cloud that cradles many a crestfallen heart ." - www.performermag.com

"Lowdown on his luck. The key to understanding Jeffrey Luck Lucas is right in the middle of his name. Sometimes luck is hard-earned, like the classical cello skills Lucas will contribute to the next Neurosis album. Sometimes it's dumb, as in the reputation his mid-'80s, '60s-inspired garage band, the Morlocks, earned by disappearing after recording a few obscure gems. And sometimes luck is hard, as is the stripe Lucas displays in the ghostly, country threnodies he lays down on his forthcoming solo CD, Hell then Divine." - East Bay Express