Chicago, IL
The Bottom Lounge-10/24/09
By Anthony Kuzminski
{Photo Credits}
Every night across the globe, there are a dozens of humans whose love for music is so severe, they go out and cut a little piece from their soul in the hopes that someone can take something away from it. Ben Nichols, lead singer and guitarist for Lucero, is one of these people. He inherently feels the need to reveal his inner soul on a concert stage. Hailing from Memphis, Tennessee Lucero is a merry group of misfits who based upon their looks, found each other at a truck stop after being abandoned by their families. Combining efforts to be a band of brothers with a musical mission they have spent the better part of the last decade performing upwards of two-hundred shows per year. As I watched them inside the Bottom Lounge in Chicago in support of their major label debut, I could see the talent pour off the stage. This is a band who is more than great musicians, but a force to be reckoned with. All too often I watch talented band implode because of a lack of vision and a lack of drive. Lucero is a band who understands the importance of a live concert. They hit the stage, give their all for over two-hours and when the lights go on at the end of the evening, you are left breathless at the sheer power with which they deliver their music. In a day and age where most acts perform between an hour and ninety-minutes, it was refreshing to lay witness to a band who hit the stage in the hopes of overpowering you.Pulling from their entire catalog (eight albums in all), the twenty-eight song set list took the crowd through peaks and valley featuring deafening highs to subtle sides allowing everyone to revel in the punctual punch the songs leave. Lucero’s sound, while rooted in rock n’ roll is near impossible to describe. They are a mash-up of E Street soul punk rock, alternative guitar chords, garage rock attitude and a big band execution that proves to be an intoxicating elixir that stirs the soul. Opening with “Sounds of the City” they assaulted the Chicago crowd with tales of down on their luck souls seeking answers that may never come. Early in the set, "The Devil and Maggie Chascarillo" found the veins in Ben Nichols neck bursting on a rave-up version of the song. "What Else Would You Have Me Be?" sent shivers through the crowd from the interlocking guitars and its arms-to-the-air anthemic quality. "Nights Like These" was vexing while "What Else Would You Have Me Be?" provided an intoxicating of retrograde rock with an extra jolt provided by the stacks of horns. "Joining the Army" features some nice slide guitar work that defines desolation better than any dictionary ever could. “Can’t Feel A Thing” found the horn section blowing the roof off the joint while the tranquility of "Goodbye Again" allowed the crowd a breather to prep themselves for the next onslaught.
"Hey Darlin', Do You Gamble?" may have been the evenings tour de force moment. A slow building hymn filled with lyrics that are pure noir providing a vivid picture which was only complimented by the concentration the six-piece band brought to the performance. The passion flowed over into “The Last Pale Light In The West” (a Ben Nichols solo song) that stung the crowd with merely an evocative vocal and an eerie atmosphere created by some fine slide guitar work and an understated piano. As the full band returned to the stage, the band drove home a resilient set of songs that the crowd hopped on for to take them away. “Smoke” plays like a long lost Springsteen classic with its telescoping piano. "I Can Get Us Out of Here" welcomed back the horns on a song where the crowd was taken to that next level. “Darken My Door”, “Sweet Little Thing” and “Tears Don’t Matter Much” finished the main set with an imposing slap of electric guitar chords. Never a band to leave anyone wanting more, Lucero returned for a three song encore before closing out with “All Sewn Up” from their self-titled debut record leaving the crowd fatigued from the evening’s musical ambush. Lucero must be given credit for playing a club like it was an arena. Their pacing was impeccable and nothing seemed farfetched. Far too many acts I meet these days understand the notion of never leave a crowd wanting more. I remember seeing Arcade Fire a few years back and as enthralling as their eighty-minute set was, it left me wanting more. They had the chance to instill their music into me for an eternity, but it left me feeling a tad cheated. Lucero left me with the opposite feeling. It’s one of the most invigorating shows on the road at this moment and provides the biggest bang for your buck. They tear through the show like a great soul revue powered by a gripping ten-piece band. Finding middle ground between a big bands and four-chord punk rock, Lucero is a band that will leave a profound impression on you if you’re blessed to see them live.
Amidst all of the bristling guitar chords and horns, the lyrics, delivered with believability by Nichols were a highlight for me, especially on “Mom”, the closing track on the band’s latest record, 1372 Overton Park. The solemn spine chilling lyrics, complimented by an accordion painting a picture worthy of cinema, as is much of the new record. Nichols gruff voice is an authentic and sincere one. You close your eyes and the music, lyrics and delivery transport you to a new world. It stirs up emotions and like the greatest of art, make one ponder life. Finding middle ground between the E Street Band and Social Distortion, Lucero delivers a two-hour plus show nightly where the band tears through nearly thirty songs, through a melding of influences, proving they are a force to be reckoned with. Their drive to imprint a definitive memory is astounding. Every once in a while you encounter a group whose love of the rock n’ roll art form is so pure and engrossing you can’t help but fall in love with them; Lucero is one of those bands.Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network and his daily writings can be read at The Screen Door and can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com.
