Lucero has a secret dug deep around the roots of their gritty punk-country remedies. In fact, though the group associates with many genres without claiming loyalty to one over another, there is a style that fits their sound aptly: roots music. Lucero are true American roots rock, they are the good ol’ boys from Don Mclean’s “American Pie” all grown up, but still drinkin’ whiskey and rye, singing “this’ll be the day that I die.” You can hear it in their hard driving 4/4 tempos and heaving horn lines. You can feel it in the somber repose of their dark and stormy choruses that evoke a cool feeling of having one foot forward headed into the night with a vow to honor the past. 1732 Overton Park is a strong collection of songs that masterfully displays the band’s connection with their roots by taking the best from its influences—not just sounds, but emotions alike. And, best of all, Overton Park presents fans with well-crafted songs that stay true to the band’s musical ideologies. Lucero’s new album conveys this message better than last call at your favorite corner pub.

In fact, fans of Lucero already know that listening to previous albums like Nobody’s Darlings are much like going to a bar and observing a jumble of ingredients come together in the form of a much needed drink. Two parts jersey punk, two parts Skynyrd, and a garnish of Springsteen: try that, and you’ll be tasting a bit of “Smoke,” the opening track of the album. “Smoke” starts out already running, like a montage of images—piano pounding steadily with slide guitar coloring the background. The verse buildings like a train catching steam, and plateaus in the chorus with subtle horn accompaniment.

“Darken My Door” and “Goodbye Again” are the album’s slower songs. Though both tracks ride on melancholy blues over piano and down-on-your-luck lyrics, they are distinct in and of themselves, and add stylistic variety to the rest of the tunes. Oh, and not to mention, they’re both just heartbreakingly well written rock ballads. In “Darken My Door,” sighing electric guitar and hopeful piano chords emulate a plea for torn-up love to be requited. “Goodbye Again,” which could be a sequel to the former ballad, attempts a “Desperado” feel with more forlorn solo piano and accompanied only in sad sweeping choruses by a commiserating horn section.

These horn arrangements, a distinct addition to Lucero’s sound, fit tactfully into their songs. In some tracks, they hint at a phantom ska presence from Lucero’s punk feel. In others, like “Sounds of the City” and “What Are You Willing to Lose,” their presence is pure Memphis heart and soul hounding like husky back up singers to compliment Ben Nichols’ whiskey-worn vocals. The brass in Overton Park, arranged by the legendary Jim Spake, who has worked on almost everything worthwhile coming out of Nashville, from Solomon Burke to Cat Power, are another explicit reminder of Lucero’s roots. They jab in and out of verses, building bridges between melody and harmony, and help boldface the ferocious edge that the boys in Lucero have been singing about all this time.

Even the title of the album—former address of the entire band, and one time dojo where Elvis and other Memphis locals practiced karate—is indicative of the album’s nature: an appreciation for the past, an homage to roots. So, if you’ve ever sang along to Don McClean, driven to the levy, or drank till you couldn’t help putting an arm around your best friend and singing about the good times in that slightly cliched manner, then you owe Lucero a toast to their new album, 1372 Overton Park.

[review by guest contributor Dan Bindschedler]

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