Lucero love to catch you by surprise, not with their volume—though they could blow the roof off a venue—but with a sudden ambush of memory and feeling. Over their 26-year history, the Memphis group have perfected the art of weaving Americana, punk, heartbreak, and glory into a soundtrack for life’s most private moments: the triumphs that go unmentioned, the unravelings you can’t forget.
Lucero’s songs tend to fall at either end of a poignant spectrum. At one end, you’ll find flashbacks of failures—late-night drives, bad decisions, and unspoken apologies—and at the other, you can be surprised by glimmers of grace—starry-eyed love, the freedom of the open road, and the peculiar poetry found at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Front man and guitarist Ben Nichols sings like he’s whispering a confession through the cracks in a church door. His raspy voice grapples with the gravity of his emotions, and his words cut deep without tipping into sentimentality.
Listening to Lucero grants you permission to inhabit a space where you can be wistful, feral, and incandescently alive all at once. The band have continually pushed forward a fiery emotional core while expanding and shifting their sound. The ragged, restless songs on their early albums, such as 2002’s Tennessee and 2003’s That Much Further West, fray at the edges like an old denim jacket and thrum like tires on an empty highway. By their seventh album, 2009’s 1372 Overton Park, Lucero had added horns and keys, mingling brassy swagger with southern-fried grit. On 2018’s Among the Ghosts, they turned inward, exploring grief and fatherhood with darker, moodier sounds. And on last year’s Should’ve Learned by Now, they return to their roots while bearing the weight of every mile they’ve traveled. The unguarded songs brim with the same raucous energy that first enchanted fans, but Lucero aren’t chasing nostalgia—they’re still willing to revel in the mess and search for beauty in the wreckage.
At these three shows, Lucero will do what they’ve always done best: turn a crowd into a communion. Their concerts aren’t just about the music; they’re about helping you feel seen in ways you didn’t realize you needed. They remind longtime fans why they’ve held on this long, and they invite new listeners along for the ride. Lucero give us an example of how to survive without letting our spark burn out.
Lucero Cory Branan opens. Sun 12/29, 8 PM, SPACE, 1245 Chicago, Evanston, all ages, sold out
Mon 12/30, 8 PM, SPACE, 1245 Chicago, Evanston, all ages, $45
Tue 12/31, 8 PM, SPACE, 1245 Chicago, Evanston, all ages, $55