A classic troubadour from the Canadian Prairies, Zachary Lucky’s autumn tour covers the UK, Belgium and Holland. Raised in Saskatoon in Saskatchewan, he shares this native town with the likes of Deep Dark Woods, Kacy and Clayton, as well as Joni Mitchell, so there must be music in the air there, although only Ms Mitchell has a city street named in her honour so far.
Lucky’s latest album, “The Wind” (his 6th), has been well received and toured widely across Canada and the less-than-obvious hub of americana that is Japan. The likes of Guy Clark and Townes Van Zandt come to mind (and both are name-checked in a Lucky song where they are listened to on the radio), though one doubts they had their voices described in media reviews as “a bucolic weathervane.” He is quite a tunesmith as the set – solo acoustic throughout – demonstrates, with a clutch of ear-catching songs and his laconic, laid back but well-crafted vocal delivery keeps the audience engaged. Sometimes billed as The Laureate of Lonesome, that last word gives a hint of the theme of some of the material. He comes over as a mild, understated character in his stage banter.
‘Everywhere A Man Can Be’ is a stirring song from the eponymous 2016 album, including a litany of Canadian place names visited by the itinerant musician, which he plays to note that today is Canadian Thanksgiving. It has some shared sonic territory with Gordon Lightfoot, another name-checked influence. ‘Good At Gettin’ Gone’ is similarly themed and reiterates the hardscrabble life of touring musicians; long journeys, absence from one’s close people, a modest fluctuating income and “gas station coffee“. The travels do, however, provide plenty of source material and experience. He closes the first set with ‘I Wish I Was A Mole In The Ground’, a traditional yet quirky folk song unearthed in the middle of the last century by maverick Appalachian song hunter and musician Bascombe Lamar Lunsford, and it clicks along at a jauntier tempo.
Early in the second set, he alludes to current USA-Canada relations, which he finds unsettling, and this leads into ‘Revelation Blues’, about the end of the world “because the fires they are burning and there’s flooding in the streets…. the end times are coming, I’ve got those revelation blues “. Next comes one of the highlights, ‘Ramblin’ Kind’, with its simple but rollicking hook that could have slotted in on a peak Bob Seger set. And similar influences imbue ‘Wild Rose’, which follows. Its melancholic but stirring vocal and plaintive guitar telling of the man “100 miles as the crow flies … three months from my home.”
‘Sunday Morning At The Drag Strip’ is a nostalgic tale of how he gave the cold shoulder to his mum’s exhortations to attend church in favour of watching car racing with his dad. He clearly misses this era, which the lyrics reveal was his version of “walking in the Holy Land”. Later, he offers up ‘Rex’s Blues’, a Townes Van Zandt cover which underscores that his own highlights are of comparable quality. Set closer ‘ Sometimes I Wonder How I Got This Far’ can speak both to the physical geography of the thousands of miles travelled, or more introspectively to the state of life he has attained.
The encore is a cover of Fred Eaglesmith’s ‘Water In The Fuel’, another Canadian artist, and a glorious song to wrap up with, again capturing that middle American small town/rural lifestyle, either side of the now-topical border. No doubt we’ve all felt this at many small yet impressive gigs – but Lucky is deserving of greater recognition.
