Singer-Songwriter Luke Sweeney Playing His Impish New Album At 4-Star Theater on Aug. 29
Photo Credit: Ginger Fierstein
One of the lead singles on Luke Sweeney’s carnivalesque new album, “Novel Tea,” is the puckish, “Subsidize Our Rent,” a cheeky plea to support artists living in a world that is increasingly untenable for creative types.
It feels particularly prescient—not only has their vanishingly small social safety net evaporated even further by devastating federal funding cuts, but algorithmic heavy steaming services have marginalized outsider artists in favor of pop stars and nefarious AI outfits.
And although that track feels wholly of the moment, it was actually written more than five years ago—a sadly clairvoyant statement made by Sweeney that has only gained resonance in the past half-decade.
“I wrote most of these songs a long time ago, and when I went to record them a few years later, I don’t think I changed a single lyric,” said Sweeney, who will play a record release party on August 29 at the 4-Star Theater as part of Andrew St. James’ Fast Times showcase. “The experience of going back to listen to those songs was just really heightened by the current climate. I don’t want to say those songs were prophetic in any way, because I was writing from a real perspective at the time. But those conditions have just grown—I feel like we’re getting more and more crowded, while at the same time getting more and more isolated and lonely. It’s a struggle out there.”
Those are heavy themes for sure, but “Novel Tea” is anything but a bummer album—in fact it’s the exact opposite. Infused with sardonic humor, the record is an impish, picaresque journey, filled with coming-of-age stories, prankish tales and, yeah, the occasional social commentary.
Set against all these backdrops is Sweeney’s trademark penchant for sonic exploration. Each song is a blurry mix of offbeat instrumentation and whimsical arrangements, creating a Beach Boys-inflected atmosphere that imagines what kind of ingenuity Brian Wilson could conjure with a shoestring budget.
“A lot of guitarists will insist upon touching the guitar every day—doing the Jimi Hendrick thing of like sleeping with the instrument—and for a long time, I did that kind of thing,” said Sweeney. “But after a while, things change and you get restless with that singular focus. For this album, I was literally using child toy instruments for a lot of the demos, and Robin [MacMillian], who I worked with on this album, just rolled with it. There’s a lot of fantastic musicians out there who takes themselves very seriously, but I’m just not one of them anymore.”
Those Casio-heavy histrionics naturally imbue the album with levity, a mood Sweeney sought to create after the beautiful poignancy of his prior album, “Rishi,” which delved into the tragic death of his daughter.
“It wasn’t so much a response to “Rishi,” but it was more about going back to making a record of songs and stories that didn’t have a specific focus or dedication,” said Sweeney. “There are songs here about my life just like any other record, but the themes are obviously a lot less heavy than ‘Rishi.’”
Some of the songs on “Novel Tea” back 10 years, to when Sweeney was still living in San Francisco (he now resides in Nevada City.) Sweeney said there wasn’t a specific impetus to release the songs now, other than the desire to avoid these tracks collecting “digital dust.” He already has material written for four new albums, so he was eager to address some of his back catalog of songs.
That doesn’t mean that “Novel Tea” is a disjointed collection of odds and ends—there is an uncanny sense of coherence to the tracks, with many of the songs sweetly delving into youthful nostalgia. “Young Kids” is a buoyant synthpop treat, a breezy number filled with faux-strings and paeans to the beauty of fledgling love. “Burn’n Ambition” is a chugging power pop anthem, deftly capturing the wide-eyed wonder of being young, and
“Sum’r Nights,” is a gorgeous ballad reminiscent of the Kinks’ masterpiece, “Waterloo Sunset.”
Album standout “Probably Me” is a Calypso-inflected chamber pop piece, in which Sweeney humorously details the multiple versions of himself, and the aforementioned “Subsidize Our Rent” has him doing his best Randy Newman impression—all rollicking piano interjection and witty vocal deliveries. The central takeaway of that song “subsidize our rents/when shit gets hard,” is so simple it’s almost koan-like, serving as a reminder again that although many of Sweeney’s subjects—young love, maturation, discovering the world—feel timeless, others are despairingly still topical.
Whether it’s something as direct and literal as a plea for housing assistance or an idea as ephemeral as the fleeting, ineffable nature of adolescence, Sweeney understands that music is a universal language—a way of actualizing a feeling or emotion that is waiting to be discovered.
“There are things communicated in music that we’re already feeling, but we’re unable to process them until we hear that one song,” said Sweeney. “There’s a certain lyric or a melody or a beat, that just hits us in a certain way, right? All the songs on this album are very personal and I’m not trying to generalize anything. But I try to find that place where we can all feel something together. Even though this album was written year ago, I think the emotions I describe are something we’re all feeling now—maybe even more so than ever.”
Show Details:
Luke Sweeney with Mayya and Andrew St. James
Where: 4-Star Theater
When: 8 p.m., Friday, August 29
Tickets: $14, available here.