Sit at the bar with a Lucero fan and you’ll hear a lot about Ben Nichols, and rightly so. In the quiet war of big personalities under the alt-country big-tent, Nichols holds his own; as the Memphis band’s creative hub and lead singer, he’s more brash and less deliberately poetic than Tweedy, and he’s held closer to his punk rock roots than Ryan Adams. If any other big name comes close to Nichols, it’s Patterson Hood careening off the edge. Regardless, he plays in that league. But for a guy to garner such constant comparisons to The Boss, The Replacements, and all of the above – and to stick out from every other singer who mythologizes Darkness On The Edge of Town – he needs a band. Nichols’s crew pulls all sorts of weight, but their sound isn’t gussied up or overly technical or bursting with embellishments. Even more than Nichols’s grating growl, this is where the punk starts to show – the band just puts in work, shoulder-to-wheel, fast and loose, and the songs (and Nichols) benefit as a result. ...