He will serve his choruses to numbers on the Plains at the Festival d’été de Québec on July 8, and the full Bell Center awaits him on November 18. There’s no getting around the phenomenon: Luke Albert Combs is a superstar. King of “new country”, an unnatural creation born of the cross between southern rock à la Lynyrd Skynyrd and imitation Nashville happy to be happy with bars in very, very lost regions (think Delivery). Former bouncer fired singer, the red-haired bovine aligns his corned beef of proud non-graduate (theme of do this : interviews are bullshit), summarizing his conception of aging gracefully (Growing Upnot to be confused with Springsteen’s founding song) to pass Any Given Friday Night along with ribs and chicken wings. That’s what you think, only worse: nostalgia for the good old days of drinking (Better Back When), the rejection of the regrets of the aftermath (Tomorrow Me), middle finger self-satisfaction, and so on. Misery !
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