Not only did I get to see Lucero for the first time in fourteen years, I got to see my buddy Thom for the first time in just as long. And few bands are as perfect for a reunion than Lucero. And few venues were as perfect for it as Portland’s Aladdin Theater, which offered a side room bar which we utilized for catching up and a whole bunch of Buffalo Trace.
Now, I was mildly bummed out that there was only one opener, as bands I haven’t heard before can either be shit, or, in the case of tonight, absolutely fucking golden. Enter The Vandoliers, a Texas-based punk-country septet that has all the “let’s fucking party” of Flogging Molly with the God Bless Texas-ness of Willie Nelson. Armed with an electric fiddle, a trumpet, and a boundless energy that made my knees hurt looking at it, their set was a relentless, boots-stomping joyride through ballads and mosh-worthy jams.
Cigarettes in the Rain was the former, and Bless Your Drunken Heart made the crowd go absolutely bonkers.
The fiddle player, Travis Curry, deserves special mention for wielding his instrument like a battle axe, sawing through solos that could ignite a square dance just as easily as a mosh pit. Their chemistry felt like you’d stumbled into a Texas dive bar where every night is Saturday night. The Vandoliers made it impossible not to move, and by the end of their set, the crowd had been converted, with the merch line packed post-set.
Then came Lucero, stepping onto the stage like old friends ready to catch up over bourbon and unspoken memories. Ben Nichols’ gravelly vocals—equal parts whiskey and a life well-lived—paired with the band’s gritty arrangements, are just so, so good.
Songs like For The Lonely Ones & Mine Tonight show just how poignant good songwriting and solid musicianship can be. Each song in their set unraveling shared memories and heartbreaks.
Nichols charmed the crowd with wry stories between songs, adding a conversational intimacy that only amplified the reunion vibe I had going on. Each track unlocked a memory, whether it was of a road trip or the time I may or may not have gotten into a bar fight.
By the time the last notes faded, the Aladdin was thick with the kind of contented nostalgia you only get after a truly great night of hanging out with great people.
The Vandoliers fired you up; Lucero reminded you why. Together, they proved the power of music to bridge the gap between the wild now and the bittersweet then. If these bands are ever on the same bill again, buy a ticket.