Jeffrey Foucault at City Vineyard - 4/26
at City Winery New York City
- 9:45pm (Estimated End Time)
ABOUT VOICES ON THE HUDSON
This winter, City Vineyard (233 West St in Hudson River Park) will transform into a cozy, intimate music venue where acclaimed national touring artists will perform against the gorgeous background of the Hudson River and the downtown NYC skyline. These special shows will be limited to 100 guests who will also be able to enjoy the new winter bistro menu and a full bar before, during and after the show. SEE THE FULL LINEUP HERE
ABOUT THE ARTIST
“Contemporary and timeless.”
– The New York Times
“As a performer, Jeffrey Foucault has that enviable mix of great, unexpected songs and a warm and rugged stage presence that makes you feel alive and in awe all at once…’Salt as Wolves’ [is] his most satisfying record to date…it’s the record of a craftsman at the height of his powers.”– No Depression
“Pure songwriter… his songs are simple and powerful.” – NPR
I first saw Foucault play in a little Missoula theatre years ago, when many of us who grew up spinning our elders’ albums—Townes and Dylan, John Prine and Greg Brown—wandered around dolorously wondering when the next real songwriter would come along. Stetson sweaty, that little vagabond spark in his eye, he spun out a long Beam-fueled set and when it was over I walked out into the warm rain and thought, Damn. So that’s where he’s been. Since then Foucault has given American poetry some of its most vital lines and his musical searchings have become touchstones of density and durability. On this new record—his most poignant, honest, even scathing—his cry is a belt of pure blue Wisconsin lake ice with a back of December sunlight angling through bare limbed birches. Not so much penned as lived, these songs—about a show played perfectly to an empty bar, the real ones who die with nothing half the time— offer listeners that rare artistic combination of a voice and a world. And while there’s nothing not lonely about these songs, you can’t hear them and feel remotely alone. Here is our hurricane lamp, the heart whose flame won’t go out, whatever the wind. Hold it close.
-Chris Dombrowski (from the liner notes to SALT AS WOLVES)
A show played perfectly to an empty bar. A singer with life and death on his shoulders, swinging a microphone like Samson swung a jawbone. The real ones who die with nothing half the time. With SALT AS WOLVES, Jeffrey Foucault gives us in sound and image what poet and author Chris Dombrowski calls in the album’s liner notes, “that rare artistic combination of a voice and a world”: a tough, spare collection of darkly rendered blues and ballads, like a field recording of a place that never existed. In a series of letters to lovers, friends, heroes, and family, Foucault deftly weaves together disparate strands of sound and experience, raw love, and hard wisdom.