The Romany Rye

"Fantastic first record from LA-based singer/songwriter Luke MacMaster. With real maturity and power of thought, this is a spritely folk album of quality and assurance. 4 out of 5 stars." -FAN THE FIRE MAGAZINE

"Chalk it up to the warm weather and cheap drugs or blame it on Buffalo Springfield, but L.A. grinds out its share of guitar-toting folkies. Recalling L.A.'s early folk days, former Colour guitarist and songwriter Luke MacMaster's Romany Rye has picked up what his Laurel canyon counterparts left behind and wandered down a dusty new path. This album is an eight-chapter narrative of despair, love and everything in between, and it's as compelling as old time religion. From the very first track, "Brother",- a cautionary tale of deceit-I almost gaurantee you'll find yourself humming along as an organ slowly bleeds into MacMaster's vocals. "Dear Holly" effuses even more Southern charm, treating us to country twang and perhaps even a washboard. MacMaster's deep-hearted poetry can mesmerize you after a few lines, as with the closing track, "Untitled (Love Song)," The song plays like a high-school ballad, reminding everyone about that one (or in some cases, two) who got away. I picture Highway 1, Looking Back Carefully rattling some dilapidated juke box while some poor souls peer into their drinks and ponder what their lives have become. Hell, I think I need a drink now." -LA RECORD

"MacMaster is a classic songwriter, at heart, writing songs that are rumblers, toned by the rainy days and a weepy, but hardly withered soul. "Dear Holly" is a beauty about a woman, maybe, but certainly about a man, whose "tears have turned to blood." He happens to be a man who's thinking about the hows and whys of his slow decline into an aged and bitter person cursing the heavens, or at the least, looking at them emptily and wishing for some kind of sign. There's "no harvest, no kingdom come," in this song and MacMaster sings, "If love is a language, I'll cut out my tongue," and early on referring to himself as "a ghost town with seven empty lakes." It's not a character who's contented, who's sitting pretty, just a character who's getting by, little-by-little, but finding the tiniest of bright spots stuck to the bottoms of his shoes. He peels them off the soles and tries to revive them, the process as heartbreaking and lovely as any out there." -DAYTROTTER

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