Tuck Son

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Tuck Son was born on the crest of a wave in a bay near one of the world’s largest phosphate deposits, Cigar City.

He can trace his bloodlines back to French-Canadian fur trappers and southern plantation owners, with a touch of Cherokee Indian somewhere along the way. This explains how he became such a connoisseur of tobacco, fine wines, and tomahawks.

Growing up in the bible belt, Tuck Son sweat profusely throughout his childhood. Some say it was the heat. Others will tell you, the humidity. But after a decade spent in the sub-tropics, he had lost more than some musky perspiration. Missing was his extroversion, innocence, and endless curiosity for subjects yet unexplained to him.

AND SO - In an attempt to reclaim some part of himself, if only vicariously through music, he began to sing…and strum…and pluck…and drum…and make annoying scratching noises. He recorded some of these experiments, recruiting his friends and neighbors (and girlfriend) to help him, because he doesn’t always know what he’s doing.


_—-___——____——-___——-____——___—-

Tuck Son is a vehicle’s worst nightmare. Tuck Son learned to read before he learned to breathe. (as in, fetal days.) Tuck Son’s mother is a dolphin, and his father is the moon.
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Popular tags: folk, indie, lo-fi, eclectic, weird  See more

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