Uncle Lucius with special guest Sir Woman
Uncle Lucius
During the years following the band’s farewell tour in 2018, their audience continued to organically grow, highlighted by the placement of their song “Keep the Wolves Away” in an episode of Yellowstone and its subsequent RIAA gold and platinum certifications. After a few years on hiatus – with a fresh outlook and a deep well of new ideas – the band members began to shake off their collective rust and blueprint songs that mirrored their career and current status, hitting on themes of resolve and resilience. The band released their first album in 8 years Like It’s The Last One Left last December via Thirty Tigers / Boo Clap Records. Since their comeback the band has toured consistently around the world and recently the 2nd single from Like It’s The Last One Left, “All The Angelenos”, hit #5 on the Texas Radio Charts.
Sir Woman, Austin Music Award’s Best New Act of 2020, was primed to hit the road promoting its much-anticipated debut album Party City, when the world changed.
With fewer reasons to celebrate, soul-singer Kelsey Wilson (Wild Child, Glorietta) ditched the party vibe she planned for her maiden, solo debut in favor of a more aptly titled record for troubled times.
Bitch, a genre-bending, Motown-influenced five-song EP, is set for an Oct. 16 release under Wilson’s acid-trip inspired stage name on Austin’s Nine Mile Records.
Wilson’s backing band — drummer Amber Baker (Jon Batiste) and back-up singers Spice and Roy Jr. — were joined on the album by guitarist Nik Lee and multi- instrumentalist Dan Creamer (Shakey Graves, The Texas Gentlemen), and critically acclaimed country-pop artist Robert Ellis.
But make no mistake, the Wild Child co-founder has stepped into the spotlight alone with this collection of love songs she wrote for herself as the perpetual party of touring life started to spin out of control.
“This EP is me finding what makes me feel good and falling in love with myself. A mix of everything that makes my body move — pop, soul, gospel, funk, folk, and R&B. It feels so right to make a record that has my actual heart in it,” Wilson said. “These songs are the part of me that wants to help people fall in love with themselves through music. I can’t wait for everyone to hear it."
World Café’ declared “warmth, empathy and humor are the shining stars” of the EP’s first track, “Highroad,” which earned a slot on NPR’s “Heavy Rotation: 9 Songs Public Radio Can’t Stop Playing.”
Consider that evidence Wilson is “moving effortlessly into a brave new R&B infused, gospel-flecked world where her golden pipes ease you back into a fluffy pillow of serenity and bliss,” NPR critic Gini Moscorro proclaimed. In some ways, the EP’s title track, “Bitch,” set for an Oct. 1 release, took on new meaning after the world shut down.
When Wilson belts, “You’ve been a bitch, baby,” it’s as if a year at the crossroads of coronavirus crisis and national civil unrest is the unintended target of the soul singer’s angsty honesty.
“This EP is me finding what makes me feel good and falling in love with myself. A mix of everything that makes my body move — pop, soul, gospel, funk, folk, and R&B. It feels so right to make a record that has my actual heart in it,” Wilson said. “These songs are the part of me that wants to help people fall in love with themselves through music. I can’t wait for everyone to hear it.”
World Café’ declared “warmth, empathy and humor are the shining stars” of the EP’s first track, “Highroad,” which earned a slot on NPR’s “Heavy Rotation: 9 Songs Public Radio Can’t Stop Playing.”
Consider that evidence Wilson is “moving effortlessly into a brave new R&B infused, gospel-flecked world where her golden pipes ease you back into a fluffy pillow of serenity and bliss,” NPR critic Gini Moscorro proclaimed. In some ways, the EP’s title track, “Bitch,” set for an Oct. 1 release, took on new meaning after the world shut down.
When Wilson belts, “You’ve been a bitch, baby,” it’s as if a year at the crossroads of coronavirus crisis and national civil unrest is the unintended target of the soul singer’s angsty honesty.
