Lincoln Durham
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Brian Sumner
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Brian Sumner
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Robyn Von Swank
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Robyn Von Swank
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Jay Trevino
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Jay Trevino
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Jay Trevino
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Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Jay Trevino
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Click HERE for 300dpi

Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Jay Trevino
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Click HERE for 300dpi

Lincoln Durham
Photograph credit: Jay Trevino
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Click HERE for 300dpi

quotes
"Durham unleashes unfiltered swampy blues in the same vein as The Reverend Peyton's Big Damn Band, singing with the rawness of Tom Waits and playing with the inventiveness of Jack White." - JamBase

"Standing at Satan's ramshackle kit, twixt two mics, and brandishing a Resonator six-string sawed in half by his slide, the tortured, one-man-one-mohawk dude in black howls to the heavens." - Raoul Hernandez, The Austin Chronicle

"He taps into the ghostly side of blues, where one repeated chord is enough to conjure up a world of sound" - Art Levy, KUTX

"This is the kind of record that Jack White wishes he could make, a record that is loose, unhinged by commercial limitations or stylistic allegiances. Durham demonstrates again and again that he's no one's man but his own" - PopMatters

“With the American political and social landscapes slipping more and more into madness, I feel like Durham might have just written the soundtrack for our lives” - Glide Magazine

“Thick electric blues, mixed with the picking of a self-made cigar box guitar, among other rustically stringed instruments, lend Durham’s blend of roadhouse rock and front porch folk a gnarly texture that isn’t easily brushed off once it’s forced upon you. When Durham’s popping strings and pounding beats, even a larger festival stage can feel entirely too tiny to hold him in.” - Paste Magazine

biography
Armed with old bastardized mid-century guitars, hand-me-down fiddles and banjos, home-made contraptions with just enough tension on a string to be considered an instrument and any random percussive item he can get his hands or feet on, Lincoln Durham is a Southern-Gothic Psycho-Blues Revival-Punk One-Man-Band with a heavy amped edge, preaching the gospel of some new kind of depraved music. With driving guttural beats backboning various growling stringed instruments Lincoln gives birth to a sound that transcends genres with his dark, poetic and raw writing style telling tales that E.A. Poe would have been proud of.

Lincoln’s musical odyssey began when his grandpa, Charlie, and dad, Ed, put a fiddle in his hands at age 4. He would grow into an accomplished fiddle player winning the Youth Fiddle Championship at age 10. Lincoln afterward followed the path so many musicians have, finding his vice in the seductive, siren-like callings of the electric guitar. Or, in Lincoln’s case, the acoustic slide guitar with gnarly pickups haphazardly screwed into it.

Lincoln’s true biography is in his live show. The passion in his sweat drenched, electrifyingly mesmerizing one-man-band show draws you in to feel every scar and drop of blood in his painfully intimate lyrics. It takes something beautifully “off” to get on stage with just hands and feet for a band, driven by a howling voice, and morbidly preach a music that harkens back to the old blues masters, Son House and Fred McDowell, infused with the edge and angst of Punk and darkened from the bad influences of Tom Waits and Nick Cave.

videos



gig posters

the shovel vs. the howling bones US
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