A VEGETARIAN...A VOCIFEROUS PACIFIST...
Raised by crickets in a haunted mansion, Lukas heard his first LP turning ferociously under a bloody needle at the age of three: the Dad-Blamed Dimes’ “Archives of Wicked Fortuneâ€. Barely an adolescent, his voice disappeared at night during a harsh summer rainstorm while he slept in his attic bedroom. He waged youthful battles against demons and angels with the strings of guitars and pianos as he cut his way into the savage streets of Earth in search of his voice. Jumping out of roadside bushes as he hitchhiked across the planets, his voice dragged him into a ravine where clothes were torn and mojos were exercised. Filthy and grinning, Lukas and his voice climbed out of the abyss as one creature. Lukas laughed and roared and cried as he made his way back to the mansion of his birth. From the unhinged front door, he constructed a guitar which he strung with silvery spider webs and painted with the ebony shadows of crows. With the rest of the house Lukas fashioned a boat which he sails in the sky from city to city in search of his true love.
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