dark folk / lo-fi / gauzy 
James Bracken cut his teeth as a sideman lending his soulful vibrato and rhythm playing to Ian Hilmer’s Stagefright, an alternative string band from southern MN. The band performed extensively regionally, steadily gaining grassroots momentum circulating live bootlegs but never releasing an album, which ultimately ended the band and each of the members went on to front their own project.  

Several hundred bar gigs later a fortuitous connection with Rochester producer Fires of Denmark led to a productive series of recording sessions documenting Bracken’s expansive catalog and tracking a brand new batch of songs set to be released as Echo Messenger.

From the Mountaintop (acoustic)

When You Wake In The Morning

A song about a long-distance relationship.

MAYBE SOMEDAY (c) JunkHeap Jan 26 2024

She loves him, he loves her.
Living far away from one another due to circumstance.
Occasions where they meet and their love blossoms.
The hardest time is being apart when you so want to see them.

She doesn't have the money, he's flat broke.
Travel seldom happens, but they won't flow apart.
So they speak through their phones;
work hard for the next time when they can hold each other, 
so, so close,
lost in the moment.

Their love it makes them work so much harder,
to live together and share their worlds.
Maybe someday, but not today.
 
The crescendo building 
near Iguazu Falls in Argentina,
that's where he wants to say the words to her.

She dreams of the quiet of an old growth forest in BC, 
let the trees share their wisdom, 
while they stare in each others eyes.
She's not going to lie, she melts when he looks deep.

Br.

Maybe someday.
Sippin’ hot chocolate on a train going to nowhere, 
holding hands...
Sleeping in on a rainy day, making sure not to plan anything, 
so difficult these days.
Their hearts feel, and they can dream.  
It'll happen where they can both meet, and be together,
be together, forever.
Maybe someday.

Their love it makes them work so much harder,
to live together and share their worlds.
Maybe someday, but not today.

uh, uh, uh ohh...

outro.

Maybe Someday

Der Abendstern (Composer: Robert Schumann, Lyricist: Hoffmann von Fallersleben)

The Answer my friend, is blowing' in the bed

fiberglass

Lay Lady Lay (Bob Dylan Cover )

One Day Soon

Pick Me Up On Your Way Down--Gene Jumper- ( cover song )

Annomally.

In a music industry hellbent on algorithmic trends and hollow flexes, Lux Coven shows up like a ghost with perfect aim. His new track “The Tool That Talks” sounds like a blues preacher from the underworld stumbled into a trap house with a harmonica and a war journal. And here’s the catch: the voice you’re hearing isn’t even his.

Lux Coven is a songwriter first, and a visionary next-gen performer who uses AI vocal synthesis to bring his haunting stories to life. Not as a gimmick — but as a delivery system for songs too heavy for mainstream throats to carry. And when he does drop a full solo album using his real voice? You’ll already know the name.

🔫 Southern Sermons in a Chambered Round
“The Tool That Talks” isn’t just a clever title — it’s a philosophy. The lyrics grip like a revolver passed down through bloodlines: dusty, lawful, poetic, and dangerous. Lux doesn’t glorify violence. He interrogates it. Guns, in his hands, become characters — prophets, betrayers, relics.

“Gun ain’t evil, son / It’s a mirror made of fire”

That line could’ve been scrawled in the margins of scripture. What we’re witnessing is a songwriter reclaiming symbolism — not through cheap metaphors, but through generational memory. It’s hip-hop as oral history, country as battle cry, blues as psychic residue.

🎛️ The New Age Outlaw Sound
Produced like an old vinyl found in a forgotten armory, the track unfolds in 432 Hz with ambient gun clicks, steel guitar moans, harmonica bleed, and whispered tape hiss. The AI voice — tuned to Lux’s specifications — croons and growls like a ghost of Delta blues past merged with future tech.

This isn’t autotune. It’s artificial resurrection. A hologram of pain, powered by human scars.

“They all strapped up / So I keep mine close—
Ain’t no mercy / When the steel gets chose.”

The hook feels like it’s been echoing across southern backroads since Reconstruction. But it’s brand new — because Lux is writing the past forward.

🧠 33:64 — The Clock That Doesn’t Exist
The album art is a Haitian-style oil painting of a lawless western town. But look closer — you’ll spot a digital clock frozen at 33:64. An impossible time.

For Lux Coven fans, this is standard procedure. Nothing is literal. Every number is a cipher. Every visual a sigil. Every song a riddle wrapped in trauma, faith, and divine revenge. That time stamp is not a glitch — it’s a test. Do you see what time it really is?

🩸 AI Ain’t the Artist — It’s the Bullet
Some artists use AI as a shortcut. Lux uses it as a weapon. It’s the bullet. He’s the gun. Every line is loaded. Every vocal manipulation is intentional. And when the time comes for the real voice to step forward, the message will already be felt in the bones.

This isn’t a tech stunt. It’s a spiritual tactic.

“The devil fears the man / who’s got one bullet left / and still chooses when to pull.”

That bridge alone cements Lux as one of the most dangerous pens in music today — with or without a mic in hand.

👁 FINAL VERDICT
“The Tool That Talks” is a declaration of artistic war — not just against genre limitations, but against the cultural amnesia plaguing modern music. It’s soul. It’s survival. It’s prophecy delivered through an AI shell — until the real voice arrives to finish what’s been started.

Lux Coven isn’t playing with machines. He’s training them to speak truth.

And the industry? They’re about to find out what it means when the tool starts talking back.

THE TOOL THAT TALKS

dont you see the fantasy ,
hidden in the mundane?
the colors on a black and white display? 
the rgb , in the lcd? 
technicolor ghosts all whispering to me
a fly above the screen
hanged for all to see

rip them out, wires in your mouth
youve been tapped by cords
and use them now against me
can you hear, the buzzing atmosphere 
that surrounds, 
the both of us right now

didnt you try,
to stop your eyes from winding?
the colors in your pupils turn to grey
the catacombs, 
the winter tombs
you want to go home
but my home is you
dont push me still away now
theyre coming back to haunt you, too 


now the hive minds 
are swarming up against you
are you writhing so deep
inside your grave?

winter tomb (ACOUSTIC DEMO)

runaway with me until we are both dead and rotting in the same coffin 6 feet under

dark-folk/gauzy/lo-fi/singer-songwriter

James Bracken found a fortuitous connection that led to a productive series of recording sessions documenting Bracken’s expansive catalog and tracking a brand new batch of songs released as Echo Messenger.    

Instagram 
https://www.instagram.com/echo.messenger


Local rag...
https://www.postbulletin.com/lifestyle/arts-and-entertainment/tuesday-tracklist-echo-messenger?fbclid=IwAR3oL-B7JWfeihD-ANDbGLom56QGouNqRRPEsU6e_YRWnXsvasrWEwVqYps

Live performance...
https://youtu.be/NuHSe3DGuYA?si=w7JLTgwH2OJXT_wk

Self produced album...
https://youtu.be/MpFcmCt57q4?si=JJhdjLRHkgVzn66E

From the Mountaintop (acoustic)

EchoMessenger