CHICAGO SUN TIMES said:   “…Densely layered tales of longing and loss, beauty and simple pleasures.”

In Jeffrey Foucault’s Own Words
“I grew up in Wisconsin, and my Dad wore a tie to work and played a knock-off Gibson with a chunk of the headstock missing where he’d backed over it with the car. Mom sang along. I knew all my Grandparents well into my thirties, and I knew both my Great Grandmas. Winter Sundays were for church or ice-fishing, and summers we hauled an old travel trailer up to the north woods. School was a drag, and I drew a lot of pictures. When I was eleven I bought a cassette copy of Little Richard’s Greatest Hits. At seventeen I learned to play all the songs on John Prine’s 1971 debut in my room with the door locked and subway posters of British New Wave bands looking morbidly on. At nineteen I stole a copy of Townes Van Zandt’s ‘Live & Obscure,’ and listened to it every night for a couple years. Then a girl from Iowa gave me a Greg Brown cassette. At twenty-four I made a record and start traveling around the country. I have two older brothers. They don’t sing but they both fish.”