Jeffrey Foucault grew up in a small town in Wisconsin. His father played a plywood guitar and his mother liked to sing. Winter Sundays were for church or ice fishing, which are not so different when you think about it. He went to college and dropped out, took a job on a fruit farm and started writing songs about a girl from Iowa. He finished school, roofed houses, drove a snowplow, and home-schooled the son of the local bar owner in exchange for beer. He cut his first album in the winter of 2000.
Cinematic in scope and movement, Horse Latitudes, the stunning new album from Jeffrey Foucault begins at the reckoning, confronting the end of nature and the end of youth in a series of vivid dreams, unfolding characters and lovers lost or forgotten against dark fragments of modern time.
Combining the wide-open electricity of Neil Young with the brooding spaciousness of early Richard Buckner, Horse Latitudes shows Foucault in the fullness of his powers as a writer and producer, offering a compelling vision of modern American music.