As Lukas Nelson prepares to release his deeply personal solo debut American Romance, the acclaimed singer-songwriter steps into a new chapter of artistry, independence, and introspection. In this exclusive interview, Nelson reflects on growing up on the road, the butterflies that still accompany his performances, and the stories that shaped his new album. With collaborators like Shooter Jennings and Sista Strings by his side, and a fresh partnership with Sony Music Nashville, American Romance marks not just a musical milestone—but a heartfelt exploration of identity, love, and the ever-changing landscape of home.
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First off, congratulations on the upcoming release of American Romance. How does it feel to be stepping into this new chapter as a solo artist?
Lukas: You know, it’s frightening in a way because I’ve had success to a degree with this last iteration of who I was and so, trying to do something new is always a little—you know, there’s little butterflies, but I actually believe that the butterflies are good.
I was just talking about this with a friend, they asked me if I ever get nervous on stage and all that and I said yes, but I actually like the butterflies. It means you care, it means you’re into it. You can take that energy and channel it into the performance. If you don’t have those butterflies, it’s almost like… then you get worried. So yeah, I care, so I get a little nervous.
This is your first release with Sony Music Nashville. What drew you to this partnership and how has it shaped the process?
Lukas: Oh man, when I had the meeting with Sony Nashville, the whole company was in the meeting and the feeling in the air was that they were really coming into their own. It felt like perfect timing for our partnership and everybody was really engaged. I’m grateful for that partnership—I’ve never had a major label partner like that.
You’ve described this album as a love story to the country that raised you. Can you tell us more about what that means to you?
Lukas: Yeah. I grew up traveling the roads of the country. I spent as much time on Thanksgiving night in truck stops as I did at home surrounded by family. I didn’t have much of that home feeling—I was always on the road. I feel like I grew up in every state. Every state raised me. Even up in Canada, yeah. America—North America—it’s very large. I’ve never been to South America, but it’s technically America, so this album covers the entire Americas.
So obviously you grew up on the road—the heartbreak, the beauty, the joy of it all. Was there a moment or experience that sparked the idea for this collection?
Lukas: I wrote a song called American Romance, which is on the album, and it sparked this idea—like the great American novel—writing about my experiences and how I relate to my country at a time when it’s very confusing for people to understand where they fit. Do I relate to the politics? The land? The people? For me, it came down to: devoid of the media narratives, what is this country to me when I meet people day to day? That’s what I wanted to capture.
What was it like working with Shooter Jennings as a producer and how did his vision align with yours?
Lukas: Shooter and I grew up very similarly and loved the same types of music. It was relaxing to be in the studio with him. We both love not just country, but rock, avant-garde, everything from Aphex Twin to Coltrane to Bowie to Sabrina Carpenter to Lana Del Rey. We really connected on that, and I think we have more to do together in the future.
Pretty Much is a tender and honest track. What inspired that song, and what did you want listeners to feel when they heard it?
Lukas: Rinpoche, a Tibetan monk, says if you’re going to think about anything, contemplate the hour of your death. Pretty Much is deceptively simple—it’s about that moment of letting go. Do you want to be surrounded by family, holding the hand of someone you love? It’s a vision of what I want. That ideal romance—someone who stays with you until the end, your grandkids asking how you first met.
Let’s talk about the track Montana and the Sista Strings contribution. What role did strings play in shaping the mood of that song?
Lukas: They’re such a beautiful duo. When they came into the studio, I was awestruck. They learned the song quickly—it was just so fun. It was really cool seeing them bring it to life. That song reminds me of a time—it has a very cinematic feel.
Were there any tracks on this album that maybe surprised you?
Lukas: God Ain’t Done really did. That first track, when the chorus and violins come in—it set the tone for the whole rest of the album. We recorded it first, and it got us really excited.
What can fans expect from your live shows this summer? Will you bring a different energy now that you’re touring solo?
Lukas: I still have a band with me, but there’ll be moments where I’m acoustic, moments where we rock. There’ll be more dynamics. I want to make people feel like they’re on a journey—a cinematic experience.
You’ve collaborated with such amazing artists. When you’re collaborating, how do you balance your voice with someone else’s creative vision?
Lukas: Music is a language. If someone speaks it in one dialect, I can understand and complement that with mine. It’s really about being present, letting creativity take control. It’s like painting—understanding how the colors blend.
Is there a dream collaboration on your list?
Lukas: Oh yeah—Sabrina Carpenter. Lana Del Rey and I are friends—we’ve sung together. I also love Arctic Monkeys. I just covered one of their songs acoustically.
With American Romance marking a new era for you, where do you see your music heading next?
Lukas: The great frontier. I don’t know. I’m open to anything—whatever the music dictates. It’s taken me where I need to go so far, and I trust it.
If you could give advice to your younger self before you even started creating music or considering this lifestyle, what would you say?
Lukas: Don’t get trapped in believing you have to emulate every aspect of your heroes. I thought I had to adopt their habits—my dad smoked weed, so I did. I loved Hendrix, so I tried to act like Hendrix. But I’m not them. I don’t need weed or pain to be creative. At 11, I already felt deeply on my own. If I had just channeled all that into the music from the beginning… I think people who last longer figure that out. And I want to last. I don’t want to burn out at 27.