After five years of relative quiet, multi-instrumentalist and leader of the engrossing post-rock act Storming the Beaches with Logos in Hand Luke Bern Carr is poised to reclaim his spot in Santa Fe’s music scene. What commenced as a straightforward anniversary re-release of previous material has turned into something more sophisticated—a complete rethinking of how he shares his creative work.
“I’ve been dipping my toe back into promoting my music by re-releasing an album,” Carr explains.
That album is Have Had, a deeply personal work that was lost in the pandemic chaos of 2020 (hear it at lukeberncarr.bandcamp.com).
“I worked on that album for about five years,” he continues. “My dad passed away right before it came out, and I had all these plans for it, and it just...didn’t do anything.”
The result was an album that effectively disappeared.
“I still run into people who are like, ‘Oh, I’ve never heard that. You released a record?’” Carr notes.
Rather than see this as a setback, he’s reframing the re-release as an opportunity to explore more authentic promotional approaches.
“Promoting music, whether it’s your own or somebody else’s, is a whole job on its own,” he says.
Courtesy Carlo Brady
The re-release also serves as an overture to his more ambitious plans. After a decade away, Carr is reviving his conceptually rich Storming the Beaches with Logos in Hand project with a reimagined attitude.
“I never intended it to become a band,” he tells SFR. “That’s just what happened.”
Thus, Storming the Beaches has lain dormant despite a highly successful run. All the same, Carr notes, he subscribes to an organic view of artistic evolution.
“I’m a firm believer that if you let something go and it keeps coming back, then there’s juice there,” he says. “I’ve let it come back over the past year, and I’ve written a lot.”
Carr has completely flipped his approach to making art since those earlier times. Gone are his days of disappearing to create in isolation.
“I used to feel that kind of artist cliché,” he admits. “It’s like, I’m going to hide for a while, I’m going to make something, then I’m going to come out and show it.”
Instead, he’s embracing what he calls “demo culture” stemming from his love of hearing bands’ rough cuts.
“You know, back when you heard demos of bands? Those are always my favorites,” Carr says.
He sees this as a response to social media’s unrelenting pressure for polished perfection.
“I’m much more interested in opening up my process and sharing that with people,” he says; whereas previously, songwriting was a solo effort. “It’s always been like I’m going to sit and wait—it’s like I’m downloading information. A lot of it feels subconscious, a lot of it’s been through dreams.”
His new plans include collaborations on both the musical elements as well as the content, which is a radical shift from his earlier pursuits. This philosophy will also manifest through a thoughtfully conceived Patreon platform based on participation. The timing works well with his production company, Bernlore, which he started in 2019. The business balances client work with original content creation, letting Carr incorporate multimedia elements into the Storming the Beaches world.
Social media remains part of his strategy, but Carr is aware of its limitations.
“I do use social media. Instagram for the most part, but it’s not really somewhere that I feel comfortable opening up too much,” he says.
Patreon offers him a more intimate alternative for partnerships. Meanwhile, musically, Carr describes his current work as more connected.
“I feel like the gray areas and complexities of life are clearer to me,” he says.
This also shows up in the music, which he characterizes as possessing “more minimalism, more clarity, hopefully.”
The new Storming the Beaches material expands the project’s scope. While earlier albums explored what Carr calls “Southwick,” or the southern territories of the fictional country that serves as a backdrop to his ongoing lyrical narrative, this new branch heads northeast.
“It’s heavily inspired by the Battle of Glorieta and up to Pueblo, which is known as the Pittsburgh of the West,” Carr explains.
Santa Fe is always central to his growing mythology, however.
“Santa Fe is the hub of all these stories,” he says with obvious affection. “The history of this town is fucking unbelievable.”
Geography will become even more important going forward.
“I want to bring in more of the mapping element,” Carr hints, but he’s keeping specifics under wraps for now.
As he prepares for the Patreon launch and release of new material, Carr approaches this moment as a gateway rather than a destination. For longtime followers of Santa Fe’s music scene, his return is notable. Here’s an artist bold enough to evolve while keeping the big ideas that originally drew attention. His move from spectacle to substance, from hiding to openly sharing the process, points to growth that could make whatever comes next worth watching.
In an era where authenticity often gets lost in the demands of the algorithm, Carr’s commitment to a shared human process feels both refreshing and necessary.
