LUSCIOUS: The Rock Revival We Didn’t Know We Needed

By: Ayeshah ‘Ice’ Somani

There’s a moment in every band’s rise where the buzz becomes self-sustaining. That moment just happened for Luscious.

The Toronto-Kingston-based band just dropped their latest single, Infatuation, and it’s got that unmistakable energy of a group stepping out of the “local scene” and into something much louder. With their eyes set on bigger festival stages, a return to the studio after a year, and a grip of new tracks ready to go, Luscious is gearing up for what might be their biggest year yet. But before they blow up your feed (and your speakers), we sat down to talk about the origin story, the name, the grit-meets-glam aesthetic, and why they might just be the Britney Spears of rock.

Let’s rewind. Luscious started out under a different name: The Brielle LeBlanc Band. But pretty much from day one, Brielle made it clear, this wasn’t a solo project with extras. “We needed our own name, our own identity,” the band explains. “Luscious” emerged as a word that hit both visually and sonically. It’s cheeky. It’s bold. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a group blending the polished stage presence of early 2000s pop icons with the raw edge of grunge-era greats.

Of course, that didn’t stop the band from almost changing the name, until they landed opening slots for acts like The Beaches, Def Leppard and Kim Mitchell. At that point, there was no going back. “People knew us as Luscious. We had to keep it.”

The band’s sound is both unique and nostalgic. One minute you’re catching Gwen Stefani and Stone Temple Pilots energy, the next it’s Red Hot Chili Peppers and Blondie. “We all bring different things to the table,” says keyboardist Doug, who jokes that he’s the “music nerd” of the group, and showed up to his first rehearsal thinking he’d joined a much older, more established band.

Turns out, the core trio, Brielle, Kurt, and Wyatt, had been playing together since their early Rock Academy days. Add Brielle’s brother Cole on bass and Doug’s theatrical flair on keys, and the lineup locked into place. As they describe it: “We’ve got a polished frontwoman and a bunch of grungy dudes behind her. It just works.”

If you’re wondering what makes Luscious different, the answer might be Britney Spears. No, really.

“I want to be the Britney Spears of rock,” Brielle says without hesitation. “There’s something about commanding a stage, bringing full entertainment, not just sound.” She references pop powerhouses like Tate McRae and Chapel Roan alongside classic alt heroes like The Runaways and The Tragically Hip. It’s that sweet spot, where glam meets guts, that defines both Luscious’s live show and their aesthetic.

Don’t expect half-baked TikTok bait or perfectly airbrushed IG grids, though. “We’re not about being hyper-polished,” the band says. “We’re just being ourselves. If that means posting us watching YouTube in a hotel room, then that’s what it is.”

From Dive Bars to Stadium Dreams

After years of playing covers in bar scenes across Ontario, Luscious made a conscious decision to pivot. “We threw our flag in the ground,” they say. “No more bar shows. No more 3 a.m. drives home. We’re playing our own music, or we’re not playing at all.”

It paid off. In the past year, they’ve opened for Def Leppard and Tom Morello, locked in major festival slots (including LineSpike 2026), and spent time honing a live show that feels like a full-on experience. “We rehearse hard. Like, full-theatre-run-throughs. We treat it like theatre meets rock and roll.”

The band is headed back into the studio with seven new tracks locked and loaded. Rather than drop a full album all at once, they’re taking a strategic approach: singles first, vinyl later.

“In today’s landscape, you can’t just drop a record and hope people find it,” they explain. “Each track deserves its own rollout, its own spotlight. So we’re going to trickle them out across the year, then package it all together.”

Behind the scenes, their writing process is just as collaborative as their stage presence. “No ego,” they insist. “If someone brings an idea, we try it. If it works, great. If not, onto the next. Everyone contributes.”

Old Souls in a Digital World

It’s hard not to root for Luscious. They’ve got the nostalgic soul of a ‘90s rock band, but they’re navigating 2020s internet culture with the kind of authenticity most artists fake in brand decks. “We don’t dress up like it’s the ‘70s,” Doug says. “We’re not trying to cosplay classic rock. It’s just in us.”

That authenticity is their edge, and their brand. They’re not chasing viral trends. They’re building a legacy. “The 1970s rockstars had mystery,” Brielle says. “Now everything is on camera, but we still want to create that feeling, that you’re watching something real.”

So What’s the Message?

Simple: Get off the couch.

“We’re trying to bring back live music culture,” the band says. “Not everything should be TikTok and Netflix. Go to shows. Support your friends. Buy the damn T-shirt.”

They’re not wrong. In a world of algorithms and short attention spans, Luscious is a reminder that some things still need to be loud, messy, and completely unforgettable.

You can catch them at upcoming festivals, and hopefully more Toronto shows soon (someone please book them at Velvet Underground already). Until then, stream Infatuation, stalk their IG, and remember: rock isn’t dead, it just grew its hair back.

Follow Luscious:

Instagram: @luscioustheband

Listen: Spotify

Merch, shows, and news: www.lusciousband.com