About - David Habian Unplugged

about me

david lc habian

David LC Habian is a country-rock singer-songwriter from Northeast Ohio whose music is rooted in real life, not fiction. Blending modern country with rock influences, his songs explore addiction, redemption, heartbreak, resilience, and the lessons learned from a life that’s seen both hard roads and second chances. David began writing songs more than two decades ago, drawing from personal experiences that include his time as a rodeo cowboy and bull rider from 2001 to 2004, as well as blue-collar life, broken relationships, and recovery. His gritty baritone voice and honest lyrics are shaped by artists like Waylon Jennings, Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, and 90s rock, creating a sound that feels both timeless and modern. His debut single, “Heartbreak Train,” uses the image of an unstoppable train as a metaphor for the addictions and attachments that people know they should leave behind but can’t seem to escape. Rather than offering easy answers, David’s songs tell the truth about struggle while leaving room for hope. Whether performing acoustic or backed by a full band, David LC Habian delivers music with authenticity, heart, and the belief that the best songs are the ones that are lived belfore they’re written.

"THIS AINT MY FIRST RODEO"

By the age of 24, in 2001, I began riding bulls at Circle M Rodeo in Orwell, Ohio. Those two worlds ran side by side—music and riding. By my eighth ride, though, I was in a hospital bed—my head split down to the skull, 14 staples holding me together. But the true pain was always something I carried inside.

I kept riding, though. In 2004, Jewel’s Dance Hall in Ashtabula sponsored me, and I took 1st place in their summer series. I trained with Mike Yunker in Mansfield, always trying to catch up to a past I couldn’t let go of. But in 2005, the courts forced me to quit riding.

Still, the fire never left. In 2019, I climbed back on at the Lake County Fair—one ride, and that ride broke my collarbone. I wasn’t done chasing those lost years. In 2021, sober for the first time, I joined the S.E.B.R.A. circuit—a whole series of rides, each one a step toward reclaiming what I lost. And even after I stepped back, there’s a part of me that can never be tamed—a restlessness that still rides with me today. I still can’t tame it—and maybe, I never will.

How i got my nickname "lc"

“They call me LC, and here’s why: Back in my bull riding days, I was always the smallest in the crew. My buddies started calling me ‘The Littlest Cowboy’ after a Chris LeDoux song, and over time, that just got shortened to LC. The name stuck—so here I am!”

lets dance

I started line dancing in 2001 at Jewels Dance Hall in Ashtabula, Ohio. It didn’t take long before I fell in love with the place—it quickly began to feel like home.

Over the years, I met so many incredible people there, many of whom are still close friends today. Jewels wasn’t just about dancing—it was where connections were made, memories were built, and even a few romantic relationships began.

It’s also where I first got into bull riding, adding even more excitement to the experience.

Jewels became well-known beyond our local community, even being mentioned in the famous song “I Love This Bar” by Toby Keith.

Although the dance hall is now closed, the spirit of that place lives on. We’re still a strong line dance community, coming together whenever we can to keep the music, friendships, and tradition alive

Messenger_creation_CE712403-006F-4A72-A6F3-F5989AD77760

Messenger_creation_72BC85C1-DDCB-406B-A601-F68AB7DB46EF

Jack of many master of none

From Circuits to Craft – My Journey in Electronics & Machining

My journey into electronics started early. At just 12 years old, my father taught me how to read schematics, solder, and build using electronic components. That foundation sparked a lifelong interest—especially in high-voltage systems, which still fascinates me to this day.

By 17, I was already working in a machine shop, learning how to set up and run screw machines. Around that same time, I worked alongside my father doing residential and commercial electrical wiring. Those hands-on experiences pushed me to teach myself how to troubleshoot three-phase equipment, and before long, I was taking on more complex work both with my dad and independently.

In 2004, while serving time at N.E.O.C.A.P., I studied for the state electrical exam, determined to take my skills to the next level. However, after my release, I learned I wasn’t eligible to take the exam due to a felony on my record. It was a setback—but not the end of the road.

I continued working in electrical for many years without a license, building real-world experience through persistence and self-reliance. Over time, though, my passion for that line of work began to fade.

For the past five years, I’ve worked at Francis Engineering in Leroy, Ohio, where I’ve worn many hats—handling electrical work, machining, shop maintenance, and even helping care for their horses.

These days, my focus has shifted. My eyes are set on building a career in music. At this point in my life, it feels right to pursue something I truly love—and find a way to make a living doing it.

duke and fel

my babies

Boots & Hope – An Unlikely Bond

Boots is a wild cottontail I found as a tiny baby a few springs ago. I was out by the horse barns killing weeds when I suddenly heard a squeal beneath my boot. I stepped back and saw a tiny bunny move forward just a few feet. I picked him up, and from that moment on, it was love at first sight.

Many people said he wouldn’t survive, but I fed him goat’s milk from a bottle for the first 10 days until he was strong enough for solid food. Against the odds, he grew stronger every day. Boots and I became inseparable—he would even sit on my shoulder as I drove from place to place.

As time went on, though, his wild instincts began to take over. One day he stopped letting me hold him, and I knew he was becoming what he was meant to be. Still, I could tell he was lonely.

Last October, I brought home a 6-week-old Mini Rex female and named her Hope—because at the time, I needed some hope in my own life. At first, I kept her in a cage while Boots roamed free so they could slowly get used to each other.

By February, I built Hope a pen before going into rehab, not wanting her stuck in a cage for a month. Somehow, Boots found a way to squeeze through a narrow gap and join her. To my surprise, they got along beautifully.

People said a wild cottontail and a domestic rabbit would never bond—but once again, Boots proved them wrong.

the struggle within

Growing up, I struggled with depression and addiction from a very young age. I was drinking by the time I was around 12 years old, always chasing something that could quiet my mind for a while. What started with alcohol eventually turned into a decades-long battle with pills, jail time, rehabs, psychiatric wards, overdoses, and drugs I swore I would never touch.

After surviving a near-fatal car accident in 2002 that left me without a kidney, things spiraled even further. Prescription pain medication opened doors to even darker addictions, and over the years I found myself battling alcohol, cocaine, heroin, meth, and countless self-destructive behaviors that nearly took my life more than once. I crossed lines I never imagined crossing, including becoming an IV drug user, and there were many times I honestly didn’t think I’d survive.

But somehow I did.

Music became one of the few places where I could tell the truth about what I lived through. The songs I sing and write come from real pain, real mistakes, real loss, and real survival. There’s a reason behind every lyric that speaks about darkness, redemption, loneliness, regret, hope, and fighting to keep going.

I recently checked into rehab again in February at Glenbeigh after battling another addiction, taking up to 75 kratom pills a day. Recovery is still a journey for me, but today I’m still here, still standing, and still using music to tell my story the only honest way I know how.