Sam Brookes – Black Feathers
Go Slowly Records – 2020
Nothing really prepares you for Sam Brookes new album, Black Feathers. First, there’s the voice, four octaves bringing to mind folks like Justin Vernon and Chris Isaak. Then there’s the guitar playing, where he sounds like he’s channeling John Martyn or Bert Jansch. Finally, there are the songs themselves, some gifts of fragile beauty, while others roar with unexpected power.
Perhaps the biggest question is why it took song long to record the follow-up to Kairos. Between the death of his father, watching a long-term relationship crumble and finally losing his best friend, it wasn’t exactly the best of times. He moved to Bristol and began to process everything that had gone on. As a result, Black Feathers became “a meditation on grief,” suggesting that this may not be the easiest listen. While there may be some darkness to these ten songs, at the end of the day there is also incredible beauty.
The guitar playing on Sinking Boats is clearly Martynesque. The entrance of Ethan Johns’ sitting in the drummer’s chair propels the piece into another dimension with Brookes singing, “Go tell your children/ Not to do what we have done.” It feels like it fell out of the Bon Iver songbook. Depression rears its head on 18 and Sleeping; the track, enhanced by Neil Crowley’s piano, offers a look behind the curtain, “A monster comes to change my view/ But I know this place/ And I know you.”
Johns’ drums skitter and swing on Falling and there is no doubting the sadness on this track as Brookes repeatedly sings, “I lost my faith/ I lost my friend.” Yet there is also something about the rhythm of Falling suggesting moving on. “Grief visits you from time to time. It hurts and instinctively you want to fight it, but if you learn to hold it lightly then you can carry it with you, not as a burden but as a guide.”
There is an angelic quality to the voices of Brookes on Be Free on which the simple “wherever you are” takes on a more heavenly impact as voice after voice adds to that simple chant. While, amidst blips and burbles, “The Sleeper” goes from a gentle acoustic number to something much more powerful as the drums and guitars build to a crescendo.
At the end of the day, comparisons about who Sam Brookes sounds like tend to be futile. It simply doesn’t matter. The guitar playing is exquisite, the vocals sublime. As a singer and songwriter, Sam Brookes is already entering the highest echelons. He is a national treasure, and Black Feathers suggests that if it takes another six years for the third volume of songs, the wait will be worth it!
Order Black Feathers via Bandcamp