Tom BrosseauGrand ForksLoveless RecordsFour out of five stars
Within the first few notes of Tom Brosseau’s newest endeavor, Grand Forks, you’re transported to a different land and a different time.
Grand Forks is traditional country in form, execution and sensibility. At the same time, however, it’s clear that Grand Forks is not a dusty 45 spinning lazily on a record player; it’s a new manifestation that brings the old sound of Hank Williams Sr. and Carl Perkins to a new generation of punk rockers. Tom Brosseau’s closest relatives in this new age would be Jolie Holland or M. Ward.
Grand Forks tells a story of Brosseau’s hometown, Grand Forks, which was visited by a flood within the last few years. Grand Forks draws from the dreariness and tired frustration of a town ankle deep in cloudy water.
The songs that best tell the story include the locomotive chug of “Plaid Lined Jacket,” the somber wistfulness of “Here Comes the Water Now” and the more obvious “97 Flood.” “Blue Part of the Windshield” is another excellent portrayal of the once-dusty-town-now-muddy, and Brosseau’s falsetto voice perfectly captures the mood. It sounds a bit like the lull of unassuming water languidly running through town; it innocently erodes the banks of your heart and spills into your gut.
