Memphis-based singer-songwriter Brian Blake is here with his debut album, Book of Life, but has already achieved some notoriety as a songwriter, having won the Songwriter of the Year in 2021 by the Memphis Songwriters Association for “Move on J.D.,” one of the songs included on this effort. Blake has also proved to be astute. When a successful regional singer-songwriter wants to attract national appeal, he often needs the name recognition of a producer or musician or both. Blake turned to well-respected Texas singer-songwriter Walt Wilkins and multi-instrumentalist Ron Flynt as co-producers, who helped get the album recorded in Austin. e Win, Flynt, fiddler Warren Hood, Wilkins, and vocalist Betty Soo – a veritable who’s who of Austin session musicians.
Blake begins his stirring set of narratives that unfold in basically chronological order with “Rice Fields in the Distance,” a story that welcomes in the listener right away with “OId Hank’s sitting on the front porch/rocking the days away/Ever since he went blind, you know he ain’t/had much to say…” as the narrator talks about Blake’s great-grandparents raising a family of eight children during the Great Depression and somehow making ends meet, Hank’s wife, Kate, living to 97 with the theme being that hard work has it benefits. The title track is about coping with death and finding the resilience to move forward while “Rose Marie,” of presumably WW II vintage, has a soldier recently called to duty, bidding his wife a tearful farewell while holding out the promise of his return.
Some of the songs diverge from family into certain landmarks in the area’s history such as the snappy blues “Ott Hotel,” a spooky tale about supposed past murders and ghosts that now inhabit the once reputable and popular spot before the disappearance of two visitors. The jaunty “Meant to Be” is more oblique but likely a reference to someone in Blake’s family history who goes through marriages like disposal napkins. Blake delivers it a bit tongue in cheek, such that the character deserves little sympathy. “Move On J.D.” is the quintessential song about a homeless vet, a subject that few writers touch. Ultimately this J.D. finds a home, but not the way you might think. “New Year’s Day” is a fond remembrance of past lover.
Brotherton’s mandolin sets a peppy pace for “Wilson,” about the age-old subject of a “man’s best friend,” in this case a rescue dog, that became the protagonist’s trusty companion. “In Too Deep” is another regretful, yet yearning perspective on a lost relationship. Standout track “Little Boys” depicts that full circle when one has witnessed the death of both his grandfather and father. This indelible chorus is enduringly provocative – “’Cause grown men never lose their daddies/Only little boys do/And inside of every man/lives a little boy too/Lives a little boy too.”
The closing track, “Nothing Gold Can Stay,” brings us to the present day with Blake first painting images of small-town America, his favorite haunts, and reminiscing on the freedom of youth. It’s as if he has a tear in his eye, takes a deep breath, and then expresses gratitude for having grown up there. Every story here rings with authenticity while the music is supportive and never intrusive. We hear every one of Blake’s words and marvel at his storytelling.
