Sleepin' Late on a Saturday: Discovering Marc Broussard

First, let me say I'm a little frustrated by this month's Musical Discovery, Marc Broussard. And you wouldn't like me when I'm frustrated.

That's your hypothetical computer, by the way, not mine.

Here's why: it is dang near impossible to find any (legal) quality recordings of this guy's music anywhere. Pretty much all the YouTube videos of him were recorded on cell phones or worse. He's only released a couple official music videos, and his fans seem to think that sharing his genius with the rest of the world is nothing short of a felony.

Pictured: The only thing worse than a cell phone video recording.

So, I'm going to apologize right here and now, because while I did eventually find a free, legal collection of all of his full songs (not just samples), it comes at a great cost. It means revisiting memories. Old memories. Maybe painful memories. It means hearkening back to the awkward days of our youth. It means broken promises and broken hearts. It means summoning every last drop of willpower and resolution under the sun. It means sacrifice.  It means going back to MySpace. I know what it is that I ask of you, but please, bear with me as we suffer through this together. My hope is that the musical benefits here will far outweigh the personal cost. So plug your nose, hold your breath, close your eyes, and let's dive in...

First, before our tour-de-force begins, a little history on the man and his music. On January 14, 1982, in a quiet Louisiana town called Carencro, a tiny Marc Broussard popped out into the world, covered in placenta and presumably crooning about losing his house and still being legally blind.

"I ain't got no friends but my dusty ol' six-string."

Born to Louisiana Hall of Fame guitarist, Ted Broussard and a woman whose name has been forever lost to the unforgiving abyss of Time (to be fair, I didn't look that hard), little Marc was surrounded by great Cajun food and intense, soulful music from the beginning. Raised in such an enviable environment, it's no surprise that Marc followed in his father's footsteps and took up writing powerful songs that speak to the Bayou in all of us. However, his music can be difficult to classify at times. There's definitely a strong theme of Delta blues woven through much of it, but there are elements of Americana folk, R&B, and funk ribboned across there, as well. It's this musical identity crisis that I think both helps and hurts Broussard over the course of his four album releases. While the variety certainly keeps his music fresh and sets it apart from the standard, repetitive blues fare, it can (at times) feel disjointed and confusing.

His debut record, Momentary Setback, is a prime example of this. Although the album is rife with wonderful songs, they're all over the place. It jerks back and forth between folksy affairs like Wanderer, soulful ballads such as Jeremiah's Prayer, and funky grooves like Blue Jeans. There doesn't seem to be much, if any, rhyme or reason as to the ordering of the songs, either. It's like the producer chewed up little bits of Bob Dylan, Harry Nilsson, and Seal, then just barfed up a rainbow combination onto a Ouija board and made his decisions from there.

[I, uh.... don't think I have a picture for that. -Ed.]

His sophomore effort, Carencro (yes, named after his hometown), is by far his best, and I'm saving that for last. His third album, S.O.S.: Save Our Souls, is more refined, letting Marc explore his R&B side in full force. Now, granted, he doesn't exactly have Isaac Hayes' voice going on here. I mean, look at him.

White Chocolate

However, S.O.S. isn't as embarrassing as one might imagine. From slow, beautiful groove ballads like Come In From the Cold, to (semi-awkward) funks like Love and Happiness, and even Motown throwbacks such as If I Could Build My Whole World Around You, the love-and-love-lost croonings on this album feel more collective. Sadly, they lack much of the near-tangible soulfulness that overflowed from Broussard's first two records. And, as I mentioned before, he just doesn't have the smooth, silky voice to melt hearts by the fireside.

Marc's fourth and latest album, Keep Coming Back, wisely turned its focus back to Broussard's folksy, Louisiana roots. Ultimately, the songs performed here feel the most mature. The style and variety is more refined than Momentary Setback or Carencro, and the arrangement eases you through the album. Unfortunately, it's almost a little too mature. Broussard seemed to have trouble regaining that soulful youth from years gone by, and the songs just seem to run a little flat. Sure, he's got featured singers like LeAnn Rimes and Sara Bareilles, but that almost comes off as a compensation of sorts. Now, maybe that isn't entirely fair. It's easy to tell that Marc's having a lot of fun on this album, and maybe that's all he wanted: a fun record for lazy summer evenings. And that's okay by me.

Everyone loves lazy summer evenings.

I didn't link to a lot of songs from Keep Coming Back, because frankly, there aren't that many notable tracks, and because I'm anxious to get on to our best and final album, Carencro. Broussard's second studio release, this powerhouse of soulful blues, blueful soul, and funky funk crashes into the ear canals like giant vanilla ice cream siege weapons into a flourishing apple pie castle. That is, in the best and most delicious way possible.

[Seriously. What am I supposed to do with this crap? -Ed.]

I mean, when you start off with a song like Home, so deeply seeded in its Delta blues origins and just so dang fun, it's pretty hard to go wrong. In fact, Broussard just goes on from there, pushing his singing and songwriting to its limits, and pouring his heart and soul and voice into every track. Every piece of Marc's best is on display here: heartfelt love-grooves like Come Around, The Beauty of Who You Are, and Rocksteady; all-American, drive-with-the-top-down folk-rock anthems like Where You Are and Save Me; funktastic awesomeness like Saturday, soul-stirring blues offerings such as Lonely Night In Georgia and (one of my personal favorites) Let Me Leave, touching ballads like Hope For Me Yet, and a beautiful acoustic tribute to his son in Gavin's Song. Now, if that hasn't satisfied your musical palette for the day, then you should hire Mr. Broussard to write a blues song for you, because that's just sad.

And on that note (pun possibly intended), I think it's about time to wrap things up here. I hope you enjoyed this month's Musical Discovery, and may I offer as a teaser, a glimpse at next month's artist...

HUZZAH!

Happy Valentine's Day to all you fellow single people out there! May Cupid's arrows miss all your vital organs and arteries!