
Sam Brookes
Student Union,
Durham
29/10/2011
In a country-inspired outfit with a shoulder-length barnet, Sam Brookes looks as though he could be a forgotten Followill brother. Luckily for punters at the dimly lit Vane Tempest Sessions, a weekly affair showcasing – in their words – “the
UK’s most exciting folk and indie artists”, this 24-year-old is not here to push the same tepid brand of commercial muzak as his doppelgangers.
Powering through a set of sparkly electroacoustic gems with soothing yet raw vocals, Brookes showcases Jeff Buckley-esque chords on ‘Doors’, an ethereal lullaby for this twilight set with a compelling whistling loop. Another highlight is his forte into political consciousness on ‘A Roof On My Head’. It is rare to find mature folksy lyricism which doesn’t self-parody in its efforts to ape Dylan, Mitchell, et al. and his candid ballad for
Libya could have easily been saccharine. Brookes’ perpetually sad melodies, however, never seem disingenuous, nor do his simple, soul-searching words on killing and corruption. The most commercial offerings of the set, ‘Breathe Me In’ and ‘Hold On’, are more formulaic but not disappointingly so, even if the latter does sound vaguely like an old
Texas B-side. Inevitably some less lyrically-driven and repetitive songs are needed when little concentration is required and arm swaying permitted, if only to show that Brookes doesn’t take himself too seriously.
Headlining this small venue with support from student musicians rather than acting as a support to a larger act as he has done for the likes of Ray Davies and Scott Matthews, Sam Brookes looks comfortable and capable tonight. Formerly of The Volt, the solo singer songwriter guise is a relatively new one for him, but this inexperience rarely shows. With one album under his belt, the most pertinent question is whether he can ensure that he remains a three-dimensional raconteur rather than a one-dimensional strummer or, worse still, a commercial act (the record companies could always, ahem, ‘Use Somebody’).
Hannah Davies