Brooks knows the blues

By D.S. Martin and ChristianWeek | January 15, 2008

Unfortunately, it's not surprising if you don't know Danny Brooks. He's been kicking around little venues, flying under the radar of the Canadian music business for years. And, as is so often the case with blues musicians, he's been getting better with age. His voice is a bear's growl poured through a shimmering trumpet; his testimony is one of clear vision and gratitude to our Saviour.

To sing the blues, you've got to know the blues and Brooks has the credentials. Listen to the wail of his harp punctuated perfectly by the hot horn section on the opening of "Ain't That The Truth," and you know it even before he sings a word. The accompanying musicians are renowned Muscle Shoals players, and Brooks sounds quite at-home with them.

The song tells of Brooks at age 15 watching the likes of Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker and Taj Mahal from the balcony of Toronto's Colonial Tavern where the staff let him sit if he didn't try to sneak a drink. Later in the same song he raves about a Blind Boys of Alabama concert with Susan Tedeschi at Massey Hall (which I also attended in 2006). "It don't get more real than that," he sings. "Brother ain't that the truth."

Another song inspired by that concert is "Where Sinners & Saints Collide." As Brooks looked around the Massey Hall audience he wondered about this congregation of sinners and saints who were united by the music. I recall having remarkably similar thoughts at that show.

Brooks may finally be on the verge of the breakthrough he's earned through all his years of hard work. You'll notice that this CD is not on his own His House Records out of Milton, but on a new American label. Brooks' latest producer is Johnny Sandlin who was a driving force behind Capricorn Records and worked with the Allman Brothers Band on their breakout album Eat A Peach that brought us the hit "Ramblin' Man."

You'll also hear Bonnie Bramlett—best known from Delaney & Bonnie & Friends, who were fortunate enough to have Eric Clapton join them for their tour and live album in 1970. She sings lead on the second verse of "No Easy Way Out." Spooner Oldham plays his Wurlitzer and Hammond B-3 here, as he does on such albums as Neil Young's Prairie Wind and Bob Dylan's Saved. But that's enough name-dropping.

Lyrically this album is less overtly gospel than Brooks' recent releases. You'll still hear his enthusiastic "Lordy, Lordy" or "Good God Almighty" (thankfully expressed in a way that no one could consider irreverent) and a lot of faith-oriented language. "Miracles For Breakfast" (which is also the title of his forthcoming book about how faith helped him kick his addictions) is about how good can come from bad. "I believe that dreams come alive / And miracles for breakfast happen all the time," he sings.

The most obviously gospel song is the last one on the disc, "Carry Me Jesus." It is the only track Brooks didn't have a hand in writing.

I'm still waiting for the third CD in the Soulsville trilogy—Brooks' tribute to the music of Memphis. There is a song called "Memphis, Tennessee" on No Easy Way Out. At first I wondered if this might be that blue rose by another name, but Danny has assured me that this isn't it. There will be a third instalment to Soulsville, which Johnny Sandlin will be producing in honour of the late Richard Bell (the producer of the previous two discs).

"Well I've had enough hanging 'round this town / No hard feelings it's time to move on," Brooks sings on "Bama Bound."

Unfortunately for us, it looks like the road to success will lead him south of the border. Once he's worked through the legalities, he will be relocating with his family to the South that he loves. In the mean time, pick up this album and see if you can catch him in concert.