Brick Briscoe 2026
Found Footage
Digging into the depths of existential dramas, a Hoosier singer-songwriter discovers wondrously moving, and often optimistic, details behind the veil of sorrow.
Brick Briscoe may reside in Indiana, but all of his albums contain songs whose titles reference different states and cities, with one of those pieces making it to the front of "My Favorite Los Angeles Restaurant" back in the pandemic period, yet the cuts which form “Found Footage” break such a pattern to go for a more universal vibe. They pick up where that platter left off, in terms of offering soundtracks for imaginary movies this artist didn’t get to creating as a filmmaker, only there are more pain and hope, as defined by his heightened sense of own mortality. Here’s why the nine numbers running for less than half an hour encompass an immense amount of emotions and touch the listener on a level many a longer record fail to connect.
Brick’s never been averse to sonic experiments, but even so, “Slow Parade Of Flowers” will pack a surprise in its new-wave allure, as Briscoe’s youthful vocals glide over cold twang and motorik beat which enchant and entrance despite his deceptively deadpan delivery before the chamber-slow “Maggie Might” unfolds a bleaker perspective for the singer to get lost in. There are entertaining moments, however, on the way to the nervously sparse, slightly histrionic “Final Romance” where voice and electric strum conspire to chill the audience, and, further on, to the bass-driven “Marquee Swoon” where BB’s intimate recital of words simultaneously defy and deepen the gloom his melodies sculpt. Still, if the post-punk dance of “I Got A Lot Of Money for A Poor Boy” struts with a lot of swagger, and if the groovy, guitar-heavy “Scrambled Eggs & Mondays” paints familial bliss in a somewhat humorous manner, the stunning “Somebody’s Wife” dares to bring up, wrapped in acoustic lace, a tabooed kind of personal tragedy.
Yet the austere “Home Run” starts with “I felt like shit” to startle the audience via its juxtaposition of folk balladry and the acceptance of death, and “The Sequel, Part 3” serves a brighter future in its assessment of homespun horrors to render the album’s finale as anguished and sweet as possible. Yes, enjoying “Found Footage” is difficult but there’s a cathartic experience in this record’s hurt.
*****
