Brookfield

I remember last year at some point Tom told me about Amber Run, saying he knew I would love it. I listened, curse Tom's name, and then ended up loving it. But they had these three EPs they dropped and I hadn't heard any of them until they all had dropped, so I was confused on what to write about them because it was like a pile of cookies. Sure, I like cookies, but I didn't want to write about the whole pile because they were three separate projects, but I didn't want to write about each EP because I discovered them all at the same time.

So I did some digging and discovered they were about to drop a re-release of some of the same songs but on a major label. Well, what ended up happening was that they re-recorded some of the songs I loved from the 3 EPs, but it was fucking plastic as shit. It felt so forced, so pushy pop, so "we just signed this band no one knows about, let's turn up ALL THE KNOBS!". I was devastated. 

It didn't hurt me personally, but I felt bad for those dudes. They have THREE GREAT EPs worth of tunes out, and then some dude shows up with a wad of cash and a licensing deal and all of a sudden they have a stylist and are wearing clothes from the GAP even though we ALL know them dudes was raised on thrift shop duds like the rest of us assholes.

Why the fuck am I writing about Amber Run when it says Brookfield at the top? 

Because Brookfield is hitting me exactly where Amber Rub was hitting me before they had sex for money.

Where Amber Run feels forced, Brookfield feels like they're just open arms-ing this sumbitch and the sound is fucking money. Obviously British as fuck, Brookfield sounds like what can only be described as heartfelt peace. Dude is somber, dude is serene, dude has somehow crafted a style that's both polished and patient, and the result is something I could just as soon fall asleep to as I could wake up to. Nothing jarring, nothing abrasive, and like my initial feelings about Amber Run before him, this is the shit I could watch a montage of my life played out in front of me while listening to. 

Brookfield's Cloud9 EP sounds like he's playing just the tip, because it's a full on tease. Four songs, all as equally contemplative, all hands shoved sternly in pockets, with the chin tucked down into the collar to block the sideways spitting rain. Brookfield is pop for cloudy days, and fucking knitted ass motherfucking clothing bro. 

While I wouldn't bump Brookfield while getting ready to party, I've bumped it to settle myself the fuck down because I've noticed as I've aged that the stresses of the day don't just brush off like they used to. Those stresses are a fucking plaque that's carried on your shoulders and sometimes a good fucking cry and a good fucking introspective stare out the window for a few hours is all a motherfucker needs to feel pretty again, na mean?

Bump this Brookfield, feel pretty again. 

I did. I do. I mean, fucking look at me? Pretty as FUCK.