Tom Brosseau goes all in

Tom Brosseau sounds like a girl when he sings—sort of.

“I usually get the Tim Buckley comparison,” laughs the 28-year-old Brosseau about his voice. “Maybe it’s because we both want to sound like a woman—Mahalia Jackson. I’d be very surprised if Tim Buckley wasn’t influenced by her too.”

It’s a unique voice, definitely with feminine qualities, yet somehow it still manages to sound like Johnny Cash’s “American Recording”-era singing mixed with Buckley’s voice (Jeff or Tim, take your pick). You can’t miss it and you can’t ignore it.

Brosseau’s gospel influences aside, his new recording is a sparsely adorned folk piece, the stuff of the mythical America so often sung about in music from the early to mid part of the last century. Life’s little details: small towns, car rides listening to old tapes, love gained and lost, wandering around. You know, real folk.

A wistful, thumb plucked melody line rings over the first few quiet strums of Brosseau’s guitar on “West of Town,” the opening track off his new record “What I Mean to Say Is Goodbye.” Then, Brosseau’s voice: “The girl I loved—I recall so well—where I saw her last / She was standing waist-high, in waves of prairie grass.” Brosseau’s tasteful harmonica solo hums nicely in the middle of the song, but other than that, it’s just voice and acoustic guitar. Understatement is the theme, and with success. Violin, Wurlitzer, organ, piano and the occasional backing vocal appear here and there, but Brosseau’s voice remains the centerpiece.

“It’s a good thing I had San Diego to introduce me to California,” says the North Dakota native of the life journey that landed him in The Golden State. “Los Angeles is a circus,” he says on the phone with an audible smile, “But in a good way.”

Los Angeles might as well be Mars if you’re from North Dakota, but a few songs written here, a relationship with a “gal” there and, voila! Midwestern boy is smack dab in the middle of the smog covered glad-handing L.A. singer-songwriter scene (via San Diego, home of the aforementioned “gal”).
Brosseau did a phone interview with The Wire while traveling with his agent to St. Louis for his next gig, the latest date on a three-month tour that will bring him from coast to coast and to  The Blue Mermaid in Portsmouth on Thursday, Oct. 20.

“It’s important to not be afraid of going out into the world,” opines Brosseau. “I’ve gotten so good at it, I don’t think I want to have a home anymore!”

Apparently so. Brosseau cut out of his apartment lease in Topanga, Calif., and doesn’t officially “live” anywhere but the road at the moment. Seems he took the old Woody Guthrie song “I Ain’t Got No Home in This World Anymore” to heart.

“The stuff I could crash at a friend’s house I did, but I couldn’t have anything bulky like a couch. I put my couch out on the curb,” he says with a chuckle. “It was gone within two hours. It’s my way of giving back to the community.”

Shortly after his arrival in Los Angeles, Brosseau fell in with the crowd at the famed listening room and songwriter hangout, Largo. That’s where he met Sam Jones, the fellow who ended up recording and co-producing his CD. Jones is best known for his documentary of the band Wilco, “I Am Trying To Break Your Heart.”

“I had been working on this concept about some of the things I had been going through,” says Brosseau of the album. “All the songs were pretty much written around the time I got to L.A. All the songs deal with North Dakota and the people I met back there.” Jones provided the opportunity to see the project through.

“Sam and I developed a friendship. Eventually it made too much sense to record, so we did. I really liked his vision for the songs,” voiced Brosseau.

Hanging at Largo has its perks. Folks like Benmont Tench of Tom Petty’s Heartbreakers, producer Jon Brion (Fiona Apple, Rufus Wainwright), and Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek all make appearances on, and fine contributions to, the CD.

Perhaps Brosseau is saying goodbye to his past, to the prairies of North Dakota, or saying goodbye to the fear of living life out in the world. Or maybe he’s just saying hello to music and the life of a traveling modern-day hobo. Just don’t expect a rag-tag fellow with a stick over his shoulder.

“They can expect a well-dressed performer,” says Brosseau. “I’ve got a nice suit and tie I’m going to wear.”

“The plan?” says Brosseau when asked of his future. “To travel around to as many different places as possible until the day I die.” Soon he can add Portsmouth to that list.