Brolin – “NYC”

So mysterious this isn’t even a silhouette of Brolin.

Sometimes, when we’re all lucky enough, we come across something we’re so absurdly sure about that we don’t  have to over think, posture or over-analyze.  Be it a movie, the first time you meet your future best friend or perhaps even something as small as a stunning song- when we first stumble across these moments, everything goes away.

With “NYC” by Brolin there were two revelatory moments. The moment I knew I liked it and the moment I knew I liked it a lot. Both come before the song is 35 seconds old.

“NYC” is a song that’s broken up by small, precise moments along a string of continuity provided by a percussive drum machine. It’s this quiet song that screams just because all the worlds sounds are a click away, it doesn’t mean you have to use them.

It appears that this song takes after it’s maestro as even with all the hype that’s marching towards him with Radio 1 play the mysterious Brolin, who identified himself as Koko B. Ware (who is actually this person), doesn’t succumb to interview requests or pimp himself to all the worlds media outlets. In fact, the little that we know about him comes from fourteen words on his Soundcloud page. “I am a bedroom producer, self-taught, self-analysing, into beats, space, and melody.”

I’m going to be spending time with some friends in the car this weekend as we’re heading on a trip. Given that, one of two universal moments is bound to come up:

A song comes on. It’s the perfect song for there and then and everyone knows it. You grab the friend next to you, act a fool, and belt out your own off-key terribly harmonized version together. Everyone laughs. It’s a grand old-time. Often, when the song’s over the designated DJ tries to manufacture that same feeling with a similar but different song. Chances are, as with most things, it’s just not as good as it was when it was organic.

A song comes on. It’s not the kind that lends itself to belting.  It’s not the kind that makes you grab your friend next to you. Instead it’s the kind where even though you’re in a car with your friends everyone calms and slips into their own world. No one says anything. You just look out the window and listen. It’s not some manufactured emo moment but rather something genuine and subconscious and no matter what it can’t be brought on again by whatever song you play after because the very nature of selecting another song, or even moving too much snaps you out of the world you were just in.

This is Brolin’s “NYC.”

Bonus song:

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