Brooke White Brings Her 70s Singer-Songwriter Vibe to High Hopes and Heartbreak

I’ve been watching American Idol since my friends Libbie and Dan got me hooked on it way back in season one. Dan’s been out of town for most of the seasons since, but Libbie and I still watch it together whenever we can, so by now, I’ve become fairly familiar with more than a hundred finalists. Some of them are monstrously talented. While anyone who knew me well in 2003 would surely tell you that my all-time favorite American Idol contestant is Clay Aiken, I felt a quieter sense of kinship with season seven contestant Brooke White.

Brooke, a sunny, squeaky-clean 24-year-old at the time of her audition, is one of only a handful of finalists who was married when she entered the competition. She charmed Simon Cowell, the British judge so famous for his snarky quips dashing the dreams of the musically clueless, with her confession that she’d never seen an R-rated movie, and he embraced her breezy, laid-back vocal style, a throwback to such 70s singer-songwriters as Carole King and Carly Simon. He pegged her early as a favorite, naming her as one of the four he thought most likely to win the competition. She came in fifth, hanging in there long enough to gain a devoted following.

A glance at her musical influences reveals plenty of overlap with mine, and from the start, I thought her personality, her values and her vibe seemed to mesh with mine. I swooned a bit as I rooted for Clay; with Brooke, I felt like I was voting for the kind of contestant I would be if I had her musical chops. I’m neither married nor Mormon, but a decade after American Idol began, the show has yet to produce a contestant to whom I relate more than Brooke. On High Hopes and Heartbreak, produced by American Idol judge Randy Jackson, she co-wrote all but one of the songs, and she played the piano as well. The result is an album that feels authentic, poetic and full of promise.

Radio Radio - This month, I decided to join the ranks of Facebook users participating in the 30-Day Song Challenge. The point is to link to a song for each of 30 categories, thus demonstrating how thoroughly music permeates our lives. There are so many songs that remind me of particular moments, and moments that remind me of songs. It’s a big part of why I love writing filksongs so much; music is inextricably linked with so many powerful emotions and so many beloved friends, real and fictional alike. Music is a constant companion, and when I’m down, stumbling upon snippets of certain songs can make all the difference in the world to my demeanor. That’s what this song is about, and considering that I listen to Brooke White as a pick-me-up, I think this upbeat track is a perfect way to start the album. “I’ve been wide awake, stayin’ up all night, waitin’ for the song that will make me feel all right.”

Hold Up My Heart - Track two, and we’re starting in with the heartbreak. There’s an unmistakable country twang to this percussion-heavy number, particularly when the guitar kicks in. It’s a fairly up-tempo number in the vein of many songs using pep to hide the pain. She sings of a stilted relationship, where both parties are on speaking terms but it’s more “talking without speaking”. A wedge has developed, even if it hasn’t been overtly acknowledged; admitting her own role in the breakdown, she expresses her hope that they can stumble together toward a renewed closeness. “Please hold up my heart. Give me a reason for this empty silence. You’re here but you seem so far; why did you run away from me?”

Out of the Ashes - This one feels like a natural continuation of the last track. She’s admitting that things are broken and that she messed up, and she’s hoping that they can be fixed. It’s a song of reconciliation – a high hope. Perhaps in part because I play the instrument myself, piano-driven songs have always held particular appeal for me, and Brooke’s strongest American Idol performances were generally those that found her behind the piano. This, then, is a wonderful showcase for her. The lyrics have an open, vulnerable quality to them, and on a song about trying to repair a fractured relationship, the beauty of the harmonies in the chorus is especially striking. “Everybody makes mistakes. Nobody’s, nobody’s perfect. I know that I’ve made mistakes; well, nobody’s, nobody’s perfect. So will you meet me in the middle of the fire escape if it’s not too late?”

Phoenix - The simple placement of this song on the album is brilliant. Out of the Ashes followed by Phoenix - what could be more natural? So it feels like a bit of a fake-out when you realize that she’s singing about Phoenix, Arizona, where she was born. And yet there’s still an element of that mythic bird’s imagery at play here in this breezy, guitar-heavy nostalgic number. It’s an acknowledgment that things change, but they don’t have to be lost in the process. “Oh, let the light shine down on Phoenix when it rains, ‘cause when the sun is shining you know it feels like home.”

When We Were One - Another song on the heartbreak end of the scale. The relationship has ended, but she’s having a hard time coming to grips with it. She’s like Bella Swan in New Moon, wandering around on autopilot with a gaping hole in her chest. A slight country favor to this one as well. The melody is fairly upbeat, but the lyrics remain pretty somber. Healing can come later; right now, she just wants to wallow. “Time is growing hard to bear. Moving on but going nowhere. Still staring at the picture but you’re not there, you’re not there.”

Use Somebody - Guitar is in prominence on this Kings of Leon cover, the only song on the album in which Brooke had no hand in writing. This is a song of romantic interest; it’s not clear how well the speaker and the object of her affections know each other, but it’s apparent that she wants to get to know him better and is willing to put forth whatever effort is necessary to make that happen. “Off in the night while you live it up, I'm off to sleep waging wars to shake the poet and the beat. Well, I hope it's gonna make you notice…”

Smile - This song of mingled misery and optimism reminds me very much of Ryan Kelly’s exquisitely melancholy In Too Deep. A relationship has shattered, and the speaker is trying to pick up the pieces. The legato piano complements Brooke’s yearning vocals beautifully as she expresses a desire to move on with her life while accepting that she’s going to go on missing this person for some time. Although this feels like a song of romantic heartache, the lyrics suggest that it might be a platonic friendship that has broken down; of course, that can be every bit as painful, so this song seems to recognize just how deeply entwined the souls of two friends can be, giving this a slightly wider applicability. A definite favorite. “Like the sun upon my skin, like the whisper on the wind, I'll watch the end begin. I'll miss you, my friend. Oh, and it might take a while, oh, ‘til I forget your smile…”

Little Bird - This guitar-driven track is probably the most country-flavored song on the album. There’s a bit of a sorrowful edge, but overall the tone is optimistic. She’s going through a tough time and addressing a bird with an entreaty to sing her a sweet song to help give her a hopeful outlook. “Well, I don’t care what people say. Gonna believe in love anyway. All of my life I’ve been afraid to lose myself in seasons of change.”

High Hopes and Heartbreak - This one has a slightly mysterious tone to it and is one of the most instrumentally diverse songs on the album. I think I hear a xylophone or marimba and a theramin, giving it a very distinct feel. It’s another song of awakening love. She doesn’t know the guy too well yet and doesn’t really think falling for him is a very good idea, but doggone it, she can’t help herself. Extra cool points to her on this one for trotting out the Star Wars… “Just who do you think you are playing Jedi mind tricks with my heart? Don’t you go and leave me in the dark.”

Sometimes Love - Another song involving a relationship-that-isn’t-quite-yet. It’s clear in this folk-poppish number that she really wants to take it to that next level, but before they start exchanging those dangerous three little words, she wants to make sure they really know what makes each other tick. This piano-driven plea for a deeper dialogue is one of my favorite tracks. “Can we have an honest conversation underneath the surface where we’ve been stayin’, where it’s comfortable, where we play it safe and we try so hard not to make mistakes?”

California Song - This is a fun one that’s more in line with Radio, Radio. In fact, it would make a nice bookend to it, and kind of does, as the last song almost feels like a “P.S.” slightly removed from the rest of the album. Brooke grew up in Arizona but relocated to California as an adult, and she seems to have embraced the new state whole-heartedly. This is a joyous number heavy on the percussion and piano and the references to California landmarks and musicians. It’s fun to catch the nods to America, Joni Mitchell, The Mamas and the Papas and The Beach Boys. In this musical landscape of the West Coast, I’d say she fits right in. “Hey, don’t worry if you get it wrong. Don’t you know that you still belong – na na na na na na – in a California song…”

Be Careful - Brooke’s folkie vibe is strongest on this gentle acoustic track with just a hint of cello and xylophone toward the end. It feels like a lullaby and a love song. I’m not sure how autobiographical those other love songs were – I don’t have the physical album so I’m missing out on the liner notes; I’m curious about the insights she might reveal there – but this feels the most personal and immediate, directed at the husband who presumably must often stay home while she hits the road with her music. She wants to reassure him that though they endure times of separation, he is always on her mind, and she wouldn’t want it any other way. A very sweet ending to the album. “I wouldn’t do very well having to live without you, so keep up your guard, look after your precious heart, and every time that we’re apart remember I’m with you, I’m with you.”

Last year, I filked my way through National Poetry Month, pouring all of my poetic energy into reflections on LOST, which was hurtling toward its conclusion the following month. This year, I haven’t tried my hand at lyrics in ages, but listening to Brooke makes me want to get back in the groove and maybe even attempt a song from scratch, which I haven’t done in well over a year. I hope I do. But even if I never write a radio-worthy song – a very distinct possibility – I’m glad that Brooke White is out there making her music and representing the neo-folkies like me who’ve always felt more at home musically in the decade that predates them.