Album Review: "Baby O" by Brooks Williams – A Soul-Stirring Journey Through Roots and Blues
Let’s cut to the chase—Brooks Williams’ Baby O is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released in 2016 under Red Guitar Blue Music, it's a patchwork quilt of folk, blues, country, and just enough classic grit to keep your toes tapping while tugging at your heartstrings. It’s not perfect, but dang if it doesn’t feel real.
The first thing you notice? The warmth. Maybe it’s Helen Watson’s backing vocals blending seamlessly with Brooks’ gravelly lead, or maybe it’s P.J. Wright’s slide guitar crying out like an old friend who knows all your secrets. Whatever it is, this album wraps itself around you like a well-worn flannel shirt.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck with me long after the record stopped spinning.
“Grinnin’ in Your Face”
This one hits different. You know how sometimes life feels heavy, like everyone’s got their hand out for something from you? Well, this track throws that weight right back atcha—but in the best way possible. Brooks’ acoustic guitar has this raw edge, almost like he didn’t overthink it, and when the harmonica kicks in (shoutout to Keith Warmington), it’s like hearing sunlight break through storm clouds. There’s no fancy production tricks here, just honest-to-goodness storytelling. And man, does it make you sit up straight and listen. I found myself humming it days later, even though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe because it reminds you to grin anyway, even when life’s being a jerk.
“Devil’s Punchbowl”
Oh boy, this song is moody as heck. From the moment David Goodier’s double bass sets the tone, you’re pulled into some swampy, shadowy place where trouble lurks around every corner. Brooks’ resonator guitar growls alongside P.J. Wright’s pedal steel, creating this eerie, cinematic vibe. Lyrically, it’s cryptic enough to leave room for imagination, but vivid enough to paint pictures in your mind. By the time it ends, you kinda wanna play it again immediately, just to figure out what exactly went down in that punchbowl. Is it redemption? Revenge? Or just plain bad luck? Either way, it sticks to your ribs.
What makes Baby O special isn’t perfection—it’s personality. Brooks and his crew sound like they’re having fun, even when things get dark. They let the music breathe, leaving space for imperfections that somehow make everything more human. You can hear the creak of a chair here, the faint shuffle of feet there—it’s alive.
And then there’s this weird little detail: Brooks included multiple versions of certain songs, like “Grinnin’ in Your Face” and “I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good).” At first, I thought, “Why repeat yourself?” But the more I listened, the more it felt intentional, like he was saying, “Hey, come closer. Look at this from another angle.” It’s quirky, sure, but also kinda brilliant.
So yeah, Baby O might not change your life overnight, but it’ll settle into your bones slowly, like good whiskey. It’s messy, heartfelt, and unapologetically authentic—a reminder that music doesn’t need bells and whistles to move you.
Final thought? If Brooks ever decides to tour Mars, I’m buying a ticket.
