Will Brown
In Conversation with
Writer: Evie Summers
Will Brown is an artist who offers a perspective rather foreign to British audiences, having been born and raised in Kansas by a preacher, attending church every week and singing in his choir. It is undeniable that the impact the church and God have had on Will's life and music. His voice drips with the gospel grounding of his youth; it carries soul and body in a way that sounds undeniably divine. Will's debut EP, however, begins to offer us something different. This piece of work is very much a fully realised concept beyond the usual EP remit. Will has crafted a world for us to visit, through which we journey to a new place through self-discovery, acceptance, and introspection. Where we find ourselves, Brownsville; Will Brown’s very own sanctuary city soundtracked by Pop soul. We discuss what inspired his move from Gospel to Pop.
"I knew the messages that I wanted to portray were bigger than the church", Will tentatively expressed. Through his discovery, it's easy to see faith is at the foundational level of his creation and character, and I don't believe that reverence is going anywhere. He raises an interesting point, saying "these messages and especially with Golden' don't call when you're drunk in love' I can't say that in church" It was a point that stuck with me through our talk, how does an artist navigate themselves and expression when there is an unspoken revelation of which parts of ourselves we are free even to discuss. How do we seek personal revelation if we are at some level muzzled by what is appropriate and respectable?
Our conversational line unfurls further to the place of performance in such a context as a church. Much of American religious culture places particular significance on a performance of sorts. Expressing love and faith through media such as gospel singing, active praise becomes central to the relation not only with God but with the congregation and, on a deeper level, the community that springs from it. However, there is a juxtaposing pressure that is similarly prominent, one that is not confined to the states, and that is the disdain of pride. "I feel like it is because one of the things that we were taught is about having pride. It is not to be so prideful and so boastful. So, it was all about being very humble."
Strangely, it was a feeling I often sat with regarding a creative career, where self-promotion is invaluable and confidence a necessity. I pressed Will on whether this fear of pride had led him to diminish his own light over the years. "It was hard for me to be on stage because I wanted to make sure I wasn't being boastful. But I didn't realize it was just confidence, a gift from God. It took years to realize that it's not about pride; being confident is okay, and that's completely different." The church promotes relinquishing self-involvement in favor of service, creating a tension between moral virtue and sinful pride. Many of us grow up fearing the latter, doing all we can to purge ourselves of it. "I think that’s how I lost a bit of myself on the journey. It’s not the main piece; it’s context." We must make peace with what we want out of life. This crossroad is one Will tackles head-on in
"Welcome to Brownsville"
This work has been a long time in the making, carefully created from Will Brown's mind's eye. Despite his immersion in music, there was a time he forsook his dreams of becoming a musician to join "corporate America." Separated from creativity, his only musical outlet was singing in the church choir. "In that moment, I had given up on music. The only thing I was doing was singing at church. That was the whole creative process done." Here, faith emerged as his tenuous link to his musical abilities.
All of us experience times in our lives that bring us out, put the world in focus, our lives in context. They are times in which we examine what we are doing and why. This came at a surprising time for Will. "What really struck me was after I bought my house, I just got to a really low moment in my life, and I realised it's not working for me any more. I was masking, and I got sick of being somebody who I wasn't, and I felt like I was giving up on my dream. I always felt like defeat was never an option. And that's when I said,
"No, I'm leaving Kansas City." It was that moment. It was at my lowest moment."
Now a homeowner, he realised it wasn't worth what it had cost him, his passion and sanity. This EP is an allegory for moments of contemplation and introspection, and on this note of soul-searching, Will delivers us 'I found you'. "If you listen to 'I Found You', it's about the house. I spent my whole life working for a home I'm not living in, and I'm stuck here, thinking it's another man's dream"
Like shame, I believe wants can be inherited- informed by the appetites of those who raise us. We're in a world where the pursuit of material betterment is our magnum opus. To have value is to have capital. When the foundation of your character is based on religious teaching, a tangled web of societal expectations is created. One calls to serve the other to own, both in the case of America intimately ground into the psyche of its people. This interconnectedness creates a conflict within us, forcing us to play both the role of sinners and that of condemners. We spend our lives pinballed between the two posts of success and righteousness and are left with no time or scope to access our own desires free of influence. It is this confused mess that Will invites us to leave at the gates of Brownsville.
This project presents a strong, mature, and beautiful visual narrative through methodical and honest writing. Each element is clearly considered and impactful. "It was very important because I'm presenting it as how I had seen it in the version that I had when I was at work. I knew it was this special place that I wanted to build, but in order to get there, I had to take people on the journey," he says of the creation process as almost an epiphany, not as a detailed construction. He explains that for him this is a living place, one that will continue after this EP and into his promised first album.
"Tonight, everyone is going to be at the Golden Lounge." Immediately, the venue choice in all its rich colors comes back into the frame of mind, "This is the first time people are coming to the Golden Bar, that's in Brownsville. When I thought of this concept, there had to be office buildings because I have to talk about my experience in corporate America. There has to be a church there because I have to talk about my experience in church. There has to be a club, the Golden Lounge, and then there has to be the courthouse because I have to talk about politics and what's going on in the real world." There is a comforting honesty in the reality that binds his music; it grounds the work and expands its relevance beyond the personal: "This is just the beginning, and this EP is the soundtrack of Brownsville. My album's gotta come out; it could come from each of the songs. It could come from 'Golden,' which is true pop, or it could come from 'Welcome to Brownsville,' or 'Oceans.' Uplifting album."
Reality forms the foundation of this imagined town; it is the plans, the architecture, and the construction. This is not a cowardly escape; it's an invitation to introspection with safety and community, and of course, great music. "That's what I want Brownsville to be. Like a Culture Club. Because for me, Brownsville is what the church is supposed to be. All inclusive, all about love, all about respecting each other's opinions and every single human's story. I feel like that's the community and the environment that I want to be in, where we are helping each other." If reality is the foundation of the town, perhaps we can understand community as the soil or water that sustains it. Songs like "Better Man" make it clear this isn't a project of one man; it's the collaboration of whoever finds it and needs it. "You can't move forward just by yourself. You can only go so far by yourself. That's what this is about. Once you've done all the work that you could do, you need someone else to take you to that next level. We all need that extra push from someone once we've exhausted all of our options. It's up to your friend, your neighbor, your family member to say, 'Hey, I got you, let's get you to this next level.' So yeah, it's all about community and helping each other."
Maybe it's the church background, maybe it's his disposition, but he is a person who creates for care, not ego. That much was clear in our talks. With this project, he calls for all of us to find a home in Brownsville to live in, explore, and commune. It's a welcome escape from the world we live in, a place of solace where you can be sure of two things: great music and great people.
We end with my favourite question: what do you want to be asked? "When people listen to the records, especially 'I Found You,' they can ask me where this all came from. That is a question I would like, because to me "I Found You" is very personal. But you don't have to ask me!" he chuckles out. Though I would, as the EP is out, very much encourage you to listen and ask.
We finished as he’s called out to sound check.
