B-Side Guys

In an era where authenticity is often manufactured and vulnerability comes with a hashtag, Brock Davis’s “Everyday Miracle” arrives like a well-worn flannel shirt in a sea of fast fashion. This Santa Cruz troubadour, armed with an acoustic guitar and a voice that sounds like it’s been marinated in equal parts whiskey and empathy, offers up 13 tracks of what he self-deprecatingly calls “agnostic gospel.” It’s a term that perfectly encapsulates the album’s ethos – a search for meaning in a world that often seems devoid of it.

Recorded in Nashville’s Backstage Studio with a band of session virtuosos who’ve backed everyone from Bob Seger to Blake Shelton, “Everyday Miracle” could have easily veered into slick, radio-ready territory. Instead, Davis and Grammy-winning engineer Zach Allen have crafted an album that feels like eavesdropping on a late-night jam session where the musicians forgot they were being recorded. The result is a collection of songs that sound lived-in and loved, like a favorite pair of boots you can’t bring yourself to throw away.

The title track sets the tone, a modern country ode to the mundane that somehow manages to make loading the dishwasher sound like a spiritual experience. It’s as if Davis took a page from Raymond Carver’s short stories and set it to a melody that would make Jason Isbell nod in approval. When he sings “There’s a promise in these chords / There must be something more,” you can almost see him squinting at the horizon, searching for meaning in the glow of a neon beer sign.

“Rain Falling On The Water” emerges as the album’s centerpiece, a slow-burning epic that builds from fingerpicked introspection to a full-on gospel choir explosion. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to call your estranged siblings and apologize for whatever it was you did at Thanksgiving dinner five years ago. The refrain “We are rain falling on the water, coming home again” feels less like a lyric and more like a mantra for the existentially adrift.

Not content with mere personal reflection, Davis wades into societal issues with “It Just Takes One,” a #MeToo anthem that somehow blends The Police’s rhythmic tension with pedal steel guitar. It’s an unlikely combination that works better than it has any right to, much like pineapple on pizza or socks with sandals. The fact that Davis wrote this based on his wife’s experiences adds a layer of intimacy to a topic that’s often discussed in broad strokes.

The album takes a turn for the unabashedly romantic with “Angela (Please Say Yes)” and “My Promise To You,” a pair of love songs that could easily soundtrack a thousand first dances at weddings across the heartland. In less capable hands, these tracks might veer into saccharine territory, but Davis’s gruff sincerity keeps them grounded. When he barely makes it through the first line of his proposal song before crying, you can’t help but root for the guy.

“The Warrior,” inspired by a photograph of an old mustang, showcases Davis’s knack for finding profound meaning in the seemingly mundane. It’s a folk-rock meditation on resilience that feels particularly poignant coming from an artist who took a hiatus from music to raise a family. The song serves as a reminder that sometimes, the most heroic acts are the ones that go unsung.

Throughout the album, Davis’s lyrics paint vivid pictures with an economy of words that would make Hemingway proud. It’s this attention to detail that elevates “Everyday Miracle” from a collection of well-crafted songs to something approaching a short story collection set to music.

In a musical landscape often dominated by either navel-gazing indie rock or bombastic pop, Davis carves out a niche that feels both timeless and timely. His brand of Americana isn’t content to simply rehash the glories of a mythical past; instead, it grapples with the complexities of the present while maintaining a cautious optimism about the future.

The production throughout “Everyday Miracle” strikes a delicate balance between polish and grit. Allen’s touch is evident in the way each instrument occupies its own space in the mix, but there’s an organic quality to the recordings that keeps things from feeling too pristine. It’s as if the ghosts of Nashville’s storied recording history are hovering just at the edges of each track, nodding in approval.

As the final notes of the album fade, you’re left with the sense that you’ve just spent 43 minutes in the company of a guy who’s read Kerouac, worshipped Springsteen, and come out the other side with a wisdom that can only be earned through lived experience. In an age of instant gratification, Brock Davis reminds us that sometimes, the real miracles are the ones we’ve been overlooking all along.

“Everyday Miracle” isn’t just a continuation of the success Davis found with “A Song Waiting To Be Sung”; it’s an evolution. Where his previous work earned him comparisons to storytelling legends, this album feels like Davis is no longer content to simply follow in their footsteps. Instead, he’s blazing his own trail, armed with nothing but an acoustic guitar and a belief in the transformative power of a well-crafted song.

In the end, “Everyday Miracle” lives up to its title. It’s an album that finds the sacred in the profane, the extraordinary in the ordinary. Davis has created a work that serves as both a mirror and a window – reflecting our own experiences back at us while offering glimpses into lives we might never otherwise encounter. In doing so, he’s crafted something truly miraculous: an album that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable.

As we await the July 26 release, it’s clear that Brock Davis is an artist hitting his stride. “Everyday Miracle” promises to be more than just another entry in the Americana canon; it’s shaping up to be a defining statement from an artist who’s finally ready to claim his place in the pantheon of great American songwriters. And in a world that often feels devoid of magic, that might be the greatest miracle of all.