by Kris Handel
Brittle Brian is the nom de plume of Philadelphia musician Victoria Rose who has a handful of LP and EP's under the moniker. Biodiesel, her third full length, is full of wavering and creaky folk with an intensity that you can feel in your bones. Brittle Brian songs are often trips into some fragile situation or world that can be as frightening as they are gorgeous and often times prove to have hidden wonders inside that reveal themselves slowly with every listen. Rose's vulnerability and searching ways are always ultra-compelling and the willingness to be open creates even more intimacy between the artist and audience. She manages to bring an inventive and unique musical approach to her work that tends to absorb everything around it, probing into the quiet moments of unease in an often unrelenting fashion.
"The Trout Drive" has a little circular guitar pattern running through it with piercing runs interweaving with Rose's humming vocal breaks, bordering on hypnotic. Her guitar flows and changes tones with slight hesitations followed by creative and twisting continuations and variations of the early patterns creating a hazy minimalist psychedelia. "Mystery Old Time" features Rose accompanying herself with slowly strummed guitar and a wobbling keyboard interjection for her to recite some abstract lyrics. The feel here is that of a relaxed dream like appearance but there is something murky and disconcerting thats very hard to shake laying under everything on the exterior.
Brittle Brian hits their peak when songs become more confessional rather than knotty and obscured (though those songs hit with a great power as well) and that is readily apparent with tracks like "Hell Times One" and "Franklin Park". "Hell Times One" is full of crunching guitar and Rose's vocals that wobble from higher register to a restrained slightly disheartened and removed approach adding texture and depth. The shuffling ramshackle tact of the song truly draws the listener in and the ability to switch tones with such a bare accompaniment is striking and admirable. "Franklin Park" is one of the most vulnerable moments on the record with Rose's simultaneously soaring and clipped vocals swooping registers between syllables. She opens up her feelings in a strikingly direct style that devastates with every word of internal aching and confusion espoused.
With Biodiesel, Rose has put together what is likely her most hesitantly assured collection of songs that lay out a wobbly world, full of heart and charming idiosyncrasies. Brittle Brian's music is full of little stops and starts and moments of pause and reflection that are much like the ripples on the surface of water. Their ability to play with emotions within themself is stunning and on full display on each of these tracks, with as many highs as there are crushing lows, making for a wholly thrilling listen. There is a fragility to everything these songs encompass and it's something that is ever endearing with quite a bit to take away from each precious moment before it disappears.