When I was 22, I went to my first National Association of Campus Activities (NACA) conference in Baltimore, MD. More than anything else, NACA has probably altered my career choices and I can talk for hours about it, which I often do. But for those unfamiliar with it, NACA is basically a convention where college student activities delegates meet and book entertainers (musicians, comedians, wacky hand wax guys, etc.)

At this particular convention, I showed up knowing almost nothing about the process. I was way out of my element–Manute Bol was booking motivational speeches a few feet away from me–and I mainly tried to get students to listen to my songs on a discman. One of the best parts about NACA was meeting other musicians and building relationships with people who were trying to do the same thing. And one of those artists was Brian Webb who had a roving showcase where you play songs without any amplification in the hallways and hope that somebody will listen to you. I was taken aback at first and I talked his then-manager into giving me a copy of his CD Broken Folk.

I booked more shows than this guy!

After I left the conference I was glowing. Somehow I booked enough shows to pay my rent for a few months and buy me some time to keep playing music. This was the first moment I ever thought I could seriously build a career as a performer. As I drove back from Baltimore to Washington, DC, I put in Brian Webb’s CD and the first thought I had was “Oh. Shit.” If unsigned artists were putting out records like this, I was going to have to get WAY better, and FAST.

The album starts with his song “Shame” which became a staple on most mixes I made that year. It’s as earnest as anything I’ve heard, and with the light vocal cracks as he sings “It’s not about you now,” it’s more vulnerable than most artists allow themselves to be. Other tracks like “She Was Honest” and “Martha” tell stories as compelling as their melodies. There are dark tracks on Broken Folk like the waltz “Wrestle the Ground” and “Bigger than I Am” which build and go exactly where you hope they will. “Long Way to Go” is as soulful as it is catchy. And “Talk to You” describes the need for a personal anchor, a feeling so many artists share, in a way far better than I ever could.

To call Broken Folk one of my favorite independent albums is an understatement. It’s one of my favorite albums ever period. I wish more people would hear it. That records like this can slip under the radar speaks volumes to just how difficult building a career making music can be. But at the same time, knowing that seemingly obscure records like this can influence people as much as this one did me makes me hopeful that mine can have impacts I don’t know about.

If you want to give Broken Folk a listen, you can download it on iTunes or pick up a copy from CDBaby. Or better yet, if you live near New York, Brian and I are playing a show this Thursday, August 11 at Caffe Vivaldi in Greenwich Village (32 Jones Street, off Bleecker near 7th Ave). He goes on at 7:30 and I can’t wait to hear him.