Metro Pulse/Music/Brandy Robinson

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What:
Brandy Robinson

When:
Saturday, July 19, 3p.m.(Leukemia benefit) and Wednesday, July 23, 9:30 p.m. (CD release party)

Where:
Charlie Pepper's on the Strip and Preservation Pub, respectively

Cost:
Donation and free, respectively

Local folk-funk artist Brandy Robinson and her band are on a roll, and she dares you to try stopping them.

by Leslie Wylie

It's Tuesday, open mic night at Barley's. The next round of aspiring musicians ambles toward the stage, stepping up before the jury of a few dozen local barflies. As the singer brushes a wayward dreadlock behind her ear and squints at the audience, you think, "Great, it's Jewelanis Morrisette. Just what the world needs—another girl with a guitar, PMS and a bunch of confessional chick songs that nobody wants to hear."

Then the girl opens her mouth to sing, and suddenly your question "Can I close my tab?" gets messed up in subconscious translation, and comes out instead as "Who the hell is she?"

"She" is Brandy Robinson, a 23-year-old musician who defies the overcooked girl-with-a-guitar cliché, along with political evil, corporate encroachment, etc., etc., with her irreverent approach to music. As she picks through intricate patterns with her guitar, Robinson's voice purrs across lyrics that ponder the highs and woes of life in suburban America.

The born-again local returned to Knoxville a couple of months ago after four years of sporadic travel, an experience that she says opened her eyes to life beyond the shadow of the Sunsphere.

"I came back here because I really believe in 'think globally, act locally'—just kind of saying that if those big cities can have activism, why can't smaller cities? Music is just a platform for me to not only say my politics that I believe in but also to talk about experiences in life that I have," Robinson says.

Most recently she stationed herself in Boston, a city whose music scene she believed would "literally kick my ass in gear." There, she was befriended by a world/reggae band by the name of Lovewhip with whom she would later tour and also begin recording an album, Gypsy Queen, on her own label, Guitar Mama Records.

Robinson explains that the decision to release her work independently was only natural.

"I've never ever in my life liked authority, never liked somebody that had something over me or who took anything away from me. And you see a lot of people who get signed by labels and then all of a sudden their music isn't their music anymore; it's the record label's."

After returning to Knoxville with the album in hand, Robinson focused on assembling a band that would bring a plural aspect to her standard solo performances. She contacted bassist Mike Murphy and drummer Richard Davis, friends she had performed with in the past, and the dynamics of their different personalities began coming through in live performance, complimenting her own. In addition to the occasional bar gig, they began playing out at Barley's weekly open mics to increasingly appreciative crowds.

"So many crazy things have happened in the last couple months as far as my music goes," Robinson says. "I've gotten a really good response here. It's kind of like big fish in a small pond, I guess. People are really starting to know my name."

In conversation or on stage, Robinson's outspoken confidence and sense of social consciousness are evident. Her convictions seem unshakable, particularly when she gets going on the topic of government—she sighs an apology, "Sorry. I'm just so pissed off at what's going on in the world right now, I could talk on and on about it." But she emphasizes that she is not out to shove political ideology down listeners' throats but rather to use her voice for something positive.

"With my music, I go about writing my lyrics so that even if it's a political song, I try to be very poetic in the way that I do it," she says. "So maybe we're coming from completely different views, but you can still turn your head and be like, 'Well, wait a minute. Maybe that's something I overlooked. Let me think about that for a second.'"

Upcoming plans for the band concentrate on getting its music out via CDs and live performance and heading out on tour later in the summer. Other than that, Robinson is content to be back in Knoxville, forging her own way through the local music scene. It may be slow, unglamorous work, but she claims that it's far preferable to other options.

Robinson laughs. "Since American Idol has come out, no kidding, about 50 people have told me, 'You should be on American Idol. I just smile and say, 'I play my own music.'"