Brad Tursi

BIOGRAPHY

Full-bodied acoustic guitar, a warm voice and a poured out postcard from the road, “Oh Darlin’ (Intro)” opens a song cycle devoted to a rambler’s life, love from a drifter’s point of view and the way life is beautiful if you’ll take it on its terms. With a voice that’s a little worn, a little warm, Brad Tursi pours out the truth of a man who keeps moving, but never forgets those things that define what a good life should be.

With a resonant electric guitar, probably the dark-headed songwriter’s first true love, Parallel Love seeks to find a connection along the way. Conversational, shuffling in places, ruminative in others, there's a bit of pluck, a little B3 steam, a belief where stripping it all back to simple things is as good as it gets.

Tursi didn’t really know he was making a record. A songwriter by trade, a guitar player by passion, he kept almost a musical sketchbook of places, moments and feelings he experienced along the way. And he also kept his heart on a horizon that harkened back to a time when singer/songwriters mined those things to create those genre-defying, life-defining albums.

“A lotta James Taylor,” he concedes when asked what defines his worldview as an artist. “Mudslide Slim & the Blue Horizon, Sweet Baby James, those albums really shaped me. What he does with the details, the way he creates space for people’s lives, his feelings… It’s not just observational, it pulls you inside all those places. You’re there, in the moment, and you’re there in the emotions without ever being told what or how to feel.”

The slightly spacy rumination on imperfect timing “Question the Universe,” laconic and vibey, the finger-picked acoustic/steel guitar tumble “Afraid To Lose,” measuring the reality of really caring, or the slightly folkie “Where You Been,” with its descending chorus of falling right back in with a good friend all share Tursi’s easy-going way of facing the world. Whether marveling at how things can be so out of phase, or just sharing a cup of coffee and catching up, it’s all good.

“It’s funny. ‘Where’ve You Been’’s been around for so long, I can’t even tell you when I started it. I’ve played that lick so many times, it’s an old friend who’s just always been here.”

That broke-in sense of comfort, whether an old flannel shirt or a favorite pair of jeans permeates Parallel Lines. Beyond pockets you can just fall into, there’s Tursi’s voice: a little gravel, a lot of old friend, you feel good listening to him spin tales and conjure emotions most people miss.

Raised in Connecticut, where he jokes he was a kid rocker who got a Les Paul because of Slash and had a deep dive Stevie Ray Vaughan phase before discovering Jeff Buckley’s Grace, it was Neil Young’s seminal acoustic albums, especially the later Harvest Moon, that anchored his songwriting and aesthetic approach. Along the way, that Les Paul would serve him well, joining the DC-based indie rock/alternative band Army of Me and recording a couple Eps and the Michael “Elvis” Baskette-produced CITIZEN.

It was songwriting that truly had a hold on Tursi’s heart. Leaving the band, he migrated to Nashville with its vibrant creative community. Like so many young writers, he fell into the publishing community’s warren of different creatives – and reconnected with some friends from James Madison University in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. 

“These songs are all born out of moments of wondering, of love, of living my life,” he begins, not quite sure what the fuss is all about. “Well, my life and observations of other people’s lives and situations. ‘Question The Universe’ actually happened to a friend of mine, but I watched it all happen. What started as a couple drinks in a bar and an all night deep dive into some music at my house, well… the girl moved to LA with the other guy, and…”

Making things personal, that’s what the songwriter does so well. With the breezy “Crazy Life,” a handful of “Almost Famous” polaroids that capture a way of life that’s embodied the legendary Sunset Marquis and culminates in the truth “and good girls cry alone,” Tursi unpacks essential truths and the small detail underneath the glossy dream’s illusionary state.

“I’m not very afraid of being vulnerable,” he admits. “You kind of get over that once you start playing in front of people. And as an artist, you want to share those things with people… you want them to feel this music, to get what’s underneath the lyrics as much as what’s said.”

Beyond the three co-written songs, Tursi has self-penned and produced Parallel Love himself. Ever the musician, he recognizes the way that “player always” sensibility informs how he approaches his craft and creativity. He explains, “The feel of a song is almost the last thing on people’s minds, they don’t even think about it. But as a first listen, and I learned this when I was young, that was always what drew me in. The way it felt, that’s what actually attracts you.”

It also levels up and attracts a fascinating coterie of collaborators. Son of Dad Stephen Wilson, Jr and Detroit-born producer Ben West co-wrote the yearning travelogue “Church Bells and Train Whistles,” which West co-produced, and R&B-informed Dan Isbell, from West Tennessee’s river-bottom town of Savannah, teamed with Tursi for the choogling you-do-you, I’ll-do-me and we’ll grow together title track.

“I think the best love is where people have their things, then you come together, you support each other and you bring it all together,” he says of the title track. “That’s when things get really good. You don’t lose any of who you are, but you gain a lot from what someone else brings out in you.”

A student of all kinds of music he loves, a purveyor of hits for others, Parallel Love is all about songs that are completely, absolutely who Brad Tursi is. Now he realizes. “Finding the melodies that connect is the hard stuff, the person that I am and experiences I go from, those things are right here. These songs? They’re from my backporch, from my heart – and they’re small things that are a big deal if you cherish/recognize them.”

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CONTACT

Emily Ginsberg
ginsberg@bighassle.com