ROAD WORK AHEAD
Promising musician forging a career the old-fashioned way
Marc Broussard had planned to spend Mardi Gras in Carencro, partying with some buddies aboard a converted truck-trailer in his Cajun country hometown's only parade. He and his acoustic guitar would supply the soundtrack for their collective merriment.
Instead, Fat Tuesday will find Broussard and bassist Calvin Turner somewhere between South Carolina and New York, slogging through the second week of a month-long club tour. Missing Mardi Gras is "a first, and a very disappointing first," Broussard said this week from a stop in Starkville, Miss. "I was going to chill out, maybe jam a little bit on the float, have some fun. But work calls, so..."
This will not be the last, nor the most severe, sacrifice required of Broussard if he continues on the career path that is choosing him as much as he is choosing it. "Buzz" is a music industry commodity, and Broussard is banking plenty of it these days.
His eight-song debut CD, "Momentary Setback," demonstrates why. At 21, his voice is soulful beyond its years. His songwriting, while still maturing, shows promise. And he has a habit of meeting the right people at the right time.
Broussard's family boasts a rich musical pedigree. His guitarist father Ted gigged with the Boogie Kings and other southwest Louisiana bands; he also plays on "Momentary Setback." His grandfather Albert was a musician, as are assorted uncles, aunts and cousins.
The Broussard family stereo spun Marvin Gaye, George Benson, Wes Montgomery and Otis Redding, influences that seeped into Marc's music. He first sang onstage with his father at 5, then picked up a guitar at 11.
In middle school, he was so obsessed with contemporary R&B hitmaker Brian McKnight that friends dubbed him "Brian McWhite." "I know every song he's ever sang," Broussard said. "I was always open to every style of music that was out there."
A college music scholarship was a possibility, but he didn't relish the idea of required, non-music classes. Instead, he hooked up with a hard rock band called Y, which he describes as "Creed with a better lead singer, Sevendust with a positive message." Y, he wholeheartedly believed, would be his ticket to the big time.
"I was really, really, really into that band," Broussard said. "My heart was really into the project."
But Y broke up. A disillusioned Broussard went into a "meltdown phase, a hiatus." He quit music, split with his longtime girlfriend and spent months losing one day job after another. So poor was his work ethic, he notes, that "I was even fired from a volunteer position."
Sulking in his New Iberia apartment, wondering how to make rent, he considered joining the Air Force, mostly because of the signing bonus. "I wasn't miserable that I wasn't playing music -- I was miserable, period," Broussard said. "I wanted a change of pace."
Then Ross duPre, a friend of Broussard's oldest brother, confronted him. DuPre had heard Broussard's voice in a church youth band. With your talent, duPre told Broussard, you have no business not singing. DuPre managed a band called Strawboss and invited Broussard to open a show.
His first gig as a solo singer/songwriter went well, so Broussard booked another. At that second show, in January 2002, he met Leah Simon, the business partner of respected alternative radio promoter Del Williams. Simon had arrived too late to hear Broussard play, so he sat down on a curb outside the club and knocked off three songs for her on an acoustic guitar. She was smitten.
A month later, Simon's connections scored Broussard a string of auditions in Los Angeles. He found himself singing for DreamWorks principal Lenny Waronker and other record label heads in their offices.
All were enthusiastic, Broussard said, but none offered a deal. Perhaps they weren't quite sure what to do with a white kid from rural Louisiana whose wail of a voice falls somewhere between Joe Cocker's and Brian McKnight's.
Her faith in Broussard unshaken, Simon formed her own independent label, Ripley Records, to promote him. He recorded "Momentary Setback" for Ripley at a Lafayette studio last year. The slick, eight-song sampler is his de facto audition tape, ranging from acoustic pop to contemporary R&B, from rock to soul. Programmed beats on "Blue Jeans" and elsewhere attest to the McKnight factor.
"It's schizophrenic at times, but refreshingly schizophrenic," Broussard said. "What we did with the record was showcase everything that I was capable of, stylistically. That raised some eyebrows."
Last fall, Simon sent a copy to Brickwall Management, the New York firm that guides John Mayer and Martin Sexton, among others. Brickwall's Rishon Blumberg flew down to a Broussard Halloween gig in Lafayette, then signed on as manager.
Four months later, Broussard and his team are considering a contract offer from Island/Def Jam, even as a national publicist drums up interest in his tour. He has no guarantees of stardom or even a subsistence career, but Broussard, confident even for a 21-year-old, likes his chances.
"For an unsigned artist, we're doing really well," he said. "We've sold over 4,000 records since September. Now we have options. If we don't see the right deal in place now, then we'll just wait until it becomes more of a priority.
"I feel like I've been blessed to be in the company of so many wonderfully professional people who have showed me how to survive and be successful and still maintain integrity. The next year is going to be really fun, getting out in front of as many people as I can, creating real, legitimate fans, just doing my thing.
"I'm trying to be the best there is."
Marc Broussard opens for Maroon 5 and Ingram Hill at The Parish of the House of Blues on Saturday.
Marc Broussard plays Saturday at The Parish of the House of Blues.
Keith Spera/February 21, 2003
The Times-Picayune