Credits: Joshua Boydston
Norman native Brine Webb’s debut album, “O You, Stone Changeling,” wasn’t a lifelong process, but it was pretty damn close.
“It’s taken forever to do. It’s obscene,” Webb said. “For basically my entire adult life, I’ve been working on this project that should have taken six months … I was squandering all my time. That’s why it took so long: I was just being stupid. I quit drinking and, without being too heavy, started figuring out how to piece some sort of life together and realized I had been putting everything off. I finally said, ‘I’m just going to do this.’”
He’s too hard on himself, all things considered. True, the album had been in the works for nearly seven years, but Webb didn’t start writing songs until college. He began to perform them alongside fellow songwriter and roommate Ryan Lindsey around 2005. The interim has been filled with school and being a bassist for hire with the likes of Aranda, Beau Jennings, Graham Colton and Matt Stansberry.
Vulnerable to burnout with constant performances, Webb finally plugged the five-year collection of tunes together for the disc’s long-awaited release last month. Although critical of the content, Webb is happy with one thing.
“I’m proud of how accurate a picture it is of what I was doing. It’s a picture of me trying to figure out what I was supposed to give a shit about. I can see myself having struggles, some dumb girl that wasn’t into me. Who cares? Those songs are old, but I still have the same problems,” he said. “Still don’t know what to give a shit about ... I do know most of the things on that list aren’t it.”
The work smacks with authenticity, but none of the pretension, both musically and lyrically speaking, all while translating his depression, introspection and confusion. Webb wasn’t afraid of self-deprecation, either, making the record’s mood all the more genuine.
“The only thing that I can think of that makes me worth having around artistically would be honesty,” he said. “Not that nobody is being honest, but I decided at one point that I had to be really straight and brutally honest with myself, even embarrassing myself at times. It can be humiliating stuff. When I think about it, I’m singing the songs in front of the person it’s about ... and her boyfriend.”
Webb plans on the span between now and the next record being dramatically decreased, perhaps two years or so.
He’s aiming toward being more prolific, and as he approaches his 30s, getting older and leaving a legacy has become a daily struggle.
“I’m not grotesquely naive. I’m probably not going to make it,” he said with a laugh. “I’m not worried about writing the next big hit or anything like that. When I’m old, I just want there to be a collection of stuff that I made, and doing this certainly seems more significant than journaling.”