Photo courtesy of Brandt Parke

It’s April 29th, 2002. Mega-boy-band NSYNC played the last show of its Celebrity Tour last night. Shortly, the band will announce a hiatus that would never see an end, resulting in the breakup of JC Chasez, Joey Fatone, Chris Kirkpatrick, Lance Bass, and Justin Timberlake. Teenage girls everywhere are crying; the entertainment industry is at a loss. Fatone goes on to co-star in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, Bass and Chasez both have a host of less-than-lauded acting appearances, and Kirkpatrick fades into the ether of once-loved idols.

And, on November 25th, 2002, Justin Timberlake releases “Cry Me a River.” It won the GRAMMY for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance and, arguably, solidified Timberlake as more than just a member of a boy band — as a true musician — and set the path for his sophomore project, the highly-acclaimed FutureSex/LoveSounds.

Whatever happened between April 29th and November 25th, 2002, must have been magic. Brandt Parke’s A Walk in the Parke feels like that magic.

Parke, guitarist of Tacoma rock outfit Mister Master, has ventured out on his own with the release of A Walk in the Parke, a six-track, acoustic, blues rock EP, with vocals sung by Michael Parent. A relative departure from the fuller, fuzzier sound of the Mister Master sound, the softness of the masterfully titled A Walk in the Parke comes as a bit of a surprise from a grunge-esque guitarist, but it serves to highlight Parke’s chops as a truly soulful power player in this music scene.

The EP opens with “Blue As Hell,” a funking-fresh blues jam. The track comes in with an intricate guitar plucking pattern that sounds as easy to play for Parke as a kazoo. As soon as Parent’s vocal comes in, about 20 seconds into the track — “I know that you wane and wander” — it’s impossible not to throw on some stank face and get into that motherfucking groove. Because, damn, it’s a groove.

“Wash Away,” track two, is softer than “Blue as Hell,” not quite as funky, but still well written. It conjures up pictures of a then-21-year-old Timberlake sitting in his room, messing around with his guitar, searching for that soul he has inside of him that massive amounts of screaming 10-year-olds just weren’t ready for. One of the less compelling tracks — perhaps just because of its placement next to the first song, the best track by far — this tune sounds like the blues trying to escape through an Eve 6 song. It’s interesting and fun, but the softness is suddenly striking.

Track three, “Mind Align (Time to Dance),” follows the same laid-back trajectory as “Wash Away,” but with more of the magical timbre of Parent’s voice. When Parent hits those higher notes, especially, something clicks. You can hear it — like Timberlake — Parent, and Parke alike, just get it. Parke’s a musician that wraps himself expertly around his craft, and, even if the songs themselves aren’t incredibly compelling, the musicality heard in every note of both the vocals (written by Parke) and guitar parts draws you in, like there’s some bigger secret to uncover.

The next tune, “All is On,” feels more in the pocket. As opposed to the previous two tracks, which seem a little lost in their softness — like Parke wants to go further but somehow decided not to — “All is On” sounds more purposefully reserved. Parent tells a story of slowly gaining the courage to put yourself on the line simply through the tone in his voice, not just the lyrics. When the bridge rolls around, Parent’s voice builds, and, even though the lyrics are inherently trite (“you’re the calm, and I am the storm”), the earnestness with which he croons makes it sound like those words have never been put together before.

“Runnin Round The Mountain” closes out the vocal portion of the album and harkens back to the upbeat energy of “Blue as Hell.” In the chorus, Parent sings, “well, I’m runnin’ round the mountain / and it turns out, the mountain is me.” The whole album holds this quirky kind of lyricism — it doesn’t quite make sense, but we still get it, and that’s the sign of a true storyteller. Turning the images in your head into consumable pieces for the listener is no easy task. Parke certainly has his own language, but I’m buying the Rosetta Stone.

Instrumental track “Unwind” closes the album with a lilting lullaby that truly feels like you’re going on a walk through the Parke. It’s nothing incredibly exciting, but it’s a sweet piece that puts a cap on the project, sort of like Parke is saying, “thanks for listening. This is Brandt Parke, signing off.”

While this is a pleasant enough ending, it would be interesting to see how the album would change if a track with the energy of “Blue as Hell,” closed it. The middle section of A Walk in the Parke is well-written, fun to listen to, and enticing, but also somewhat sleepy, especially because all the tracks share the same general instrumentation of guitar, tambourine, and shaker. Where Parke really shines is with those belted-out soulful grooves, carving out a space for Parent’s voice in the landscape of a song and throwing down on the rhythm guitar.

Whatever the case, I’m blasting “Blue as Hell” whenever I just need a damn good song to listen to.

In the making of A Walk in the Parke, Parke worked with several artists to create distinct album art for each song. View each piece, with artistic direction and tentacle-words from Erik Mickelsen, below.