Digney Fignus has always occupied that shaggy backroom where punk ethos meets Americana craftsmanship. On Black and Blue: The Brick Hill Sessions, the Cape Cod bard revisits the protest-songbook-with-a-smirk he’s been writing in since he ditched The Spikes’ sneer for a Telecaster and truth-telling. This time, he’s bruised, but unbowed—flashing his scars with humor, wit, and just enough hope to keep the music rolling.
Songs for Cynics Who Still Believe in People
This is an album that plays like an open letter to anyone still checking the news without throwing their phone. “Black and Blue,” the title cut, might be the finest song Fignus has penned since “The Girl with the Curious Hand.” It’s a dirge for the disillusioned that never collapses into despair, thanks to a chorus that invites collective endurance—“Hold on, we’re gonna make it through.” If that sounds like platitude, it’s not; it’s strategy.
The man knows how to make social commentary hum without hectoring. “The News” is the album’s musical cousin to The Daily Show, reggae-rubbed with an exasperated groove and a line about Nero that sticks. “An Ordinary Day” gives us eco-collapse and political rot, sure, but it also gives us gospel harmonies and the tiniest glimmer of revolution. Fignus is well aware that humor is a defense mechanism. So is songwriting.
Barroom Rockers and Benevolent Satire
Fignus still knows how to boogie—and thankfully, he doesn’t think that’s beneath him. “Nowhere Boogie” and “Ain’t No Horse” are barn-burners that recall John Hiatt on a whiskey bender. “She’s Good Lookin’” and “Skinny Minnie” work the rockabilly angle like Chuck Berry after a Cape Cod clambake—slick, silly, and full of libido.
If those feel like novelty numbers, that’s the point. Fignus uses charm like a crowbar: to loosen up your ears before he slips in the deeper stuff. “Tell Me You Love Me” is straight-up vulnerability wrapped in doo-wop chord changes, and it works because Digney plays it as if masculinity doesn’t mean stoicism. A rarity.
The Emperor Is Buck Naked, and Digney’s Pointing
Lead single “The Emperor Wears No Clothes” is the album’s rosetta stone. Over a mandolin-led groove and spoon-slapped percussion, Fignus skewers the transparent lies of power in a nursery rhyme gone rogue. The satire here is folk-funk, the protest filtered through absurdity, the point made by laughing so you don’t cry. It’s not revolutionary, but it’s smart, sharp, and sneakily infectious.
The Verdict
Black and Blue is a post-everything Americana record that acknowledges the wreckage and still finds room for rock and roll, roots music, and a little redemption. Digney Fignus isn’t reinventing the genre, but he’s refining it with each release. And at a time when too many artists are playing to algorithms, here’s a guy playing to his conscience—and yours.
You’ll come for the grooves. You’ll stay for the lyrics. And if you’re lucky, you’ll leave a little less cynical.
Choice Cuts: “Black and Blue,” “The News,” “Tell Me You Love Me,” “The Emperor Wears No Clothes,” “Nowhere Boogie”
Duds: None, unless you hate fun
Pro Tip: File next to John Prine, Todd Snider, and anyone who ever taught truth with a grin.
–Bobby Chrisman
