Brock Zeman

Brock Zeman

 Ottawa, Ontario, CAN

With nine albums to his name, a few hundred live performances a year and of this before the age of 30 Brock Zeman has made a name for himself as a songwriter's songwriter. Exclaim! magazine says Zeman “is a songwriter worth hearing over and over again,” CKUA hails Zeman’s work as “intelligent, tuneful, heart-felt songs served up with an authentic but understated style” and the KW Record says that “Zeman
doesn’t surrender an inch to any Texas singer/songwriter you care to name. Closer to home,


With nine-albums to his name and a few hundred live performances every year for almost a decade, singer-songwriter Brock Zeman is well-established as one of the Ottawa Valley’s hardest working musicians. All of this before the age of 30. He’s also highly regarded, having earned praise from critics across the country. Exclaim! magazine says Zeman “is a songwriter worth hearing over and over again,” CKUA hails Zeman’s work as “intelligent, tuneful, heart-felt songs served up with an authentic but understated style” and the KW Record says that “Zeman
doesn’t surrender an inch to any Texas singer/songwriter you care to name. Closer to home, he has the chops to join the likes of Fred Eaglesmith on the lonesome outskirts of town after the street lights come on.”

Zeman has also played on stage with some of the top talent of the contemporary roots and Americana scenes, including Steve Earle, Lynn Miles, Fred Eaglesmith, Corb Lund, Toby Keith, Prairie Oyster and the Rodeo Kings, to name a select few. Keith Glass of Prairie Oyster calls him, “an emerging Canadian powerhouse,” while Juno-award winner, Lynn Miles says “he’s a master songwriter…he belongs on stage with the big boys.” By his mid-20s, Zeman signed with Busted Flat Records and had played most major music festivals in the country. So marks the first fine chapter in Zeman’s music trajectory.

The past year has seen Zeman take on new challenges and roles in the music industry and expand his musical horizons. He founded Mud Records, his signature label for releasing new material, including his most recent
album “Me Then You.” But Mud Records also serves as the imprint for showcasing new roots talent handpicked by Zeman. The first release on Zeman’s label was “Nights Take Forever” from singer-songwriter, Robert Larisey who made the Top 50 Artists listing in the Roots Music Report for the recording, while gave it a 4 out of 5 stars. More recently, Mud Records released the debut album by the Brothers Through the Hill, “Adelaide”; the album received a rave review in the Ottawa Citizen, which also added that Zeman “recognizes talent when he
sees it.” Rootstime calls Mud Records “a promising young label.”

Zeman has also stepped away from his guitar for a time and worked behind-the-scenes in the production studio on his most recent album as well as both the Larisey and Brothers Through the Hill releases. Zeman also produced the debut album from renown fantasy author, Charles de
Lindt. He is also planning and producing albums for a small roster of other musical acts to be released on Mud Records in the coming months.


Push Them Stones

Written By: Brock Zeman


The wind's trying to blow on through the front door
The rain sounds like God driving nail's
Sitting and smoking by the candles
All the lights are out in town
No use in trying the T.V.
Guitar hasn't spoke to me in days
Only thing shaking around here are
My hands and the trees outside my window panes

Hand's on the clock they're nailed on
Time wont die it just grins and laughs
Ain't nothing left to do for a poor boy
You gotta push them stones through the hourglass

My ears are aching for some talking
My belly's growling for some heat
My arm's are reaching for a woman
My legs are searching for mainstreet
Guess I could call up Crazy Sandy
She sure can dance good lordy lord
With one hand she'll cure your lonely
And with the other she'll be digging around
In your pocket book

You can go out every evening
And have you a high time big boy
But when your money well runs dry, dry, dry
You'll be paying double for the nights you should've spent at home

Triple Crown

Written By: Brock Zeman


He's got hair to his elbows and snake skin boots
A rebel flag t-shirt and a jailhouse tattoo
He's sucking on a Camel, blowing smoke rings around the moon
He's way south of trendy but man, he's Texas cool
And he's talking to some lady with track marks up her arms
And he smiles like a salesman as he lays on the charm
But she ain't really listening, she just smiles from time to time
The dope in her purse is the only thing on her mind

At The Triple Crown barroom in San Marcos Texas
They've gotta band every night here, even on Christmas
Where the smoke stings your eyes and the beer's always cold
And God called in sick today so anything goes
At The Triple Crown

The guitar player's got a Stetson and a smoke dangling from his lips
And he looks just as greasy as his guitar licks
The prettiest girl in the whole bar asked me what my name was
But the band was so goddamn loud that I never caught hers
But I got her hair in my mouth from screaming in her ear
And it smelled just like cigarettes and her breath smelled like beer
In my mind we got married and I moved to Austin that fall
And she learned every word to every one of my songs

So buddy pick your poison it ain't free but it's close
And there's beans and there's brisket out on the patio
Tear the hands off that clock or shoot it right off the wall
It's been happy hour since I got here how the hell are we getting home
Throw a dollar in the tip jar, wont you buy the band a beer
I'm going looking for that Austin girl with the pretty red hair


Written By: Brock Zeman


It's the end of the world and it's just you and me
I know it might sound crazy but I always knew it would end up this way
The building's were collapsing and the sky was on fire
I said, “there's nothing to be afraid of” and you said, “you're a terrible liar”
You looked like an angel and I prayed you had wings
So I could hitch a ride on up to heaven and try to slip through them pearly gates
Because it's the end of the world and it's just you and me
Any second now that sun will come tumbling like a cannon ball and go out in the sea

You held my hand as the sky ripped in two
Before it all came crashing down you said, “I love you”
And I knew right then that these would be my last words
So I said: kiss me quick baby, it's the end of the world
Kiss me quick baby, it's the end of the world

The rich were drinking martini's on a spaceship to the moon
While the poor pulled out their hair and wrung their hands and waited around for their doom
And god shook his head as his voice shook the sky
He said, “I told you once, it wasn't gonna be water, but fire next time”

The ground started trembling then everything went quiet
I saw that you were crying and so I pulled you in tight
I looked deep into your eyes as I leaned you back
Then I kissed you hard as everything went black


Written By: Brock Zeman

Her Daddy had a shotgun, a temper and a drinking problem
And her Mama had a busted smile, a cotton dress and a black eye
She had a bag of clothes and twenty bucks
The sun was down and her mind was made up
She saw them headlights coming and whispered to herself
Here goes nothing
He had his hair slicked back and whiskey breath
Blood shoot eyes and a pack of cigarettes
He said, "Where you heading" she said, "No clue"
He said, "Well you're in luck Honey, I'm heading there too"
Snake skin boots and a switch blade, a gold money clip getting empty
A short future and a long past, an El Camino and a tank of gas

She had a song singing in her head that says
"I love this town when I'm leaving or left"
To keep from going crazy you gotta get a little wild
I might be young but I ain't no child
We've all gotta foot on the ground and another in the grave
You're either living your life or just taking up space
She ain't sad or sorry and she ain't wrong
She ain't leaving, she's just gone

The gas tank sang a song called empty
He filled it up and then he tossed her the keys
She saw the gun and said, "Whatcha doing anyways?"
He said, "Something you'll remember Honey
When you're old and grey"
But he came out with his hand clenching his chest
And his white t-shirt turning red
Some money in a bag and a case of beer
He said, "Hit the gas Honey, lets get outta here"
She opened a beer took a big gulp
Could barely squeeze a word through the lump in her throat
And all she could think of as she drove away
Was: Jesus Christ, I never even got his name
Then she pulled off down a dirt road
When his breathing stopped and his eyes fell close
She took the money and stuffed it in her pockets
Kissed him on the cheek and started walking

A few days later and a few more towns
She walks into a dinner and quietly sits down
With some of the money she orders up some food
That's when she sees his face on the front page of the news
It said: A man died from a bullet in the chest
After robbing a gas station a few nights back
The lipstick on his cheek says he wasn't alone
But by the time they made the scene she was already gone


Written By: Brock Zeman

Yesterday's news on his finger tips
A blade in his boot and a tremble on his lips
She climbs through his head like ivy on a house
He's trapped in the past and he can't climb out
Whistling a tune in the pouring rain
Using parked cars as walking canes
He knows she ain't never coming back again
Oh my sweet Chanelle

Oh my sweet Chanelle
You've got me wading through a new kinda hell
With you dancing through my mind and a blade for the long nights
Oh my sweet Chanelle

The grape vine is all covered in thorns
The bride wears a halo and the groom has horns
He ain't been living since she walked out
Just getting up and walking around
In his pocket he fingers a wedding ring
As if it'll grant him a wish to bring her back again
But yesterday's news said she found another man
Oh my sweet Chanelle

The razor blade always calls his bluff
He don't feel down when he can't stand up
And God can't hear you behind the gates of hell
And heaven lies in the arms of sweet Chanelle
Now I lay me down to sleep
I give her my heart and my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake
Then I'll just die in a dream
Of my sweet Chanelle