Having suffered a fairly catastrophic computer situation here last weekend, I've had incredibly limited time to listen to music lately and an even more limited range of things to easily play. In the midst of this frustrating, tiresome and starkly tuneless week I received Edward Gray's album. It would have been easy to overlook it in the mess of things to fix and missed deadlines to catch up on, but instead I found myself returning to it again and again. Perhaps because, despite coming late to his music I feel a strange kinship with Edward Gray. For starters "The Old Bending River" is his first release for five years and having spent much of that same period wondering if I was ever really going to get excited about music again, it's easy to draw a parallel with his time in the wilderness. Starting in around 1989, making music largely never far from his Iowa City home, there is a sense of quiet industry against the odds of fierce self-critique here which appeals to me too. The singer-songwriter and self-styled noisician's wayward, outsider spirit is amply illustrated here over the course of eight simply constructed, often humbly short but surprisingly hard-edged compositions.
Opening with "Chafe", Gray's voice is immediately striking. A warm, low burr which draws instant and probably tiresome parallels with Bill Callahan - but Gray manages to be at once more playful and less affected somehow, delivering these curious lyrics with a hint of humour - often of the self-deprecating variety - and a frankness which is incredibly appealing. On occasion, when faced with an impending chorus, Gray manages to soar to cracked, lonesome highs more akin to Mark Eitzel. This voice is allied to a delicate, understated backdrop which marries a swaggering rhythm section to a gentle country backing with beautifully deft licks of pedal steel. Next up "Samson" is a markedly stranger affair, a countrified polka full of lyrical drama. As the tension ramps up towards the conclusion, a violin sweeps in and dances around the song rather mournfully. Considering the simple instrumentation deployed here, the range of approaches Edward's band manages is staggering.
There are points here too, where Gray displays a surprising gentleness of touch in his writing, such as "Away" which couples the simplest of melodies to some affecting, emotive vocals and a chaotic squall of guitar. It's light, easy on the surface listening, but hidden under here is emotionally complex stuff - which still manages to support just the tiniest hint of bitter humour as Gray gruffly observes "you got some brass ones, buddy" with a wry smile before wringing a wonderfully chaotic racket from his guitar. This incredible talent for shifting the mood of a piece around occurs again on the initially playful "Egg Timer Man" which is all pretty straightforward until Gray's vocal dips to a menacing, rumbling whisper to close the track. The versatility of Gray's voice, the dramatic twists and turns in his songwriting and the slick band which backs him all coming into alignment to deliver songs which reward on a scale which belies their humble origins. The album reaches a climax with the tortured, twisted yarn of "Bone" where Edward's voice is paired with a tangled, scratchy guitar line which winds around a sinuous bassline. Occasionally the guitar explodes into life with a tortured howl of melody and noise, before the song returns to it's nagging hypnotic refrain. Toughening into a menacing swagger, the song clocks in somewhere near seven minutes, Gray's voice reaching a pitch of anger and pain before sinking into resignation. This is blistering, visceral music which caught me quite unaware on my first listen. Finally "Cold Cold Man" creeps in with a sinister organ supporting quietly, menacing vocals which invoke Leonard Cohen at his playfully miserable best. Whoops of saxophone add to the atmosphere as the song shudders and stutters towards a riotous conclusion, as Gray begins to bark out the song's title over a bar-room choir of backing vocals.
I'm indebted to Luigi from Almost Halloween Time Records for letting me hear this music as he prepares to painstakingly individually illustrate the lyric sheets of a very limited vinyl edition of this album - and once again, he's picked an incredible record to work on. Playful and surprising, but sometimes discordant and challenging, Edward Gray's work deserves to be far more widely known. This is an accomplished work from a veteran of two decades of self-recording, but who sounds like he's still enjoying every second of it. Long may he continue to do so. I can't urge strongly enough to ensure you get to hear this.
You can purchase "The Old Bending River" from Bandcamp, but I'd recommend that you check out the very limited, hand illustrated vinyl version available from Almost Halloween Time Records. More information, including a fairly extensive back catalogue can be found here.
Edward Gray - Chafe
Lost::MikeGTN
I've had a home on the web for more years than I care to remember, and a few kind souls persuade me it's worth persisting with keeping it updated. This current incarnation of the site is centred around the blog posts which began back in 1999 as 'the daylog' and continued through my travels and tribulations during the following years.
I don't get out and about nearly as much these days, but I do try to record significant events and trips for posterity. You may also have arrived here by following the trail to my former music blog Songs Heard On Fast Trains. That content is preserved here too.
