It’s another great lost album, except that it was actually released on a major, only to go unheard by the masses, shelved into the cut-out discount bins of rock history. It sounds like a glorious musical message that was beamed from the past forward, to be praised and adored in the future like so many other obscure Power-Pop gems. It was made during a time when big labels would sign a fantastic new act only to lose interest a year later when there was either an A&R firing or a Board shake up or a sales disappointment, the act ceremoniously dumped. This album didn’t sell well, received paltry promotion from Epic, which caused the band to immediately implode. The Grays only existed for two years, only played a hand-full of shows, and employed four great songwriters who could swap instruments as well as write classic Pop-Rock originals filtered through a contemporary filter. They were almost too good for their own…good. They formed around a mutual love of The Zombies: guitarist Jason Falkner fresh from the break-ups of two criminally underrated psychedelic bands, The Three O’Clock and Jellyfish, while Jon Brion was an LA wonderkind producer from The Bats and Til Tuesday. Together with Buddy Judge and Dan McCarroll, they started a bidding war between labels before ever playing live, based on their credentials as well as their succinctly flawless songs. The boxes were all clicked, the talent as well as ambition was in place. They should have been HUGE, right? Instead, they created one damn fine moment in time and bailed.
“Very Best Years” is one of my favorite songs of the 1990’s, point fucking blank. It’s a near perfect modern rock moment, Jason’s vocals and guitar work is bright shining sterling silver stunning. What a way to open an album! “Same Thing” has trade-off vocal lines wrapped around a gorgeous melodic chorus, the long silent break in the middle building such cool tension before a chiming guitar solo sweeps things back to the verse. Producer Jack Joseph Puig admitted to liking Jason’s tunes more than any of the others’, causing both band tensions as well as a project leaning heavy on Falkner’s tracks, “Friends of Mine” and “Oh Well Maybe” both shining examples of his brilliant song-craft as well as lyrical deftness. Not to be in the shadows, Buddy Judge‘s contributions to the album are dead good as well, “Is It Now Yet” the standout dark psychedelic moment on the record. “Oh Well Maybe” sounds like it could be a Shoes outtake circa Present Tense, which is a great thing! Jon Brion’s ballad “Nothing Between Us” builds, and spills, and ebbs, and flows with slow intensity and wit. “Both Belong” has a 70’s singer-songwriter vibe in a new wave sheen, lyrical and harmonious. “Not Long For This World” should have been a single and a hit, especially in 1994! It goes from heavy to smooth, loud/soft/loud; it had the fucking blueprint for a charting rock song from this era, for God’s sake! Jon’s soaring guitar and plaintive vocal a lethal international-pop-overthrow combination. Why someone didn’t see this song as potentially career-making is mind blowing to me. “No One Can Hurt Me” takes things home in a progressive arty fashion, building on a funky bassline, Byrdsian chiming guitars, and cinematic sensibilities. The entire album is a gas to play through as one complete statement, the songs complimenting each other quite well. Do yourself a favor and find one of these for your own. Discogs link below the playlist. Dig…
Dancing in the Moonlight of our Existence 