Rediscover:
Baby Gramps
Same Ol’ Timeously
2003
Rediscover is a series of reviews highlighting past releases that have flown under the radar and now deserve a second look.
In the world of underground music, there are cult heroes, and then there is Baby Gramps. Until he appeared on “The Late Show with David Letterman” in 2006 to promote the Rogue’s Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, and Chanteys compilation, even many of the most well-versed fans of obscure musical acts (those of us outside Gramps’ habitual Pacific Northwest stomping grounds, at least) remained unaware of this bizarre and gifted performer. For viewers who first witnessed Gramps that night on Letterman, it wasn’t just an eye opener; it was the type of audio-visual mind fuck that sends the brain’s gray matter into a state of frenzy and tricks the mind into believing it’s entered the land of dreams long before sleep has actually arrived. Looking like a cross between a hastily cleaned-up pirate, a Bleeker Street hobo and an ancient soothsayer washed ashore from some distant, magical land, Gramps picked and throat-growled his way through a spirited “Cape Cod Girls,” delivering one of the more surreal moments in the history of late night television. I half-expected him to disappear in a cloud of smoke before a bemused Letterman could offer his obligatory handshake.
Although this digital, privacy-depleted age has turned the lives of even the most enigmatic artists into open books, Gramps largely remains clouded in mystery, folklore and hyperbole. By his own admission, he deals in exaggeration for a living (check out the Spectrum Culture interview with him for more on this), so it’s no surprise that it’s been said that Gramps was in attendance when Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil at the crossroads, that he regretfully leaves a pack of reindeer at home when he tours and that’s he’s never performed the same song twice. What’s known about Gramps is this: For over 45 years, whether on street corners, in bars, during festivals or occasionally on the grand stage (he’s opened for Phish and Bela Fleck, among others), the musician has been transcending the realm of urban myth and proving himself as a unique artist and performer. Despite an extensive catalog of singular approaches to traditional tunes that could constitute a Great American Songbook, Gramps has released only three official records (not including compilations), and none before 2003. One of those albums, Same Ol’ Timeously, remains one of music’s rarest endeavors: a fun, witty record that can be enjoyed by listeners of any age and from multiple musical persuasions.
Gramps’ voice has been compared to Popeye, a Didgeridoo and Ned from “South Park.” Although none of these comparisons could be called inaccurate, Gramps demonstrates a varied vocal range throughout Same Ol’ Timeously, alternating between wheezing like a pack of preternatural honey bees, croaking like a human-frog amalgamation and barking in a weathered voice that makes any singer short of Tom Waits sound pubescent. Classifying Gramps’ style into a specific genre is completely unfeasible, but it’s fair to say that this record finds him effortlessly reinventing Deep South (“St. James Infirmary”), ragtime (“Shake It ‘n Break It”), blues (“James Alley Blues”) and folk (“Teddy Bear’s Picnic”) standards, along with the occasional children’s song (“Medley of Heartwarming Worm Songs”), laborer’s lament (“Big Rock Candy Mountain”) or autobiographical narrative (“How I Found My Teddy Bear”) thrown in for good measure. Each song is delivered to a clearly captivated live audience, whom Gramps frequently engages to sing along, repeat lines and even, on the engaging opening track “Nothin’ but a Nothin’,” offer up their best exaggerated mock laughter.
Listening to Gramps perform is like taking an interactive tour through America’s musical heritage, from the first generation of recordings in the 1920s to the folk ballads of the Great Depression to the jazz and blues-infected Southern folklore that followed.
Yet Gramps’ abilities as a wordsmith are what really drive this album. His colorful use of univocalic verse on “Uncontrovertible Facts” is, well, pretty goddamn hilarious. Perhaps the album’s most admired and audience-requested track, “Palindromes,” features Gramps reciting some of his most off-the-wall bits of mirrored wordplay (“Tarzan raised a Desi Arnaz rat” and “Ho hum, a hymn is in my ham – uh oh!” are among the biggest crowd pleasers here). Even if the old-timey musical approaches Gramps takes won’t appeal to all listeners, it’s impossible to deny the merits of his vocal antics and clever – albeit silly – word schemes.
Because of Gramps’ inimitable throat growling and linguistic playfulness, it’s easy to forget that he’s also an exceptional steel guitar player who finger picks, flat picks and sometimes chords his guitar with the back of his hand or elbow – all peculiar methods that one must witness live to get the complete Gramps experience. Same Ol’ Timeously may not offer a complete picture of Gramps, but it at least captures a brief glimpse of this one-of-a-kind storyteller and musician at work. For those of us who may never have the chance to see the charismatic Gramps live and in person, Same Ol’ Timeously is just enough to get us by, entertain our imaginations and fascinate our senses time and again.
by Marcus David
