eastbay express
Winter 2001
The Six Degrees of indie guy Gram LeBron
By Chris Baty
Gram LeBron -- guitarist, drummer, keyboardist, programmer, and singer -- is a man moved by music. Literally. He followed his bandmate in Schrasj (who's also his ex-wife) from Houston to San Francisco three years ago. Once here, he surfed from couch to couch, eventually moving in with pop band the Push Kings. But the Push Kings were on their way to Los Angeles. LeBron decided to go along for the ride.
He lasted three weeks -- just long enough to have his storage space broken into and some of his equipment stolen. The next move, back to the Bay Area, netted him a living space near Lake Merritt with half of Call and Response. And now he's moved again, into a studio apartment affixed to Emeryville's Dance Home Sound Studio.
These many moves, not to mention his work with Schrasj and the label Ojet, have made LeBron into Oakland's Six-Degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon for the indie-rock set. And all the major underground rock stations -- Low, Spoon, Bedhead, Belle & Sebastian -- are connected through Gram LeBron.
As he gets older, though, LeBron has been moving slowly away from his college radio roots. His first solo record, Golden Gram, is a big step in that direction. In the territorial world of indie rock, where CDs can usually be neatly mapped to one of a hundred micro-genres, Golden Gram is a giddy picnic in nowhereland, a one-man show as likely to reference "Walk Like an Egyptian" and Depeche Mode as hipster touchstones like the Velvet Underground or the Feelies.
LeBron's goofy, heartfelt mess of a record, with its dance-beat interludes, makes me happy. And when our conversation gravitates toward growing up and out of indie-dom, it makes me even happier. Because I've been going through some strange changes over the past year -- something that my talk with LeBron and a recent show by Oakland's post-apocalyptic, incredibly energetic, indescribably fun Extra Action Marching Band show brought home in a big way. I think I've just become homicidally sick of my people -- the indoor-scarf-wearing, thriftstore-sweatered, bespectacled, and tenderly shy mass of kids. That whole prepubescent aesthetic among twentysomethings is starting to make me want to hit somebody.
It hasn't bothered me until recently, I swear. It's weird -- the older I get, the wilder I become. I don't think it's supposed to work this way, but when I go out these days, I want screaming and weirdness and dancing. I want things that aren't supposed to catch fire to catch fire. I want costumes and audience participation and, if possible, lots of strangers kissing each other. I want a show, dammit -- not some group of mumbling sadsacks who play their instruments like they're afraid of breaking them.
LeBron can relate.
"I'm totally into independent -- I think it's great," he says, sipping a Budweiser tallboy on the futon couch of his studio apartment. "It's the self-consciousness that gets to me after a while. I understand being shy and all, but it starts to seem like an act."
LeBron admits he still can be found in Converse Jack Purcell sneakers, tight sweaters, and Levi's cords. (Especially the Levi's -- LeBron works for the jeans-maker, and Golden Gram was financed largely by last year's Christmas bonus). But his mumbling days are over.
"This is the first time I'm comfortable with my words," he says of the songs on Golden Gram. "This time I'm like, 'No I want you to hear what I'm saying, I want you to understand.'"
"I've been singing harmony since I was five years old. I sang in a barbershop quartet in high school," LeBron says, grinning. "I was a voice major for a while in college. It started seeming silly to not sing louder and sing out. I can sing pretty well, so I might as well do it."
Tweaking the vocal levels and adding warm layers of harmony on solo home recordings has been fun for LeBron, but he admits he'd be happier if he had someone else to play with. The East Bay, LeBron's found, is a great place to live, but a hard place to find bandmates. In his time here, he's briefly joined forces with Call and Response and Mates of State, but nothing has lasted.
There might be another Christmas bonus on the way, though. This time, LeBron is hoping to burn the CDs himself and make all the music available for download through his Web site, www.goldengram.net. He already has an EP's worth of new songs ready to go. And who knows ... if he can find three other singers and some striped suits, there just might be some cutting-edge barbershop electronica hurtling up the MP3 charts soon. "Just you wait!" LeBron threatens, laughing.
Now that's a show I'd pay to see.
eastbayexpress.com | originally published: December 5, 2001
splendid ezine
Summer 2001
Inside this album's sleeve you'll find a photo of four clay caricatures of musicians in a band. There's something about it -- the way that one is happy go-lucky, while another is stooped depressedly over his bass -- that is absolutely hilarious. It almost justifies the price of the CD on its own. Happily, that's not the only good thing about Gram (Schrasj) Lebron's self-titled solo album; much like the adorable picture described above, his songs take on that sort of unself-conscious caricature feel.
The music, like the lyrics, is modest, lo-fi, catchy, un-epic and quirky. One of my favorite moments is when "How Did You Get Here?" slips into a club-style beat, with Gram whistling over it as if he were just a casual spectator from the country, checking out one of these strange, odd discotheques. The whistling gives to a friendly harmonica played over the same beat, making the song inviting to anyone who's everyone felt alienated by the sound of club music.
In various other indie-centric ways, the album keeps that homey feeling. There's the opener, "Hello", in which a character who seems to be a little indie nerd sings lines like "Hello, won't you come onto me?" and "I'm not much for knowing a lot about everything / but the things I do know I know a lot about." At the same time, some of the songs border on serious topics. There's "Chimes", which, like many of the other songs, sounds disjointed at first but makes sense when you can see the big lyrical picture, and "Brand Mgmt.", which discusses "the man who markets himself..." over a pleasant, whimsical arrangement of acoustic guitars,
light drums and harmonica.
I smile when I listen to Golden Gram -- it's the same sort of feeling evoked by Built to Spill's There's Nothing Wrong With Love, but done in a more folksy way. It gets the listener in touch with that earnest, squeaky little voice that's inside of everyone except for bullies. And, if all else fails, it's fun. -- Josh Kazman
gutlesszine
Summer 2001
Continuing with Bay Area of California, Gram LeBron (formerly of Houston, ex-Schrasj) transplanted himself to Oakland in 1999. His first full-fledged California recording is under the moniker 'Golden Gram'. The self-titled CD is once again on Ojet. It is virtually entirely performed by Gram. The disc starts off with 'Hello', like any new friendship starts, with a greeting. This is certainly lighter and shinier than the noisier Schrasj. Listening to these home-recordings, I can imagine Gram dancing in his loft to the rhythm and bass (plus harmonica in the background!) of 'How Did You Get Here?' and sitting still to the melancholy subdued nature of 'Decidedly Southern'. His relaxed nature shines through. I'm at a loss to compare this to anything else I've heard before.
inainas, napster user
Summer 2001
Golden gram is the music of a great melody. It is likely to take to it. I expect that Golden Gram comes to Japan. Thank you for teaching wonderful web.
Spacelab
Summer 2001
I was quite surprised by this CD! Umm.. what else.. you might notice that I'm not getting any better with writing reviews. I think a lot of people will like this band, Golden Gram. It's basically a one-man band (I think), Gram Lebron, formerly of Schrasj. I guess he lives in Oakland. If you love pop, the kind with poppy acoustic and shakers, or if you like electronic, dancy beats, good ol' indie rock, experimental, and trip hop, you probably would like Golden Gram. I dunno why, so don't ask me, but this album sort of reminded me of Benett's So You're Not Coming Over? if Gram Lebron was a girl. Okay, that's all I have to say. Thank you