David Gray has always had a way of turning quiet observation into musical revelation, and with Gold in a Brass Age, he’s trading in linear storytelling for something a little more impressionistic. “I was trying to get away from narrative,” he tells me. “Just because it’s become predictable, going hard at the song. I’m looking for other ways to get the thing opening.”
The album, released as Gray hit the big 5-0, has its roots in nature, time, and what he calls “a need to recharge.” And no, that’s not just metaphysical musing from a man in linen. “Walking out into the wild is my ultimate way of release,” he says. “I like to get in rhythm with something that isn’t business or work or humans.”
But don’t let the meditative tone fool you. He’s not blind to the climate crisis or our talent for ignoring it. “It’s deeply disturbing—our capacity to ignore what’s so obvious,” he says. “These reports have been coming out for decades.” Gold in a Brass Age may be his response: a lush, layered soundscape that feels rooted in the Earth and floating above it at the same time. He even credits Steve Reich as a sonic influence, noting the title track uses tremolo in a way that nods to Music for 18 Musicians. “You listen to a Reich piece like looking out of a train window,” he says, “rather than stepping out to touch it.”
The songwriting shift isn’t just about mood—it's process. “I’ve been dismantling my solo writing for years,” he explains, citing a creative unspooling that started as far back as Life in Slow Motion. “The sound tells a story… the music creates the landscape, and the words are just a character that walks into it.”
And then there’s that other album. You know the one. The one with Babylon and Sail Away and This Year’s Love. The one he still can’t outrun, even 20 years later. “It was a fairytale,” he says of White Ladder. “We made it with virtually nothing, and that was a key part of it.” He’s well aware it has not one, not two, but three anniversaries, depending on which country you’re in. “It was released in Ireland in ’98, the UK in ’99, and the U.S. in 2000,” he laughs. “It’s a moveable feast.”
Gray plans to commemorate White Ladder live—eventually—but don’t expect museum pieces. “I’ve evolved the songs. I’ve slowed them down, changed their shape. I have to. Otherwise, I can’t stay emotionally connected to them.” And yet, he concedes, “Some of them just perform themselves.”
As for Gold in a Brass Age, it’s not just another chapter—it’s a reset. “It was such a joyous experience making this record,” he says. “I’ve rarely enjoyed making music as much as I did on this.”
Which might explain why, even after decades of evolution and reinvention, David Gray still sounds like he’s just getting started.
Listen to the interview above and then check out the videos below.
