How singer Rose Gray’s tug-of-war with the music industry helped her find her voice
Welcome to CHEW THE FAT WITH…, our long-form profile series where we invite you to sit down with fashion’s next generation as they dig deep into their memories. To chew some fat - defined as an informal conversation brimming with small talk - we encourage you to pull up a chair and take a big old bite as we spill the tea on the life and work of the industry’s need-to-knows. Just remember to mop up after yourself.
In a time where the world is screeching to a halting standstill; ROSE GRAY’S very own glitter-ball of a universe has defied all odds and taken off. Big time. In that sense, the 24-year-old singer-songwriter’s raving ascent to superstardom over the last two months has been somewhat of an oxymoron. Albeit in a fabulous light at the end of the tunnel, Clara Amfo’s Radio 1 tune of the week, three record deals on the table sort of way. So, while many are close to giving up in the face of adversity, the self-proclaimed party animal and electric personality that is Rose Gray – between a flurry of rapid tests – continues to bounce into the studio.
Gray chats to us over Zoom about keeping sane in lockdown from her childhood home in East London’s Bow. “I must say it’s definitely fading,” she laughs, dislodging a twist of her dusty blonde hair from her updo. Her sunny disposition is immediately infectious. “This sounds very strange, but I actually really enjoyed the first lockdown. I felt so creative! I'm finding it a lot harder now. I need to live a little bit in order to write. There was a time back in Autumn where I was writing a song a day which was intense.”
Credit: FREDDIE STISTED
Despite the obvious misconceptions that her debut mixtape, Dancing, Drinking, Talking, Thinking, must be a tongue-in-cheek jibe at the twenty-somethings missing out on clubs, pubs and everything in-between– “I keep thinking this, like we're all in the prime of our lives” – her mixtape's title was actually self-inspired by 2019 single, High Again. “The chorus goes: ‘dance, drink, talk, think’. I’ve always loved that little phrase. I did think that when the mixtape came out, we would all be dancing,” she explains. But instead of hearing one of her tunes drop in a sweaty club with her closest friends, Gray first listened to hit single Save Your Tears blasted over the radio in the lonely backseat of an Uber.
EB: Did you tell the Uber driver that was your song playing?
RG: Yeah, I did [laughing]. So sad. I was like to myself, ‘don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it!’ I had to tell him.
EB: Did he care?
RG: He did not give a shit. I don’t think he really liked the tune [laughing].
In spite of her cheerful character and tangibly kind demeanour (her chosen superpower would be healing – “I wish I could help people”); Gray’s career trajectory hasn’t exactly been obstacle free. It’s upsetting to say her story’s been written about before. But it has, so many times and in so many iterations that it’s starting to become an industry parable. Hers is the classic tale of a young female musician promised the world by the industry’s bullish gatekeepers, but only at a detrimental cost. “When I was young, I dropped out of college, and I sort of fell into a record deal. I feel like I was so naive, and just being pushed into being a pop star…don’t get me wrong I think I'm a pop star now,” she laughs. “It was really about the way I looked. I was being given songs; I wasn't really writing my own stuff.” Luckily, she managed to wangle her way out of that suffocating contract, take a well-deserved break from the industry, and realise that becoming an independent artist was the only choice she had if she wanted to do things her own way. She used that time to hone her craft. Gray refined her intricate and innate sense for lyricism and revisited her earliest musical inspirations: the ‘90s, neo-soul, and jazz. “I definitely rebelled against the mould that I was being put in. And it feels good to just be doing what I wanna be doing now,” she continues.
How did this tug of war with her artistic identity change her attitude to the music industry? “I just make sure I have the right people around me,” she smiles. “People chat so much rubbish! I've really had to work hard. It’s been a constant hustle for years. And it's quite mad, it's only in the last two months that I’ve been like, wow it’s actually paying off.” It seems Gray most definitely got the last laugh, and thrice over – if you’re counting. “I've now had three record deals offered to me. I can start to actually think okay...maybe I can’t buy a house just yet, but I can start to save money. I’ve always worked lots of other jobs. It’s the first time I’ve started feeling like this is really gonna work out.”
Perhaps it’s relentlessly putting two fingers up to anyone trying to pre-package her soulful sound into a monotonous ready meal that makes her so likeable. Or perhaps it’s a by-product of her undeniable gumption, that proves hard work and grit is equally important as natural talent on the long road to success. Most likely, it’s a mix of the two. Either way, the world has started to listen – and her growing mob of fans are about as eclectic as they come. “When I was played on Radio 1, I had a lot of people who used to rave in the '90s send me messages saying, ‘I love this tune!’” she exclaims. “I was always a bit worried that people who actually lived through the ‘90s would think I’m just ripping it off. But so far, I think they've really accepted it and been like, ‘GO ON GIRLLL!’” Her least surprising fans are of course the young women and teenage girls who relate to her heartfelt lyrics, that continually tap into the tumultuous experience of simply being a twenty-something woman.
RG: I’ve had lots of young girls DM me saying they can relate to my lyrics.
EB: That’s great. How do you navigate the blurred lines between keeping certain stuff in your private life and what you put out in the public sphere as an artist
RG: It is hard. I went through something over summer and oh my god I don’t know…it’s scary to think of some of the things I’ve written since then. What if I get back together with that person and they hear this music? But I do think as a songwriter it’s my job to be as honest as I can possibly be.
It’s safe to say Rose Gray’s frank candour is making her Gen Z’s unexpected agony aunt, and Gen X’s unforeseen gateway to the grungy raves of their youth. So if she could go back in time and give herself one piece of advice, what would it be? “You’re not gonna make it when you’re 17,” she muses. But in the end, this has been Gray's saving grace. It’s the singer's hiccups and heartbreaks that make her music so undeniably universal. After all, no catchy pop melody is more addictive than a stark, stirring display of human vulnerability. Who else can claim old school ‘90s ravers and lovelorn teenage girls as mutually exclusive fans?
Credit: FREDDIE STISTED