Hailing from Vermont doesn’t necessarily get a lot of respect in the music world, but being the son of Bob Gruen, one of the most well known music photographers, certainly does. Bob has captured everyone from Dylan and Lennon to The Pistols and The Clash. He witnessed the birth of rock and the slow demise and got it on film. So how exactly do you follow in those footsteps? You don’t. So you play guitar instead.
Part of It All, Kris Gruen’s sophomore release, begins as a bright Sunday morning skipping through a park on a relaxing summer day. The sun is shining high and the only thing weighing you down is a tote full of smiles. You prance through the grass, sing with the birds, and hang out under trees. But when you finally get lost in the tired imagery and can’t remember how to get home, the day becomes a trying task of survival. You need a sense of direction to find where you want to go, which is exactly what Kris Gruen seems to be missing on this album.
The minimal instrumentation is too often not enough, the harmonies appear far out of place, and the moments that seem fairly strong and likeable, are hardly worth waiting for. Harshness aside, I would be slightly curious as to how these songs might sound in a more intimate atmosphere. Perhaps, a dark coffee bar or a lonely Subway car, but any place to instill the raw thought of realism back into this material. Because on record, the songs just seem too empty. Ultimately, Part of It All is a ripe synecdoche that never quite decides what it is a part of.