By Barrett White
Steve Grand was riding the effervescent high of 2015’s All-American Boy when he realized that introspection would be the key to his follow-up. The country-pop aesthetic of his freshman album had him pegged by the media as America’s newest gay country icon, but Grand demurred. Though he considers himself a fan of country music, he doesn’t think of himself as a country artist. “Music is subjective,” Grand says. “That is part of the whole point. The lines of life are blurring…we are seeing that in music, as well as in sexuality and gender identity. For me, it’s all about the song, and a good song can take the shape of many different genres depending on who is singing it or how it is produced.”
I first spoke with Grand in 2015 as he prepared for his appearance at Houston’s Diana Foundation awards ceremony. He was excited to talk about his self-funded album and shyly told me that I was the first person to know that he’d recently shaved his head. In spite of the work he had already done as a model and club singer, he was remarkably guarded, kind, and timid. But by the 2018 release of his sophomore album, not the end of me, and his congruent Provincetown summer residency, Grand’s public persona is dominant to say the least.
These days, he’s a self-assured, witty pop composer who takes delight in introducing boozy Northeastern vacationers to his fascinating range, aided by a Hollywood face and a body that could outshine Adonis. His residency is half standards and half original works, with a track list that is now expanded with his new release.
The new album explores life after heartbreak. Grand admits that his own post-split phase of bacchanalia and loss of control inspired the power ballad tear-jerker “Don’t Let the Light In.” “This album is autobiographical; very personal, somber, and reflective. Writing this album was an exercise in catharsis,” he says. “I’m more unfiltered on this album and explore some of the internal and external challenges I’ve faced over the last few years.” Beyond his trials, the record offers optimism. “There’s also a real sense of hope on this record. I really hope people come away with that resilience, even though it’s pretty dark sometimes.”
Like his first album, not the end of me is mostly self-produced, with Grand taking the reigns as sole songwriter and composer for the whole project—he even built the studio the record was recorded in by hand in his basement.
Every aspect of the album is personal for Grand and he’s uploaded visuals to his official site and YouTube. “It’s a lot of old footage of me growing up in the early nineties; it’s very warm and nostalgic…it’s very emotionally-charged footage for me, but I wanted it to feel that way for people who didn’t have my childhood. It’s hitting a sweet spot with people,” Grand explains.
The upbringing that inspired him—idyllic suburban Americana in a Chicago suburb—simultaneously explains and flies in the face of all the confidence and strength displayed in his present repertoire. His performative nature was always there (he was inspired by Peanuts’ Schroeder to learn piano as a child), but navigating LGBTQ culture in a Polish-Catholic family is not something that comes with a guide. “I really had a great childhood where I was able to explore and create. Things started to get difficult for me when I hit adolescence and noticed that I was different and it dawned on me that that difference was that I’m gay. We really couldn’t come to terms with it and accept it until I was 18,” Grand says, detailing the years of growth, exploration, and eventual unity that his family found. “Now we’re stronger than ever.” Lucky for us, Grand has moved past the blood sport of new fame, instead offering to reflect on his history to explore his own vulnerability.
not the end of me can be found on iTunes, Amazon, and anywhere you stream music.Steve Grand can be found on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. More information on his summer residency at the Provincetown Art House can be found here.
