Most of the music world knows Greg Brown as the original guitar player for the band CAKE and the songwriter who penned “The Distance,” one of their most popular songs. But those from the Sacramento music community who knew Greg had much more to say about the impact he had on their lives, in his own unique way. By all accounts, Greg was a very private person—not interested in attention, whether in the media or even among close friends and family. Parts of himself that Brown did share, were often done thru his songwriting and musicianship.
Early Impressions
Gabe Nelson, who later played with Greg in CAKE, remembers his first encounter with the guitarist: “The first time I saw him we must have been 18 or 19. It was at Emile’s birthday party. Greg and Chris Woodhouse and Sean Bollinger were playing a bunch of Led Zeppelin songs, without a singer. Greg was super great, I was really impressed with his playing.”
Nelson described Greg as “a very private guy, he really didn’t have a lot of friends. He wasn’t very social, he kept off to himself. He was a nice guy, very sweet natured, not easy to get to know.” But musically, “Greg was just great. He wrote really interesting parts, especially in songs like ‘Daria’ and ‘Open Book’…I’ve really never known anybody like that except for him.”
A Singular Talent in CAKE’s Early Days
Greg’s time with CAKE proved instrumental to the band’s distinctive sound during their rise to fame in the mid-1990s. His singular approach to guitar playing, arranging, and songwriting helped set CAKE apart on “their own little island during that time of grunge and misery,” as the band Golden Shoulders recalled.
Most notably, Greg wrote “The Distance,” which became the biggest song of 1996 and remains, in the words of his peers, “pretty well inescapable.”
His guitar playing was as unique as a person’s signature—always using his trusty Guild Starfire plugged into an original RAT Pro Co fuzz pedal. Greg would only use the version built in 1985-86; the electronics in later models were different and not to his liking. Many guitarists would try to sound and play like Greg, but nobody had his touch and articulation.
The Deathray Years
After leaving CAKE, Greg formed the indie pop band Deathray with Dana Gumbiner of Little Guilt Shrine. The two began a musical partnership that resulted in two full-length albums and a smattering of singles dripping with inspiration from The Kinks, The Cars, and Syd Barrett. Deathray had a sound both 20 years too late and 20 years too early to become a massive success. But at a time when nothing else sounded like them, Deathray was a breath of fresh air. Creating pop gems like “Happy New Year” and “My Lunatic Friends” that still hold up today, the Deathray catalog is as solid as it gets.
The songwriting combination of Greg and Dana in Deathray was, as longtime friend and collaborator Keara Fallon described it, “magical.” Greg told real stories in his songs through metaphor—paintings that illustrated an interior world. “If you read between the lines, you would really understand the depth of this quiet, reserved man—maybe,” Fallon reflected.
Deathray disbanded in 2007, but the band left a lasting impression on Sacramento’s music scene.
A Mentor and Encourager
Despite his reserved nature, Greg showed up for others in meaningful ways. When the band that would become Golden Shoulders opened for his band Deathray, “he was as encouraging as he could be towards three Nevada City kids who were utterly starstruck and intimidated by him,” recalled Golden Shoulders’ frontman Adam Kline.
Greg went on to co-produce Golden Shoulders’ first album, Let My Burden Be, with former CAKE bandmate Victor Damiani. The collaboration was formative: “Him, the acknowledged genius, and me, not 1/100th the musical talent of the man sitting across from me,” Kline remembered. When a song needed work, Greg sat down and collaborated until they “cracked it.”
David Carl of Radio Cure and other local bands remembered Greg’s generosity: “I went to a couple shows of theirs at G Street Pub and spoke with Greg at length about music and he was always very considerate and answered all of my questions, even the questions about Cake despite it now being a former band that had moved on without him, and he never had any sort of air of superiority or celebrity or anything.”
Even more striking, when Carl invited Greg to a small show at the old Cap Garage, “He showed up! He sat in the small upper seating area, but he definitely had no obligation to be there, and he still was there. I’ll always remember that.”
A Deep Kindness
Jonah Matranga of Onelinedrawing and Far shared: “I literally enjoyed every moment I can remember being around Greg. Whether it was at a show, watching him play guitar like no one I’ve ever seen before or since, or the one dreamy time I got to sing on a song he made, or just hanging out. I think we were both kind of loners, and I always felt good around him. He had a tender sadness that he somehow transmuted into a deep kindness.”
Keara Fallon elaborated on this quality: “Greg felt so deeply about people and experiences that, at times, it could overwhelm him, so he kept a lot of it to himself. Everybody was in awe of Greg Brown’s genius, but what they didn’t realize was his reverence for everybody that was in awe of him. He was so appreciative of what people had done for his career.”
Greg had the utmost respect for his peers, both locally and beyond Sacramento, often speaking about musicians like Chuck Prophet and Xan McCurdy, noting that Xan was “the only possible replacement for him in CAKE.”
Despite his reserved exterior, “Greg had a telepathic connection with his bandmates and close friends—he just knew when to check in. He was an observer, he saw everyone and everything.”
The Mystery Remains
As Fallon put it: “The mystery of Greg Brown: nobody really knew him, except for what he was willing to share.” He was a man of few words who told his life story through images in his writing and emotion in his music.
Last year, Greg released an EP of new material, and there were plans for a full-length solo album made with longtime collaborators.
Greg Brown passed away last week after a brief illness. With this news coming as a surprise to everyone, there are not yet any specific memorial plans, though perhaps there will be a well-deserved tribute show in the future.
His music—from “The Distance” to the Deathray catalog to his recent solo work—remains a testament to a singular talent who left an indelible mark on Sacramento’s music community and beyond.
(Photos courtesy of Keara Fallon.)
