In a Restrained Exhibit, David Gray Paints With Neutral Colors

Pop music styles are a bit like boomerangs. We may toss one away after it falls from fashion, but the chances are it’ll eventually sail back to us.

There’s the return in recent years of the psychedelic rocker in Lenny Kravitz, the sensitive poet in the Counting Crows and, now, the mainstream pop-rock troubadour in David Gray, whose “White Ladder” album has just passed the 1 million sales mark.

Before an enthusiastic, sold-out crowd Friday at the Universal Amphitheatre, the lyric-conscious Gray moved between the slick craft of Billy Joel (in his weaker moments) and the more soulful, everyman touch of the early, folk-edged Elton John (in his most rewarding).

Unfortunately, the Englishman’s name is all too accurate a description of the primary color in his musical palette. There may have been red, blue, gold and white spotlights shining on him at one point Friday, but his musical strains were almost all variations of gray. Even his matching denim jacket and pants were a drab shade of denim.

This understated approach works well enough in the limited space of Gray’s new album because the restraint contributes to a valuable dramatic tension in such songs as “Babylon.” In that winning tune, oddly enough, he uses colors in the lyrics to describe a sudden exhilaration: “I’m running wild and all the lights are changing red to green.”

There are other songs on the album that also come alive musically, including “Please Forgive Me,” a rollicking statement of infatuation, and “We’re Not Right,” a reflection on alcohol abuse.

When stretched over almost two hours live, however, the appealing elements in Gray’s music were undercut by a generally anonymous tone that became wearisome.

Backed by a three-piece band, Gray twisted his head from side to side aggressively as he sang, making each tune seem somehow essential. But the music and/or lyrics were so uneventful generally that you got the feeling you could switch elements from one song to another without changing things materially. The themes deal with grand questions of longing and self-esteem, but the insight and imagination are often minimal.

Even when Gray did a version of Soft Cell’s “Say Hello Wave Goodbye,” the enchanting synth-pop tune was turned into another colorless offering.

Gray’s sudden pop stardom comes after nearly a decade of frustrating struggle. To bring us up to date, he played some songs from the earlier albums Friday, but they didn’t offer a convincing case that the previous work deserved all that much attention.

By contrast, Nelly Furtado, the evening’s opening act, is a wonderfully talented newcomer whose music is gloriously awash in bright colors. Drawing from hip-hop, pop, R&B; and even Portuguese influences, she and her six-piece band (including a DJ and two percussionists) offered a fresh, modern sound that was both kinetic and embracing.

Furtado, a Canadian singer-songwriter who is in her early 20s, does, however, tend to rely too much on bright colors. On Friday, she seemed so intent on keeping things moving--pacing constantly and even scatting nervously while adjusting the microphone stand--that she failed to maximize the emotional heart in some of the songs, including the wistful radio hit “I’m Like a Bird.”

If she could trade some of her bright colors for a trace of the intimacy of the headliner’s moody gray, they’d both be better off.