Gilbert Neal

Gilbert Neal is a multi-instrumentalist and songwriter with a uniquely imaginative multi-genre style that’s refreshingly difficult to categorize. 

Born in Buffalo, NY, and currently based in North Carolina, Gilbert Neal has performed in various bands, jazz ensembles, and theater productions throughout the years. However, Gilbert is, first and foremost, a songwriter, with most of his lyrics being quite personal, telling a specific story or referring to a particular incident in an extremely eventful life. 

Thematically, Gilbert is inspired by religion, politics, sex, loss, and parental love. His sometimes quirky songs can be tongue-in-cheek, theatrical, and somewhat socialist, frequently weaving in sexual and godless messages in the lyrics. Each album is a cohesive (if not linear) piece of work. Each track stands on its own, but each album captures a distinct, complete dynamic. Hard to define. Impossible to resist. 

Gilbert has been writing and singing in bands since he was 12. From an early age, it never occurred to him not to be able to play and sing at the same time, write harmonies, and arrange music. His most recent musical outputs incorporate pieces of all of his various musical experiences which include jazz, funk, soul, and prog rock, often with a healthy sprinkle of Musical Theater. (He served as Musical Director for a Buffalo theater group and has a degree in vocal performance/music theory.)

Gilbert has been inspired by an eclectic mix of musicians ranging from XTC and Stevie Wonder to Steely Dan, Radiohead, The Free Design, and the Les Humphries Singers.  

He was signed to the Wampus label in 2016. “The Mayor of Estes Park” was released that Summer.  2020 saw the release of his most recent album, “Mistakes of Memory”. His discography includes “Drink The Beast With Me” (2006), “Our Deepest Apathy…” (2008), “Vultures and Diamonds” (2010), and “Dirty Red Pagan” (2013). 

After releasing four albums independently, Neal created his 2016 Wampus debut, The Mayor of Estes Park, by raising every bar, from songwriting to performance to arrangements. From existential funk to plaintive wit to loopy joy, he grabbed with hooks and grooves, pranks and koans. Swinging from the mainstream to the fringe, he was earnestly sincere one minute and brutally sardonic the next.

Then, in an epoch of budding cultural collapse, he issued the bittersweet and unsparing follow-up, Mistakes of Memory. Relying on his mastery of musical theatre and zeal for classic prog, Neal crafted a narrative of longing and disconnection, a timeless pop curio that recalled nothing so much as the adventurousness of ‘70s rock. Yet the funky and mordant “Claudius,” a parable of American leadership circa 2020, placed Mistakes firmly in the glare of its moment, and positioned Neal as an artist to watch amid chaos and change.

Now, in the wake of a pandemic that waxes and wanes but never quite vacates, Neal delivers the provocative and bitingly personal I’ll See You When I See You,  an obliquely passionate salvo that feels alien yet warmly familiar. On one level, it maps the dissolution of a (virtual? long-distance?) romantic entanglement. On another, it explores the mystery and dread suddenly framing the global perception of Russian culture.

As always, Neal refracts the depth and diversity of his influences: Leonard Cohen, Pink Floyd, ELO, Stevie Wonder, Steely Dan, Stephen Sondheim.

“All my albums touch on religion, sex, age, and hope,” he says. “I treat them all like musicals.”

I’ll See You When I See You comes out May 20, 2022.