Artist

Jane Gray

Origin: U.S.A
Listen on Coda
A name as ordinary as Jane Gray might strike some as too unremarkable to belong to an actual person, yet several performers have carried it, among them a Christian music artist and a singer in a Montana children’s choir during the 1970s. The Jane Gray who achieved the widest recognition in the record industry, however, never existed at all. That name belonged to more than two dozen sides issued on the Harmony label and became linked to the song “Five Foot Two Eyes of Blue”; it was merely one of many aliases used by Peggy English, who also recorded as Peggy Britten, Harlem Hannah, and Lillie Daltry.

In the earliest decades of commercial recording, the practice of issuing material under multiple pseudonyms was widespread, driven by the era’s patchwork distribution networks and contractual arrangements. Gray’s numerous identities stand out even within that climate, and collectors have sometimes treated her Harmony output as a discrete body of work, unearthing the discs from stacks of used 78s. Because later researchers left the biographical entries for Jane Gray blank, the fiction of a separate performer persisted, leading enthusiasts to suppose that an artist of that name had simply vanished from memory on account of her commonplace surname.

Her recorded performances offer the clearest clues to her identity and milieu. She was frequently supported by pianist Rube Bloom and at times worked with the University Six, whose trombonist on one occasion was Tommy Dorsey. Song titles themselves often played on the Gray surname—“Looking at the World Through Rose Colored Glasses” and “Hello Bluebird” among them—while other numbers such as “I’m Tellin’ the Birds, I’m Tellin’ the Bees” and the straightforward “Say It Again” invoked the natural world or simple exhortations. Optimistic sentiment surfaced in “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright,” and regional novelty pieces of the period appeared in “Hoosier Sweetheart” and “There Ain’t No Land Like Dixieland to Me.” Among all the sides issued under the name, the most singular remains the suggestive “I’ve Never Seen a Straight Banana.” A playful remark sometimes directed at devotees of 1920s vocal recordings asks, “Is that a straight banana in your pocket or just a Jane Gray record?”