Local music profile: Graveljaw Keaton 

• Haley Hoover
• Graveljaw Keaton

Graveljaw Keaton is literally a one-of-a-kind artist. For starters, he's a one-man operation, a fluent yet fastidious guitarist adept at creating atmospheric instrumentals flush with ambiance and intrigue—an ambient blend of finely layered groove and gravitas. Born Keaton Stewart, he took the name Graveljaw because, as he explained, "I wanted something with an outlaw, bluesman vibe—something gritty and evocative. I wanted to avoid the typical solo artist names like 'The Keaton Stewart Experience' and go instead for something more in the spirit of Howlin' Wolf, Mississippi Fred McDowell or even Billy the Kid."

The name "Graveljaw" actually came from a song by Pinebreaker, a band to which one of his friends belonged. "They have a track titled 'Graveljaw,' and for some reason, that name always stuck with me," Keaton said. "It had the raw, distinctive feel I was looking for, so I adopted it as 'Graveljaw Keaton.'"

While he's been in the local scene for over a decade, Keaton made the evolution from playing in a group to taking a solo route. He's also felt the freedom to make new music.

"I've been in recording studios since I was a preteen, starting out at Mike's Music in Rexburg, Idaho with my oldest childhood friend, Kooper Hanosky, the guitarist of Citizen Soldier," he related.

Not surprisingly then, his focus is almost entirely on original material.

"I do include a few tribute versions and reimagined takes on well-known songs to add a familiar touch," he noted. "I also like to weave in recognizable melodies here and there to catch the audience's ear. Currently, my set includes unique versions of 'Message in a Bottle' (The Police), 'Polly' (Nirvana), 'Buddy Holly' (Weezer) and 'With or Without You' (U2). Interestingly, some of my originals often remind people of artists like Jimi Hendrix or The Rolling Stones. Since I don't sing, audiences sometimes compare my sound to those acts, which I take as a great compliment."

Until recently, Keaton's concerts have been close to home. "I make my living playing regular gigs at local spots and venues like Slackwater, Gracie's, MTN West Cider, Café Galleria, ABG's, Boomerangs and others," he explained. "I also get opportunities to open for friends' bands, such as Royal Bliss, which is always a great experience. ... While I love exploring new places, I'm proud to be Utah-born and raised, and I still reside here, so it's natural to play most often where I live. I like to think my sound reflects Utah's spirit. I even lightheartedly call my style 'working man's jazz'—a nod to real Utah jazz."

It's hardly surprising that, when asked about the local scene, Keaton offers an enthusiastic response.

"Salt Lake City has an abundance of incredible bands and musicians, many of whom I've come to know and admire," he says. "The scene is constantly growing and improving, and I've said for years that Salt Lake City has the potential to become the next Seattle—if only more venues and promoters and fans would actively support local music."

That, he continued, has become an obstacle needing to be overcome.

"One challenge here is that many people won't attend a local show unless a friend is in the band," Keaton said. "The talent is absolutely out there; it just requires people to put down their phones and truly engage.

"Making a living as a musician in Utah can be tough, which is why so many great artists end up leaving to pursue opportunities elsewhere. I've managed to make it work by taking the gigs others often pass on and performing solo. It's not easy, but for those who stick with it, there's a lot of potential in this scene."

Happily then, the reactions he's gotten from his audiences have been generally positive. "It's a mix of curiosity, surprise and misunderstanding, but also deep appreciation," he reports. "One of the most common comments is, 'Oh, he doesn't sing?' Some people don't realize I can hear their remarks while performing, but I pick up on everything."

Other elements can also cause confusion. "Some assume I'm not playing live because they're unfamiliar with how a loop pedal works," he noted. "Others joke about my choice of setup, like the 'grandma chair and lamp' I bring for a cozy vibe. I've even heard comments suggesting I must be autistic or handicapped because of how focused I am when I play, or because I sit down during performances. In reality, I play for two to three hours in settings where I'm often background noise, so a stadium-style performance doesn't fit the environment. I also tend to close my eyes and get lost in the music, which has led some to think I might be blind!"

Despite those occasional misconceptions, Keaton said he's pleased with the reaction he gets overall. "The applause can be scarce, especially in Utah, where about 80% of my performances don't receive much outward feedback," he allows. "That can make it hard to gauge how the audience is feeling in the moment. That said, when people do connect with my music, it's incredibly rewarding. I've had people come up to me in tears, saying my music reminded them of a lost loved one or brought them a comfort they desperately needed. Those moments make all the challenges worthwhile—light and dark, yin and yang, pros and cons."

Instagram: @graveljawkeaton