Do you suppose the title is a play on that fem-lit blockbuster 50 Shades Of Grey? You know, white/why. J's always been sly like that. It's not all acoustic, but no rhythm section. Any lexicographer could tell you the words that appear most are still 'I don't know'. The songs are top notch. Try sticking a pin between 'em, you can't. Being this good 30 years into your career, in the '60s they'd chop off your hands. Could any other pain feel this good? I don't know. We'd have to ask mr. Grey.
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