To me, Stoecklein is a gem that accidentally fell into a Cracker Jacks box. I bought the Blue Things album at a cut out bin in the late 60’s mistakenly thinking of The Pretty Things, which a friend had recommended. The album became one of my staples — a collection of many contradictory genres: garage, psychedelic, folk, and pop ballad (some schmaltzy, some moving — “I Can’t Have Yesterday” is Gene Clark-ish). I think if I had heard “Grey Life” before the Blue Things, I wouldn’t have been impressed either. Grossly overproduced by Ray Ruff for Dot, the songs are marred by schlocky instrumentation and backing vocals. While Gene Clark’s genius shines through on his solo recordings, Stoecklein’s genius is hidden by the syrupy surfaces of “Grey Life” and his other post-Blue Things work.

For example: in 1971, Ruff recruited Stoecklein to help with “Truth of Truths,” an atrocious Christian rock opera (with Jim Backus as God!). Val, who was not religious, penned five of the songs. “David to Bathsheba,”a heartbreaking, tragic love song, focuses on David’s sense of loss and fear of God’s wrath at his earthly love, with an unintentionally spooky / funny backup chorus that sounds like the Ray Conniff Singers on depressants. At its heart, the song (both the composition and the lead vocal) is as despairing as music can be, but nobody involved seemed to notice. Nowadays, we take this kind of darkness for granted in indie music.

Stoecklein committed suicide after unsuccessfully promoting a collection of his songs in Nashville, but a surviving relative has been planning a release of these demos. The unadorned, elegant, poignant samples on Bandcamp hint at the promise that “Grey Life” failed to achieve because of its saccharine coating. Until it’s released, Val Stoecklein’s life will seem as tragic as his songs.