jason mraz

Even as Jason Mraz was topping the charts and traveling the world, his Nanny Razz playfully pestered him to write something she could share with her church friends. “Whenever I made music, she asked, ‘Is it gospel? When are you going to make me a gospel album?’” he says. It was a running joke of sorts, but Mraz loved his grandma, so he finally gave in. “I made her a gospel album.”

Grandma’s Gospel Favorites is out May 8th via Interrabang/BMG, but the molasses-sweet collection of 10 covers and originals has been in the works for decades now — since Mraz was a kid in Appalachian Virginia in uncomfortable shoes and crisp khakis, sitting beside Nanny Razz in church as she sang hymns in florals on the polished church pews.

“I spent all my weekends with her in my youth,” says Mraz, whose parents divorced when he was young. “She was a fun lady, a jokester, a great cook, supportive of arts and creativity — music and playing outside and eating from the garden, all things that I am today.” She also took him to church on Sunday, which he didn’t enjoy as much. Young Mraz was more into Aerosmith than the Apostles, but he loved the camaraderie of those days, going out for meals after church and humming along to Ray Stevens and George Jones in Nanny Razz’s car. It didn’t hurt that he got to sing in church, which was as close to a gig as he was going to get in those days.

Mraz’s career took off like the titular rocket in his debut, 2002’s Waiting for My Rocket to Come, racking up GRAMMYs and accolades along the way, but he still kept returning to Nanny Razz’s kitchen. So, while he was working on his third record, 2008’s We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things., he decided to apply the new skills he was learning in the studio to a special gift for both his church-going grandmothers. Teaming up with pals Andy Powers (guitarist and President, CEO, and Chief Guitar Designer of Taylor Guitars), bassist Ian Sheridan, violinist/violist Ray Suen, and vocalists Noel “Toca” Rivera and Gregory Page for those fan-favorite harmonies, Mraz recorded a suite of gospel classics, presenting the record to his grandmother for Christmas. “She just broke down crying,” Mraz recalls. “Then she immediately asked if there was more than one copy, because she was definitely going to have to share this with all of her friends at church.”

Jason Mraz press photo in black and white

Nanny Razz passed away in 2014, but, as the years went by, Mraz realized she wanted him to share that music with the world — after all, she asked him to make 75 copies of it over the years. So, after releasing the bubbly, bright Mystical Magical Rhythmical Radical Ride in 2023, it felt like time to bring that sepia-toned, sweet gospel to the public.

The record opens with the twangy cover of Ray Stevens’ “Turn Your Radio On,” a song Mraz heard often during after-church car rides. “It’s a beautiful way to say, ‘Open your mind and receive the offerings of this spirit,’ whatever that looks like,” he says.

The quirky Johnny Cash tune, “Daddy Sang Bass,” follows, an appeal to his grandmother’s funny bone, leading into the honeyed “It’s No Secret” (Stuart Hamblen). And then there’s the cheeky original “Peach Pie,” about Mraz’s battle with the squirrels laying siege to his fruit tree. “My grandmother taught me to love your enemies, even if they’re squirrels. Feed them, lend an open heart and an open hand. There's always a place for everyone at the table.”

Jason Mraz holding a guitar in front of a blue background

Jim Reeves’ “Evening Prayer,” a favorite of his other grandmother, Nanny Powell, slides in next, followed by classic hymn “His Eye Is on the Sparrow,” which Mraz fell in love with after seeing it performed by Lauryn Hill and Tanya Blount in Sister Act II. And then there’s George Bennard’s softly swinging, “Old Rugged Cross,” which Mraz sees as a song of comfort and faith for those facing the end of their lives, along with Reeves’ “Never Grow Old.” The inquisitive, sadly poignant “When We Die (You Are Loved)” is another original, which Mraz wrote for his aunt — Nanny Razz’s daughter — who died in 2011. At his family’s request, the song was played at his aunt’s memorial.

The record closes, then, bright and sweet with “God Be With You (Til We Meet Again),” an echo from those church days of his youth, where his grandmother and her friends would use that phrase like hello, goodbye, and see you soon — a promise of days to come. Because that’s what religion is to Mraz, really. He doesn’t conform to one or the other, but he sees the way it can bring people together, to bind them, to keep them in our hearts.

“In the end, I believe in music,” he says. “Music is a spiritual practice — like prayer — it’s language, intention, repetition, and heart.”