There have been more than a few occasions where I’m had to admit I had things wrong, that I’d had preconceptions that had held me back. And many times I’ve been proven wrong in my assumptions. I’m happy to admit it. This is one of those times.
And, whoa, how happy I am to be proved wrong.
In my defence, I’m a person who will give any music its due. Sometimes, I have to be doing something else when I listen to an album I don’t know, to let it infuse itself into my brain like a melodic marinade. This is one such time. I’ve had this album playing while I’ve been doing other things. But each time I’m stopped in my tracks by it.
This could be called Americana, country-folk, or whatever label you care to drop on a style of music. However, like a lot of these labels, it falls short when it comes to Drink Ring Jesus by Stephen Simmons. Listening to this album is like a searing knife through flesh it cuts into a part of me that I can’t begin to describe. The eponymously named opening track literally brought tears to my eyes when I first heard it, and that hasn’t diminished through the several plays I’ve gone through since I first pressed play on Stephen’s Bandcamp page.
And it doesn’t relinquish its hold on you. Before you’re even able to get yourself together, Simmons pushes on. If there was a knife, you’d feel its twist as Time To Pay plays out. I couldn’t wait to get the feelings this record has created in me on to digital paper, such is the effect I’ve felt by this set of tracks, first released in 2006.
A single guitar, a voice and occasional harmonica. It’s stripped back in instrumentation, but it’s loaded with emotion. If I didn’t know better, I’d be worried for Simmons’ own life, but he is actually playing a character who, possibly, is sat on his front porch in rural Tennessee and pondering the decisions that got him here. Seeking solace from Jesus and The Devil and finding himself bereft and exhausted. As he sings on You Give Us:
“Sometimes I get so sick of this life
Sometimes I think I must be losing my mind
Sometimes I wonder why I even still try”
Somehow, Simmons has imparted these feelings of introspection into the recording. It’s like vapours pouring from a vial, it’s music you inhale until you embody it. I know it sounds unlikely – and I would have agreed with you had I not heard it myself. This is an album that you forced to invest in, it’s that compelling a listen. I defy you to not do be haunted by this.
Lyrically, it flits between sinister and uplifting. Sometimes, there are moments where the two worlds cross over. The opening lines of the chorus on Devil’s Work Is Never Done is one such time, but the melody Simmons conjures up drives it home as if the words were delivered by a nail gun:
“It looks so easy sounds so damn simple
You think these souls fall right outta the sky?
Jesus back off, this one’s mine”
I mean, come on!
This album could have fallen into clichés very easily. Somehow, Simmons avoids them even while the themes sit up front, riding shotgun. The words he chooses, the chords he plucks; these are the things that prevent this from being pastiche and ensure the album continues to have that emotional effect on you throughout. I can picture the tribute Elvis bawling as Simmons’ sings Cryin’ Elvis. Brought to life by his voice, held by the framework of composition and thoughtful fingerpicking on the guitar.
The album is littered with clever lines. It’s hard not to quote them endlessly. Lines like, “I sipped on a quart of sloth / Fell behind and got lost” which pops up in the second half of Dante’s Blues No.7. And there are plenty more to discover.
Even as the album slows and begins its descent towards its end, the quality continues to ascend. It brought to mind another recent album that floored me on first listen and continues to reward, Evensongs by Andrew Rumsey. It’s interesting to me that both have religious connotations, but wear them like a tattoo that can be glimpsed. You can pull up the sleeve and bear witness, but even if you prefer to ignore them it doesn’t diminish the experience these songs bring. You’re part of the congregation listening to Simmons’ blend of sermon and confessional, just by pressing play.
I’ll leave you with another lyric, this time from the final song, Long Way To Go.
“And I heard somebody say
You gotta walk that lonesome valley
On your own just to prove your worth”
Well, actually, you can have Stephen Simmons accompany you. And that’s as close to perfect as you’ll get on any day of the week.