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JM Stevens – Invisible Lines
Invisible Lines makes an apropos title for the solo debut from JM Stevens. The Austin-based songwriter who fueled Moonlight Towers through 15 years, four albums and thousands of miles criss-crossing the country on shoestring tours has a knack for tapping the intangible elements of pop songcraft that elevate the enduring from the ephemeral. When he’s not playing solo or recording artists at his studio EAR, you might find him playing guitar with Craig Finn on the Hold Steady frontman’s European tour, or filling in for his brother, Blind Melon guitarist Rogers Stevens, on some dates in South America.
The universal theme of longing provides a cohesive thread to Invisible Lines. Opener “Runaway Stare” summons upbeat resilience in the face of soul-crushing forces that “leave you nothing but dreams of a new life.” Steel guitarist Marty Muse from Robert Earl Keen’s touring band adds to the doleful indecision of “Further I Run,” while “Maybe I Love You” basks in the warmth of Springsteen-style horns arranged by saxophonist Russell Haight. The record was recorded quickly, so as to capture a “live” energy, and features bassist Andrew Duplantis (Son Volt, Bob Mould, Meat Puppets) and drummer George Duron (Roky Erickson, Jon Dee Graham, Dumptruck).
What Stevens leaves out of his songs is almost as important as what he puts in. There’s no instrumental derring-do or insular lyricism. He’s wise enough to know not to let musical ego get in the way of a good hook. Stevens would rather have you humming along and connecting with the songs on your own emotional terms.
“Where the complexity comes in is the texture you put on them and the feeling as opposed to the inner-workings and gears,” he says. “I want to create more of an overall picture in a song.”
Like many Eighties-era youth living in smaller towns, Stevens discovered life beyond MTV and commercial radio through skateboarding and a Thrasher magazine subscription. His musical lexicon went further afield bit by bit, first to gateway bands like the Cure, Violent Femmes and Metallica, then to SoCal punk titans like Black Flag, Descendents and the Dead Kennedys. “We had a tight-knit group of friends who felt like it was our own thing,” he recalls.
Stevens’ churchgoing parents were not initially overjoyed when their two sons were swallowed up by rock music. While Blind Melon’s success ameliorated that sentiment, his dad remained the same man who once rousted his sons awake by taking a hammer to a cassette of Prince’s 1999 in the family kitchen due to the album’s lascivious lyrical content.
“He said he didn’t want that ‘Prince trash’ under his roof, which of course made me want to listen to it more. That’s the kind of drama he instilled in me,” Stevens says. “He was a trial lawyer and it was brilliant. I loved that that happened. My brother met Prince years later during the Blind Melon days and told him that story — Prince thought it was hilarious.”
At age 16, Stevens almost died when the truck he was in got hit by a freight train. The rail crossing on the outskirts of his hometown of West Point, Mississippi, had no gate or signal and was obscured by overgrowth. Stevens didn’t see the train until it was just a few yards away. It smashed into the passenger side door Stevens was sitting next to, pushing the truck down the tracks and into the woods.
In a split second, Stevens went from being a high school kid on his way to Sonic to being pinned inside a crumpled-up truck, fighting for his life with too many broken bones to count. After being painstakingly extricated from the vehicle, he was placed in intensive care, unable to walk or use his legs for months — bedridden at home longer still, after finally being released from the ICU. With his hands relatively intact, Stevens passed the months of recovery by playing guitar, and followed a calling to relocate to the fertile music town of Austin, Texas.
In 2000, Stevens formed Moonlight Towers with high school friend Richard Galloway on drums and bassist Jason Daniels. The trio’s liberating barside serenades earned them a following at local venues like Hole in the Wall and the Parish. In 2002, the band released its self-titled debut, and followed with 2005’s Like You Were Never There.
Moonlight Towers sold thousands of copies of their first two self-released albums the hard way—by staying on the road and playing at whatever venue would have them. Austin-based Chicken Ranch Records stepped in to release 2011’s Day is the New Night. Between Stevens’ supercharged production and his extra-tight set of songs, the album caught the ears of one-time Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham and E Street Band guitarist Steven Van Zandt, who named “Heat Lightning” Coolest Song in the World on Little Steven’s Underground Garage.
Stevens’ father passed away not long after Day was released. The more circumspect Heartbeat Overdrive followed three years later. The grayer tones of songs like “Come Back to Tara” provided aural evidence that the Towers weren’t the Jägerbombing road hounds of yore anymore. With families and straight jobs diverting bandwidth, it was perhaps inevitable that Stevens would have to put the group on ice.
For Stevens, the band’s inactivity coincided with other seismic life changes. He went through a divorce and began unpacking the post-traumatic stress of his adolescence. Memories of his parents’ divorce and the train collision flooded back. “That stuff goes somewhere in you,” Stevens says.
The nine songs on Invisible Lines are a byproduct of this period. With Moonlight Towers stilled, Stevens bought a new acoustic guitar and started playing solo around town. He’d take the Tuesday night slots no one else wanted or go play for nervous fliers at the airport. The idea was simply to get the songs out there and see how they worked in front of an audience.
“Now I hear it and I think it’s got a different energy to it. It feels connected. Almost the entire album was recorded live—even the vocals. The lyrics feel connected to the band in a different way than if you overdub them. It just sounds more real to me. I’m proud of that. It fluctuates. It moves and grooves.”