08.03.04 NashvilleZine.com Stephen Simmons, Last Call (Locke Creek Records) Stephen Simmons stares from the back of his album Last Call with a sternness that pierces any notion of rollicking light-heartedness conjured in its name. On this label debut filled with twangy grit and soothing vulnerability, the Nashville-based artist employs a kind of Southern Gothic storytelling that casts a haunting shadow on the human condition and lends a voice to the guilty conscience. His is a sound wrapped in the crumpled, faded denim of American roots music, comforting and sturdy, but unforgiving in the tight spots. The album’s title owes as much to the sobering pages of Revelations as it does the headiness of the strong final drink; and Simmons proposes that in the end, the experiences might not be so dissimilar, a tenuous separation like that of faithfulness and infidelity, love and lust and the decision at the fork of good and evil. In toeing that line, Simmons carves a unique place for himself. At certain times, the subtlety of the lyrics and his careful twists hang like a scathing whisper from the reconciled soul, but in the next breath, there’s a clap on the back from the guy who’s "thirsty for sin, and yearning for knowledge," as he sings in the bawdy and bluesy title track.This meaty, 16-song release adds amplified punch to two songs, "Loserville" and "Sweet Salvation," that appeared on the stark 2001 acoustic collection, Live – five song sampler. A lot has changed in the three years since a boyish, clean-cut Simmons was performing on the side while balancing the 9-to-5 work world. What has remained is his ability to capture in his music a blue collar America of little privilege and few easy breaks, a nod to his musical inspirations that include Woody Guthrie, Steve Earle and Bruce Springsteen. Like his characters searching for an identity after separating from established roots, Simmons flourishes by drawing from his rural upbringing and examining the transition into the unknown before emerging tattered but unbridled with his guitar and harmonica. History constantly taps the shoulder, denying complete separation from the oft-ugly truth in "Loserville" and "Shirley’s Stables," and acts as a reminder of bitter realities that aren’t so disposable in "County Lines" and "Grey Skies." His thoughtful approach to storytelling and eagerness to study the less-than-desirable side of human nature results in several stellar relationship songs, not necessarily about love and not always sweet, but certainly honest. From the confessional "Dirty Side of Me" to the morning-after guilt of "Forgive Me Father," Simmons presents unvarnished accountability for the thoughts and actions that mostly go unspoken, wrapped in soft percussion and the sweet backing vocals of Wendy Newcomer. And his characters are not immune to the pain that they have inflicted. The bottomed-out lamentations of failed love in "Lay On The Tracks" and "Just Like Love" are delivered with strength and resignation from a soul that just can’t remain unaffected even though, sung in another song, "you’ll get used to it baby, just like the rest of us do." The album’s strength is in Simmons’ ability to weave stories with unexpected twists that reveal the truth about his characters in one short phrase. Some are delivered, some are damned, but there’s no heavy-handed judgment on any of them. They’re just a collection of regular folks in the common struggle, and Simmons stands shoulder-to-shoulder with them all, exposing the cosmic truths that he digs up in his own backyard.