07.01.07 NetRhythms Stephen Simmons - Last Call (Me And My Americana)   This month sees the overdue release in this country of Stephen's singularly impressive and widely acclaimed debut full-length CD, which originally came out in the US two years ago (shortly after his self-released live EP). Coming to it fresh from the perspective of last year's almost brutally sparse Drink Ring Jesus, it's an altogether different animal in at least the one respect: over the course of its 71 minutes, it covers a wide variety of musical canvases from full band arrangement to stripped-down acoustic. Although thematically it deals with much the same concerns (loss, love, life), Last Call is shot through with originality of thought and perception, while its emotional landscape, though familiar, ain't exactly predictable. Its potent stories are concerned with the various ways the album title can be interpreted: the "last call" from the bar, the "last call" for your soul, and the "last call" of small town living when experiencing city life. Each track is an epic of situational observation, subdued and melancholy but upliftingly so, from within which we experience the soul's reflections on the human condition, often as if viewed from the bottom of a glass. Love and life, religion and redemption (Forgive Me Father for what I done here today), tales from the dark night of the soul yet curiously soothing, for life ain't easy for anyone in Loserville - whether it's the unfortunate Shut-Up Samantha, the uncomfortably familiar protagonist in the sinister Dirty Side Of Me, or the guy's painful regret that twists the knife for that eternal dilemma of Betty I'm Married. Then, Lay On The Tracks plumbs the depths of despair and desolation but the sweetness of the melody and the arrangement signify a peculiarly calm resignation; and another standout, the beautiful Just Like Love, is at one and the same time direct and enigmatic. Stephen's brilliant, sometimes deceptively dark little vignettes are couched in comfortingly familiar musical colours with prominent elements such as lonesome harmonica, fiddles, gentle twang, occasional pedal steel and dobro, soft brushed drums (tho' there's still a few surprises, such as the almost grungy energy of the title track). These features aside, it's real hard to categorise Stephen's music - tho' I wouldn't be exaggerating to say there's the feel of a Tennessee version of Steve Earle on County Lines, and quite a few tracks kinda recall a backwoods version of Springsteen. Stephen's also real fortunate to be supported on this disc by a whole gang of Nashville notables: Kenny Vaughn (guitar), Dave Jacques (bass), Paul Griffith (drums), David Henry (cello), Wendy Newcomer (backing vocals), Casey Driessen & Ward Stout (fiddles), with Paul Niehaus and producer Eric Fritsch. Now I've spent entire days playing this CD over and over again, and I still don't feel I've got its full measure, there's so much on offer, so many depths and subtleties. It may be an overwhelming sprawl of an album, with so many ideas running through its 16 tracks in a heady (if at times understated) parade of imagery and sounds that provide a challenge to the senses and emotions. Last Call is a magnificent record genuinely without a weak moment, that fully justifies the acclaim heaped on Stephen as one of the outstanding new talents within what's loosely classed contemporary roots Americana. – David Kidman 10.01.06 NetRhythms STEPHEN SIMMONS Drink Ring Jesus (Rounder) Imagine a world weary blend of Steve Earle, John Prine and Harry Chapin, and you have a rough idea of how the Nashville singer-songwriter sounds. Dusty, acoustic Americana built around themes of faith and redemption, although Simmons makes no apologies for his beliefs given that his own upbringing in the conservative Church of Christ saw musical instruments banned from church this isn't quite the God bothering album you might expect from songs like Devil's Work is Never Done, Next Stop Redemption and the title track. At times calling to mind the similarly themed concerns with losers and religion found in Johnny Cash's catalogue, Simmons sings of lost souls in need of a 'fixer-upper' carpenter, of a drunk finding Christ's face revealed on his beer glass, of the seven deadly sins engendered by drink and of the salvation train stopping off at long abandoned depots on its way back to the eternal terminus. He even adopts the Devil's voice to complain that all he ever gets are the 'poster child souls who think they're above the fold' while God takes the poor and the needy with their true hearts. But you don't have to have a family Bible by the bedside to get lost in Simmons's melancholic baritone or share his stained reflections on the tears and travails of life, of losing your tracks, being unable to find the way home, and ultimately doing the best you can in the hope of a brighter tomorrow. – Mike Davies