By the time he reached 55, Stone Jack Jones had spent a lifetime as a carnie, ballet dancer, lute player and hundreds of other things, trying his luck from Buffalo Creek to Charleston to Boston to New York to Fort Worth to Atlanta to Nashville. Mostly, he made music—even if it was just playing on the street or at a nearly empty open mic. Then in 2003, he met Roger Moutenot, who’d engineered albums for They Might Be Giants and Yo La Tengo. And all of a sudden, something happened. Jones’ third album, Ancestor, is out now via Western Vinyl. He will also be guest editing all week. Read our new feature on him.
Jones: they don’t have to know they are a muse. this can be kind of exciting like unrequited love. in fact, you don’t even have to know them personally. my early muses were edie sedgwick, vanessa redgrave and sylvia plath. at different times. sometimes all at once. moving from greek myths to early infatuations, i noticed that designers went public about their muses. i got kind of jealous. i wanted a muse i could walk around with in the flesh and blood. at least one. i do recommend the muse. anything that gets us introverts out of our selves. someone to write a song to. someone who is with you somehow even when they are not. they might even bring you chicken soup when you are sick. and a movie.
