Thurs Sept 9, Tractor, 9 pm, $8.
A combination of geography and time have put Ian Moore in an interesting artistic twilight zone within the Northwest scene.
With the boyish good looks of a younger, dirty-blond incarnation of Jackson Browne and an arresting, vulnerable vocal presence that prompts unavoidable comparisons to Jeff Buckley and Richard Buckner, Moore was a critically lauded fixture on the Austin roots rock scene throughout the '90s. His formative stint as a touring guitarist for country-punk legend Joe Ely put him on the same stage with the Rolling Stones and ZZ Top, while his native ties resulted in broad respect among Austin musicians, a fiercely loyal regional fan base, and fascinating footnotes like his role as Dwight Yoakam's guitarist in the movie Sling Blade. When he quietly relocated to Vashon Island with his wife and children in 1998, he gained some much-craved anonymity and a much-needed opportunity to cleanse his creative palate.
"I was doing really well when I left Austin," explains Moore, " but I had no perspective on anything and there was no scene similar to what I wanted to do. With the exception of [Spoon frontman] Britt [Daniels], everybody was either a redneck punk rocker or roots rocker. I got so sick of everyone sounding like this fucking cliché of what outsiders wanted Austin to sound like. I wanted to be able to go see shows, not know anybody, and just be part of a community."
Moore's desire to escape his local-legend status is characteristic of a work ethic and creative drive that don't allow room for even brief episodes of inertia. His touring regimen is rigorous almost to a fault, and he chose to self-produce his latest solo release, Luminaria, most of which was recorded while on the road--despite having little previous experience with engineering. Employing the talents of 15 different musicians he encountered along his tour route and utilizing hotel bathrooms as recording booths, he wove together an impressively consistent collection of rich, soulful pop songs, replete with his signature sensual character sketches (many of the song titles are feminine names) and graceful, engaging arrangements. It's the sort of austere, intimate record that deserves shelf space alongside Elliott Smith's XO or Leonard Cohen's Songs of Love and Hate--and is strong enough that it could inadvertently erase Moore's treasured anonymity.
Not that Moore is some jaded veteran who will run from the attention this record may bring--it's clear he still takes joy in the process of both creating and listening to new music. He's as much a music fan as he is a musician--his personal tastes shoot all over the map, from N.W.A. to Neutral Milk Hotel. "I'm a music fan. Ultimately I could just as easily be a music critic--I'm not saying I'd be good at it," he laughs, "but I love bands, I love discovering new music."
Now that he's had a chance to start over, he appreciates even more the freedom he has to redefine his work. "In Austin, it was hard, because once you're successful on a certain level, you're that. Moving up here was awesome--and it's really strange that I'm here and it's such a good fit. I feel now that what I do and where I am in my head makes sense. I like the fact that I write the music I make completely without compromise. If you follow my career, I haven't made the records that are the most opportunistic. People question what I'm doing with my career all the time, but this is what I enjoy."
