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: as i lay dying … yes as i lay dying seven years ago, all i could do was lie on a couch bundled up and listen to beethoven as i withered away. a long slow process. they never knew what i had. my blood was sent all around the world, maybe injected in mice. i don’t know, but no conclusion was reached. just that i was dying and there was nothing to do. i was on drugs as part of my boat to the other side. a large bird of prey would perch on my chest. I would close my eyes, and when i opened them the bird would be a skeleton. a beautiful skeleton of the bird. i would close my eyes, and when i opened them the bird would be clothed in his magnificent feathers. my friends kelly shay and kyle would come see my dressed like Victorian undertakers complete with top hats & plumes. they were lovely. a priest from liberia came & gave me last rights. he was eggplant black and had a smile that made the room shine. i dreamed of heaven and my friends who are alive were there. we would be sitting on a porch playing music in some idyllic setting. i would wonder, “but you are alive. why are you here?” i concluded that heaven doesn’t care if we are alive or dead. heaven just cares that we love each other.
