Rock song writer, composer for the ineffable and 80% dark matter

Long before he picks up his guitar, and long before he begins to sing, you know that Zachary James is going to bring something special to the song world. His low-key demeanor, his warmth and his charm draw you in. Then he picks up his guitar, starts to sing and that's where the story begins.  

But we've gotten ahead of ourselves. Born into a big Cajun family on Bayou Lafourche in south Louisiana, James formed his first “band” which was little more than he and a friend banging on trash cans and blowing a trumpet in the family garage. He fronted a few bands during high school and was good enough to draw him on the stages of revered New Orleans’ clubs opening for national and international touring acts.   

James honed his songwriting skills fronting an indie rock band in New Orleans and after a bit of success, the band powered their way out of the murkiness of south Louisiana with post-punk attitude, rawness, and noise-pop infused songs, relocating to New York City. The band found an enthusiastic following, playing coveted showcases at CBGBs and touring up and down the East Coast. But James and The Big City didn’t mesh well. Dejected and depressed, James quit and began writing solo material for his first solo album —The Last Great Golden Temptation.  

Several of the songs featured on The Last Great Golden Temptation were written while James was still living in New York. But as it has so often before, the road beckoned and he found himself back in Louisiana and then Alaska, a move James has credited with clearing his mind to continue his songwriting and performing. After the release of his first album and after five years in Alaska, James relocated to Southern California.  

James' influences are no surprise and they're always hovering in the background, influences like John Prine, The Byrds, Buck Owens, and The Band. But there's the influence of geography that lies beneath the surface and they share an important role: Louisiana bayous, New Orleans, Manhattan, Alaska and California. The third leg of influence is the undeniable sphere of his kids, family, and close friends.  

His latest releases invite listeners to stroll through James’ conscious as he navigates the minefield of  broken hearts and exploration of his relationships with those he loves.  

James said he limited the editing to some of the songs in order to preserve the authenticity of the  original idea. You won’t find these songs on the rack at the department store, these are songs  you’ll find on a dusty shelf at the hardware store. At the other end of the spectrum he adds a bit  of polish to songs like Big Road No. 10.   

The first verse in Good Liars, opens with a hook no one can resist to see what comes  next. “There’s a tiny door/on the barroom floor/where one just might try to escape.”  You want to follow the thread of this story to see where it leads.  

In Big Road No. 10. James sings about a “Getting yourself free kind of life,” a  line you’ll never get out of your head. He dreams of driving home on  “Big Road No. 10,” the interstate that crosses the southern states, but he’s also  struggling to look for something more like when life was more free.  

James reflects on his familial relationships and realizes all that he has to lose.  The Last Frontier paints the picture of the greater tragedy of giving up. As he  drives the open road with his wife, he wants to see her “Dancing in the broken starlight.”  

Nowhere does the country shine through as in Why Don't We (Just Get Started,) an  aching two-step about a love that's grown tired. But James is able to step back  and realize just what he’s going to lose if he lets love go. "The love is long  departed/I guess we’ve lost the will/Dreams don’t die they just get in the way."   

Some songwriters make their meaning clear, others trust you to work out the meaning.  Never mind that, just listen to the music and James will tell you all you need to know.

Scott Guion is following