The cover art for "The Palace Drag Demos" is Caleb Davis' own unblinking stare, triplicated in primary colors, looking directly into the camera.
Like the music on his EP, it's sparse but inviting, deliberately disconcerting and ultimately uncompromising. The follow-you-around-the-room eyes demand some sort of response from the listener.
The whole point of his one-man project Small Stares, Davis explained, is it's not for everyone.
"Everybody's so afraid to say what they think," he said. "And whenever I do [speak honestly], people take it as I'm abrasive or I'm whatever. The same thing goes with my music, too."
A devotee of Bruce Springsteen and Jason Isbell, Davis said his attitude as an artist entails a conscious gamble: Risk humiliation and misunderstanding for the chance at a real connection.
The singer-songwriter pairs a ragged-edge inflection with a devastating lyrical talent to create songs filled with longing, and bitterness and bloody smiles -- it's fresh-wound music.
"Whenever I write, it's all on my sleeves," he said. "And people would say, 'Aren't you afraid people are going to relate your songs to you or they're going to see this raw part of you?' ... No. I hope you have a raw experience whenever you see me."
To spite a world full of Instagram filters, Tinder dates and myriad interpersonal ephemera, Davis uses vulnerability to connect the old-fashioned way.
"I hope you're moved every time because that's what it's about," he said. "It's an intimate conversation I have with everyone."
His style is demanding, to be sure, but also wholly worthwhile for those with whom it resonates. "For what I'm doing," he said, "it's very upfront and there in your face."
In "If It's Nailed Down, Leave It," Davis sings, "I'm an empathetic sponge / soak up every ounce of pain." But he's more than just that. He's a gripping storyteller as well.
"Confession Bar" is an achingly frank account of an awful night told through the eyes of a narrator who's convinced himself of all the worst notions.
"There's a lot of lines in there about being completely, openly a mess in public and stuff like that," he said.
But instead of lionizing the protagonist for his angst, the lyrics tack his shortcomings, insecurities and contradictions right up on the wall.
"'Confession Bar' is just my way to vent the way what I'm feeling by telling a story that maybe many people have experienced," he said.
Unsurprisingly, the song doesn't end happy. It's not a salve, but it is a start; an offer to a sort of exposure-therapy redemption. Or not.
But that's the way it goes, Davis said.
"It's stuff that people don't like to talk about, I think," he said, but added that's why he thinks it's important to get up in front of an audience, look them dead in the eye and just say it.
"[I want people in the audience to know] that you're not in this alone," he said. "Even if you're afraid to admit it, I'm up here admitting it for all of us that this is how I feel sometimes."
Near the end of "Bones," he seems to sum up his music in a line.
"I just want to know," he sings, "that you know what I mean."
And if they do, great. That's what it's all about.
If not, they're just another squinting Philistine, another small stare.
Those judgments are part of the deal, he said, "and that's fine."
Keep up with Caleb Davis and the Small Stares at www.soundcloud.com/smallstares and www.facebook.com/Small-Stares-466475076837588.
tgraef@semissourian.com
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