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I think most of it takes place in dreams, Caleb Landry Jones says of his debut solo album, The Mother Stone. InchI'm talking more about dreams than I am about what's happened iin the physical realm. Or I'm talking about both, and you're not sure what's what. InchThis is the kind of conversation you end up having about a record like this one, a sprawling psychedelic suite built from abrupt and disorienting detours and schizoid shifts of voice, it's manic energy forever pulling the tablecloth out from under classic pop orchestration. One minute you're squarely in the realm of biographical fact and a moment later you're having a discussion about lucid dreaming and how Jones once punched up a dream set on a soccer field by willing himself to experience it from the POV of the ball. But maybe that's just another story about grabbing the wheel of your own hallucination; maybe this pertains to the music after all. Some biographical facts Caleb Landry Jones was born in Garland, Texas in 1989 and comes from a long line of fiddle players. Three, maybe four generations back, on his mother's side. His grandfather wrote jingles for commercials, his mother was a singer-songwriter who taught piano lessons in the house, and his father was a contractor who did a lot of work for the Dallas music-equipment retailer Brook Mays and knew a guy if you needed a bass or a banjo. But Jones is not sure if you can hear any of this in his music and he does not play the fiddle. What you can hear on this record are the marks left by conversion experiences, two in particular. First there's Jones' formative encounter with the Beatles' InchWhite Album,Inch the Fabs record most obviously composed by four Beatles rowing in different directions, and the beginning of what Jones calls Inchthis British Invasion of my soul,Inch which is still ongoing. Second, there's Syd Barrett, cracked vessel of Pink Floyd
