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Jefferson Ross's new CD, Hymns To The Here and Now, opens with his song Ordinary People, which begins with these lines:

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Jefferson Ross
"I've been around for ages. You are a shimmering light. We sing and dance in this big, round, blue cathedral. There is no such thing as ordinary people."
And right away, you grasp that this new release by a former resident of Lincolnton, Ga., isn't going to be an ordinary album.
This is one of those albums for people who love really good music with cleverly written lines. Ross' soft and smooth voice is backed by some of Nashville's best musicians.
"This is my homage to the South and the Peach State in particular," said Ross, who recently moved to Savannah, Ga., after living in Nashville, Tenn., for 26 years.
Like his last CD, Azalea , his new one is filled with Southern images including Long Torn Veils, which tells of his love for marshes, oysters and the Spanish Moss around Savannah.
"There is a bar on Tybee you can find me there at noon," he sings. "At midnight I'll be howling at a Bonaventure moon. On River Street I'll play and sing a Johnny Mercer tune and watch that muddy river roll on by."
His song House of the Lord is about creating your own "church" by simply having religious faith where you are at that moment. One verse even refers to the Jewish girl Anne Frank whose family's hiding place during World War II was discovered by Nazis. Ross writes, "It's a secret attic where the families prayed. Passover 1944 above the store. But while it hides the girl in Amsterdam, it is the house of the Lord."
That's definitely not your usual subject material for a country, bluegrass or an Americana song.
He wrote a funny and touching tribute to his Southern mother with Blanche DuBois Meets Lucille Ball and a tribute to a Martin guitar with Ballad of A D-18 . The guitar is telling the story of its own life.
"I've been spilt on, barfed on, El Kabonged on and kicked by horses while I sang the sweetest song beneath the moon. I've been wagered, pawned, bought and solded, lost in divorces. That just helps me ring a deeper tune."
In his poignant Courthouse Bells , Ross writes of happenings around a Southern small town courthouse square: "Now a little boy marches all alone, wearing a medal that his daddy owned. He said goodbye when he went away. Now the bells are calling him home today."
One of the most surprising songs on Ross' album is his personal tribute to Augusta's own late balladeer Larry Jon Wilson, who died in June of last year.
Carry On Like Larry Jon has Ross singing, "Larry Jon Wilson was a peach of a guy, with a voice like slow cooked thunder deep and low like God on high. And he never settled for the cheap lines. But he labored for the deep lines that nestled in his songs and around his eyes."
Ross said the inspiration for the song came to him shortly after Wilson died.
"I wanted to write a tribute, not only to him, but to those who devote their lives to art, whether or not they become famous or rich from it; those devoted to quality.
"It's so sad about his passing. I was really wanting to spend some serious time with him in planning to move back to Georgia. He was a giant."
Ross said his own songwriting and attitude about performing has been influenced by great singers and songwriters like Wilson who put their personal integrity above any attempts to achieve fame and fortune.
"Few songs will become money-making hits. But most songs can mean something and move someone else. Once that clicked with me, my writing got a whole lot better."