"I think for writers, and people in general, they always have to sensationalize things to be bigger than they are," says Moore, by phone, of the differences between his early career and his status now. "Not that Joe Ely would have never, ever have made a record like this, but (Luminaria) is very connected with my life, my whole career."
By his second solo effort, 1995's Modernday Folklore, Moore had already expanded his repertoire beyond Ely's standard country-blues. Moore, who plays the Sylvia Theatre in York Friday night, says it should be pretty obvious that he was headed Luminaria's way even back then.
"If I'd had the tools to make records like this when I was younger," he says, "I probably would have."
With this August 2004 release, his first for North Carolina's Yep Roc Records, Moore has taken full advantage of the tools at his disposal. But we're not talking about a couple of round-the-clock weeks at a professional studio with top dollar producers and coke-fueled entourages. No, for Moore, the right tools are anywhere and everywhere -- a home studio, an inspirational stretch of lonely highway, a reel-to-reel tape in a friend's living room at 4 in the morning -- and can be as simple as a conscientious set of ears.
"I have a ton of new songs -- I don't know if they're great or terrible or what," he says. "I'll probably try and record a little bit in my studio, and play them for some of my friends and get a sense of where I am at.
"The people surrounding me are such a huge influence on me beyond their actual input. Just feeling surrounded by people that encourage you as an individual -- you really have to struggle to find that. Any time I find people who say they want to kick my ass for not going forward far enough, those are the people I pull close to me."
Though Moore lives just outside Seattle now, he can't help but chuckle at the relative nature of "settled" in his case. The 11 songs on Luminaria weren't just originally composed on the road, where Moore has written most of his songs; they are a stylistically wide-ranging, deeply soulful, loosely knit group of compositions that are, quite literally, vehicles by which the wandering protagonist(s) travel from one destination to another, and also through life.
Luminaria also says a lot about its creator -- beginning with its title. Citing the familiar paper bags with candles in them that line the streets and walkways of certain cities during the Christmas season (Moore was inspired by the luminaries of Cuernavaca, Mexico), Moore was struck by how representative they were -- when looked at a certain way -- of his itinerant professional life.
"When you're walking around and you're caroling and it's cold out and you're bundled up, after a while they tend to become these blurry points of light, just because there are so many of them," he says. "My life is kind of like that, it's a constant state of motion and the surroundings tend to get blurry at times, it's hard to know sometimes where you are."
But as it's often said, naming it is half the battle. His travels have helped Moore find those elusive people -- often other musicians -- who, by their own inquisitive natures, have helped keep Moore pointed forward. Ask him how he recreates his new record's rich textured sounds on stage, for instance, and his answer could be a summary for his life in general.
"I've never in my career tried to re-create a record," live, says Moore, whose set will be split into two parts -- an acoustic duet portion and a full-band section. "I pretty much leave it as what it was done at the time, and move forward -- just let the songs become whatever they're going to become -- I really enjoy playing songs and letting them become something new."
Ian Moore plays the Sylvia Theatre in York, SC, Friday at 9pm