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| Title | Genre | Released | Plays |
| Too Much Not Enough | Rock | May 5, 2007 | 354 |
| Come on Home to Me | Blues | May 5, 2007 | 316 |
| When Tomorrow Comes | Rock | May 7, 2007 | 232 |
| Memphis Pointed Train (Short) | Blues | May 8, 2007 | 219 |
| As She Came In | Alternative | May 5, 2007 | 212 |
| Love Conquers All | Rock | May 5, 2007 | 199 |
| Something's Come Over You | Rock | May 6, 2007 | 195 |
| Sanctuary | Pop | May 9, 2007 | 192 |
| Union Street | Rock | Sep 19, 2007 | 116 |
Biography
Jon Storm's compelling music was conceived in a congress of Southern soul, rock'n'roll, Georgia gospel, rowdy rockabilly, and backstreet blues.
It was born in kudzu-covered bars, in alley-entrance studios, in lakeside pavillions, and in small-town armories rented out for Friday-night dances.
It matured on the road with touring bands, bands that played on bills with Otis Redding and the Rolling Stones, bands that played halls and dives and piers and colleges and even on the Dick Clark Caravan of Stars.
It was disciplined in the demands of a staff song-writing stint at the west-coast publishing branch of giant MCA in Los Angeles.
Jon Storm's music defies description, and it especially defies categorization. The music is, itself, a tour, a journey across the rich and varied landscape of the culture that gave it birth. You might find the faintest echo of a gospel tent across a dark field. Or the wrenching wail of a distant blues harmonica. Or the exuberance of a back-porch guitar-pull. Or a tremolo trip to '50's angst. Or even a mournful cello sawing out the sadness of eternal loss.
All the musical textures are traveling companions with the poetry of Jon Storm's lyrics—sometimes ironic and funny, sometimes sarcastic and bitter enough to peel paint, sometimes touching enough to move the most calloused heart, but always surprising in their depth of perception into the human condition.
You can contact Jon Storm personally by e-mail at jonstorm@vidiars.com
It was born in kudzu-covered bars, in alley-entrance studios, in lakeside pavillions, and in small-town armories rented out for Friday-night dances.
It matured on the road with touring bands, bands that played on bills with Otis Redding and the Rolling Stones, bands that played halls and dives and piers and colleges and even on the Dick Clark Caravan of Stars.
It was disciplined in the demands of a staff song-writing stint at the west-coast publishing branch of giant MCA in Los Angeles.
Jon Storm's music defies description, and it especially defies categorization. The music is, itself, a tour, a journey across the rich and varied landscape of the culture that gave it birth. You might find the faintest echo of a gospel tent across a dark field. Or the wrenching wail of a distant blues harmonica. Or the exuberance of a back-porch guitar-pull. Or a tremolo trip to '50's angst. Or even a mournful cello sawing out the sadness of eternal loss.
All the musical textures are traveling companions with the poetry of Jon Storm's lyrics—sometimes ironic and funny, sometimes sarcastic and bitter enough to peel paint, sometimes touching enough to move the most calloused heart, but always surprising in their depth of perception into the human condition.
You can contact Jon Storm personally by e-mail at jonstorm@vidiars.com
