Cory M. Coons Brings Tradition and Heart to Life on “The Sun Sessions”

Cory M. Coons’ new EP, The Sun Sessions, is a quietly resonant project rooted in history yet fully connected to the present moment. Recorded live-off-the-floor at Memphis’s legendary Sun Studio, the four-track release serves as both a personal milestone and a thoughtful tribute to the birthplace of rock ’n’ roll. For Coons, whose catalog often blends Americana warmth with singer-songwriter introspection, this EP is a chance to step into a storied space and let its legacy shape the performances in subtle, meaningful ways.

Opening with “Crumbs ’24” — a 20th-anniversary revisit of his 2004 original — Coons leans into the vulnerability that defined the earliest versions of country and folk-pop recording. The track is intentionally unpolished, captured in a single take using vintage microphones and half-inch tape. You hear the authenticity immediately: the slight air in his vocals, the natural resonance of the room, and the way the guitar tone settles into the space rather than dominating it. It’s a reminder of how emotional clarity can sometimes shine brightest when the technology steps aside.

The EP’s centerpiece and new single, “Memphis Whiskey Blues,” achieves a different kind of intimacy — one built on ease, groove, and the universal language of the blues. Coons taps into familiar imagery — trains, bourbon, heat rising off the rails — but does so with a genuine affection for the form. There’s no heavy-handed attempt to reinvent the wheel; instead, Coons focuses on delivering a performance that feels lived-in. His warm vocal tone, relaxed delivery, and steady acoustic rhythm create a track that’s as comforting as it is expressive, a highlight that feels tailor-made for Americana and roots playlists.

“Faded Glory (Land of the Free)” shifts the EP into more reflective territory. Without grandstanding or overt political statements, Coons offers a subdued yet heartfelt meditation on the complexities of national identity. It’s understated songwriting, delivered with the kind of quiet confidence that allows the listener to supply their own meaning.

Closing with a spirited “Hound Dog/Don’t Be Cruel” medley, Coons nods directly to the studio’s most recognizable alumnus, Elvis Presley. The performance is neither mimicry nor novelty; it’s an affectionate glimpse into the session’s spontaneity — the sort of moment that would have felt at home in Sun’s earliest days, when musicians came in ready to experiment and simply see what the room inspired.

What makes The Sun Sessions stand out in Coons’ discography isn’t its retro leanings, but its sincerity. The EP pays homage to the past without becoming trapped by it, offering instead a fresh, heartfelt addition to the Americana landscape. By returning to the roots of live recording, Cory M. Coons delivers a project that feels grounded, human, and refreshingly unadorned — a testament to the enduring power of honest music.

–James Best