John Moreland's 'Tulsa Heat' comes to Cambridge Sunday night

John Moreland writes songs about lost loves, lost chances, and lost moments, and does it in a manner that is real and often raw, yet suffused with nuance and tender shadings. The 29-year old Oklahoma native just may be the most unforgettable songwriter who comes through the Boston area this year.

Moreland will be performing Sunday night at Atwood's Tavern in Cambridge. (Moreland should take the stage at 10 p.m., and all tickets are $8. Atwood's Tavern is located at 877 Cambridge St. in Cambridge, and tickets can be purchased through Brown Paper Tickets, or at the door. Call 617-864-2792 for more information.)

Moreland's third solo album, "High on Tulsa Heat," was just released at the end of April, and has already won plaudits in the New York Times and Rolling Stone, among others. Moreland's previous album, 2013's "In the Throes," had also won rave reviews almost everywhere, and landed two of its songs on the soundtrack for tv's "Sons of Anarchy," which also ended up using another tune from Moreland's solo debut, 2011's "Heaven." That raised Moreland's profile considerably, and he was able to get out of Oklahoma beer joints and play some better gigs, such as opening a 2013 tour for Jason Isbell. Later this summer, Moreland will be opening another leg of Isbell's current tour.

Moreland was born in Texas, grew up in Kentucky until the age of ten, when his family moved to Tulsa. He's been writing songs and playing bands since he was a young lad. But as a teen, he got his start playing in punk rock bands, like Thirty Called Arson. Gradually he grew weary of the loud volume burying his words, and shifted a bit to more mainstream rock, with the Black Gold Band in 2005. When that fell apart, he went the solo route, where his bio notes that he developed his dynamic and uninhibited vocal style trying to be heard in noisy barrooms.

But if there's one thing that is certain, it is that Moreland deserves to be heard. He cites Steve Earle as a major influence, and also Creedence Clearwater Revival, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, Tom Petty and Townes Van Zandt. Like all of those artists, he crafts fine melodies, and tells stories in his songs that have an emotional impact. But Moreland does it with a minimum of chaff, and a direct-to-the-bone style that is often stunning.

The new album has a lot of indelible moments, from the palpable yearning in "Heart's Too Heavy," with its keening, rustic rock feel, to the rather jaunty rocker "Sad Baptist Rain," where the onetime punk-rocker looks back at his conservative evangelical Baptist youth and what he's become. Nearly every tune has some lines to savor, such as the bittersweet, acoustic-guitar ballad "Cleveland County Blues," whose chorus notes "My baby's a tornado in the endless Oklahoma sky, spreading devastation, and singing me a lullaby."

"Losing Sleep Tonight" might remind listeners of The Band, and you could imagine Levon Helm singing this song of simple regrets. There's an inter-generational perspective, possibly Moreland's ode to his dad, in "American Flags in Black and White," with its affectionate chorus, "Your favorite version of the past, is found in photographs, American flags in black and white."

It's probably impossible not to be moved by "You Don't Care For Me Enough to Cry," a tale of a doomed love where both people realize it is doomed ("I'm the kind of love it hurts to look at, But once I was enough to make you try.."). The title cut is a roots rocker, fired by a calliope-like organ, depicting a joyous appreciation of life in the West.

But the new album's most arresting song, which has a video of surpassing power, is "Cherokee," said to be the product of a Moreland dream. It's a wistful lament for an absent person--a lost love, lost parent, lost mentor?--where the singer's pain and sense of loss is so acute you can't help but be enveloped in its spell. When he sings "well, you'd carve these doubts right out of me.." it seems we can all understand the depth of this relationship, this lost figure that meant so much.

Moreland laughs at the idea that people think he just deals with sad songs, or that even those tear-jerkers don't have some cathartic power. He's amused that some fans have started an Instagram account titled "Cheer Up John Moreland."

"Everybody tells me my songs are sad and depressing," Moreland chuckled, from a tour stop in Asbury Park, New Jersey this week. "Well, they make me feel awesome. It's just not in me to write light and fluffy songs. Something in me just wants to dig in. I personally feel "Gospel," a song on my last record, was the most positive song I've ever written."

Between his punk-rock teens and his current solo singer-songwriter shows, Moreland had Black Gold Band, which he views as a transitional period.

"I had gotten way into Steve Earle and Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Bruce Springsteen," said Moreland. "By then I really wanted to play roots music. Steve Earle was my gateway into that music. I knew him from my father's having his old records like "Copperhead Road." I was not into his later stuff until about that time, 2005, when I heard 'Rich Man's War.' Through reading up on Steve, I got into Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark, people who'd influenced Steve Earle. That kind of music has dominated my interest over the past ten years now."

"So, I wanted to play roots music, but all my friends were more from the hardcore scene," Moreland added. "What I was writing was coming out a lot louder and bigger than I'd anticipated. It was fun for a few years, when I was playing with all my best friends. We had a lot of lineup changes, and I was not comfortable playing with people I didn't know that well. I kinda quit my own band, and started playing solo out of necessity. Once I did, I figured out that I really liked playing solo. There are certain things you can do solo that you can't do with a band, and I grew to love it."

For this latest album, Moreland, who's not especially a fan of big studio recordings, hit on an impromptu plan for capturing his new music in an intimate setting. When his parents went away on vacation, he and a handful of his musician pals spent four or five days recording in the Moreland parents' house near Tulsa. While about half the album features songs in band formats, the singer doesn't worry about performing them solo, as on this tour.

"I like to work in a more laidback way in the studio, not having to watch the clock," Moreland said. "I also liked the idea of getting some friends together, gathering our instruments, and then saying, "What kind of record can we do?' Those decisions were then made for me by circumstance, which was cool. I've been in studios where there's tons of equipment and it's kind of confusing trying to decide what to use or not."

"I don't think I'm too worried about re-creating the record live," Moreland added. "Solo has to be different. A lot of these songs on the record are soft and quiet anyway, even though there may be four instruments on them. I don't do live performance with a band now, although I might in the future, especially in the studio. I do whatever I feel at the time, whatever feels right to me."

For the earlier parts of his career, and his first couple albums, Moreland was the quintessential do-it-yourself artist, handling his own merchandise sales, packing up his CDs and taking them to the post office. This album, however, comes with the vaunted Thirty Tigers group helping him with distribution, publicity and lost of those other business details.

"I'm used to making do with limited resources," said Moreland. "So this is a nice change, because the truth is that a lot of this other stuff just wasn't getting done before. I've basically ignored the business side, which just wasn't my strong suit."

Another nice change in Moreland's career now is that he seldom has to worry about projecting his tunes over rowdy barroom crowds. He plays a lot of listening rooms now, where the people come expressly for the music, and opening slots with acts like Isbell expose him to more and more smart music fans who can appreciate his gifts.

"I suppose I am playing in front of more appropriate audiences now," Moreland said with a soft laugh. "They're more open to the kind of stuff I'm doing, and as more find out about it, people come in to my shows knowing what the deal is. Even if I'm not in a listening room now, people tend to shut up and listen. It's been a long process of weeding out people who don't need to be there."

"The Sons of Anarchy connection was cool, and I still meet people at my shows who first heard me there," said Moreland. "It didn't create a noticeably huge bump in my crowds, but it was a welcome piece of the puzzle that gradually built my audience. I've opened a couple of tours with Jason Isbell, and I really like that dude. They are all awesome guys in his band and crew too, so I'm really looking forward to opening for them again this summer."