Now 37, he’s still lanky, resembling a more angular Matt Dillon. His hair, still long and shaggy, is now threaded with gray. Leaning forward on a cafe’s red velvet couch, wearing jeans, boots, a white linen shirt and black leather jacket, he talks about his first album in 10 years, Cruel and Gentle Things.

He’s touring in support of the disc – opening for the John Mayer Trio through mid-October and playing a few club dates of his own.

He calls the new album a “surrender.”

“It was like, you know what, I’m going to stop trying to write a big rock song that they want me to write. This is what I do. … That’s the kind of music I make.”

That means twangy, lush and melodic, with Sexton playing everything from guitar to dobro and cello to percussion. It’s a long way from his slick, highly produced 1985 debut, which yielded the unexpected hit, “Beat’s So Lonely.”

In the early 1990s he formed the Arc Angels with Stevie Ray Vaughn’s rhythm section – bassist Tommy Shannon and drummer Chris Layton – and fellow guitarist Doyle Bramhall II, all longtime friends.

They were an oasis of roots rock in the midst of grunge, and sold-out crowds came to hear “Living in a Dream,” a modest radio hit. But about a year later, Bramhall’s drug problems “blew the band up,” Sexton says.

A few years later came the Charlie Sexton Sextet and Under the Wishing Tree, an alt-country masterpiece that somehow missed the movement. Sales were disappointing. The band was recording a follow-up for A&M Records when the Universal-Polygram merger left them without a deal.

His former manager and longtime friend Tim Neece says he wishes he’d started slower with Sexton back when he was first signed at age 16. “Give him time to grow into it,” Neece said. “Maybe make a lower profile, lower key, more organic record.”

Sexton’s debut, Pictures for Pleasure, sold about 300,000 copies in the U.S., but expectations had been much, much higher, Neece says.

That Sexton had even made it that far was an accomplishment. His mother was 16 when he was born. His father went to prison when he was four and his parents divorced. Unable to afford a babysitter, his mother took Sexton and his younger brother to Austin’s nightclubs, where Sexton showed early prowess.

He played with John Lee Hooker when he was 12; toured with Joe Ely as his lead guitarist when he was 13.

“I knew that there was only a certain number of options for me and I kind of had this natural ability. Music was it,” he explains. “My father always says two negatives make a positive. He’s amazed. For all intents and purposes, I should be an alcoholic drug addict.”

Despite his talent, Sexton again found himself out of work in 1999, married with a 6-month-old son. He was feeling the pressure to provide, to earn a stable living.

That’s when Bob Dylan came calling. The two had played together more than 20 years ago and “for whatever reason, Bob liked me,” Sexton says. They agreed on a one-year deal.

“I had just had a kid. I was completely broke. No prospects. So, it was either be a carpenter or go on the road with Bob Dylan,” he says without a trace of irony.

When pressed, he elaborates: “I wasn’t willing to be demeaned any further musically or do stuff that I didn’t believe in. … I was on a mission to try to achieve a certain level of song, and music’s sacred to me.”

His decision turned out to have greater repercussions – personally, not musically – than he’d ever imagined.

He holds up a bare wedding finger.

“The loss was significant,” he says. Greater than the gains? “Probably.”

He left Dylan’s tour in 2002 and quickly established himself as a producer, earning credits on albums by Lucinda Williams and Edie Brickell, among others. He also started putting together “Cruel and Gentle Things.”

The last of the album’s 10 songs is “It Don’t Take Long,” where listeners can find the theme Sexton says he’s been trying to articulate since “Beat’s So Lonely.”

“Ever wanting. Ever longing. Never-ending blue,” Sexton says, reciting the lyrics in his Marlboro-tinged voice. “So I’ll take the inspiration with the gloom because usually where there’s a tear, there’s a tune.”