One of the first offerings in a series of live albums culled from the archives of McCabe's Guitar Shop, a celebrated music store and performance space in Santa Monica, CA, this disc preserves a 13-song set from singer/songwriter Freedy Johnston, who at the time was in Los Angeles recording his fine 1999 album, Blue Days Black Nights. The first half of the show is devoted to songs from the then-gestating album, and the often downbeat mood of these tunes is well served by the stripped-down presentation they're given here, with Johnston accompanied just by his own acoustic guitar. Guitarist Mark Spencer (then of the Blood Oranges) steps up to fill out the sound for the second half of the show, which is culled from his prior albums for Elektra, except for an inspired cover of Jimmy Webb's "Wichita Lineman." The understated humor and playful eccentricity of Johnston's earlier work gets a bit lost in this performance; the spare performances bring out the darker undercurrents of these songs, and the Blue Days Black Nights material was already noticeably more downbeat than most of his body of work. However, there's a warmth and intimacy in this music that's genuinely affecting, and the Johnston/Spencer combo quietly reaches impressive heights on "This Perfect World," "Western Sky," and "Wichita Lineman." This is a warts-and-all soundboard recording (during "Underwater Life," Johnston pauses to ask the audience if they can hear his guitar, since he can't), but given the source the sound quality is quite good, and this is a worthy document of a talented and underappreciated performer in his element on-stage. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
Right Between the Promises comes across as simultaneously the flip side of, and a companion piece to, 1999's Blue Days Black Nights. Where that album's songs flowed with an ominous energy barely concealed by the moody, hushed tones of their surface, Promises forces those same emotions out into the light -- a cathartic, rocked-out release to Nights' endless tension. The result? Smart, darkly ambiguous songs that nevertheless seem built for high-volume, summertime play on a car stereo. Promises continues the slant toward vague, impressionistic character studies, and away from narrative Johnston started on that previous album. In a way, though, it's telling that his sole cover here is an unabashedly straight version of Edison Lighthouse's '70s bubblegum hit "Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes)" -- and more telling that he does it so well. Even the strangest stuff here has a certain accessibility: The chunky, harmonically fractured blues "Back to My Machine" holds attention despite its overly ambitious, science fiction-themed lyrics. The few tunes that hark back to the subdued quality of Nights have a new aura of poppiness, too; the gentle guitar hook in "Arriving on a Train" sounds breezy rather than just forebodingly delicate, and not even the prominent cellos and violins seem mournful. The disc includes the first studio appearance of "Radio for Heartache," previewed on Johnston's 2000 live record Live at 33 1/3. Right Between the Promises may not be as richly nuanced as his very best work, but it's still a fine example of his idiosyncratic brand of intelligent, radio-friendly folk-rock. ~ Kenneth Bays, All Music Guide
Modesty is the touchstone of Freedy Johnston's limited-edition live album, recorded in the studio before an audience of friends and acquaintances. Granted, a thoughtful minimalism has always been a part of his work; songs like "Western Sky" and "The Mortician's Daughter" are so tightly constructed, so lyrically spare, that Johnston seems to have excised every line not essential to the story being told. But Live at 33 1/3 takes that aesthetic to a whole new level, one that applies not only within individual tracks but across the album as a whole. It's not just that the set is brief: six Johnston originals, a trio of classic pop covers, and a preview of the unreleased (at the time) "Radio for Heartache." It's also that the low-key arrangements focus squarely on Johnston's vocals and guitar, with only a lone sideman accompanying him. There's no between-song patter, either, leaving Johnston's songs to do all the communicating. Solid renditions of longtime favorites like "The Lucky One," gems like "Until the Sun Comes Back Again," and Jimmy Webb's "Wichita Lineman" are performed well, but they don't necessarily reveal anything not inherent in the studio recordings. (In fact, "Emily," for all the unresolved tension in its skeletal melody, practically duplicates the track from Blue Days Black Nights, which was already nearly a solo performance.) As such, this won't be of much interest to the casual Johnston listener, but then, that's not who it was made for. Devoted fans will want it as a souvenir of the singer/songwriter's live show and for Johnston's idiosyncratic takes on Cole Porter's "Night and Day" and the Hollies' "Bus Stop." ~ Kenneth Bays, All Music Guide
The darkest, most understated Freedy Johnston record to date, Blue Days Black Nights is also the singer's most intimate effort, largely rejecting the quirky character studies of prior outings in favor of more plainly personal narratives, and revealing new shades of depth and honesty in the process. Co-producers T-Bone Burnett and Roger Moutenot cloak Johnston's songs in dusky atmospherics which underscore the music's spare beauty -- far removed from the crackling pop flavor of the preceding Never Home or even the shimmering folk of This Perfect World, Blue Days Black Nights possesses a hushed gravity which insinuates itself only over repeated listens. At times the results are overly ponderous, but a handful of tracks -- the opening "Underwater Life" and "Moving on a Holiday" included -- rank among Johnston's finest. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
From the propulsive opener "On the Way Out" to the lilting closer "Something's Out There" (about, of all things, a UFO abduction), the sparkling Never Home is Freedy Johnston's most musically and emotionally expansive outing to date. Finding a sympathetic ear in producer and guitarist Danny "Kootch" Kortchmar, Johnston's songs transcend their dark themes to reveal unexpected and heretofore unseen moments of warmth and sentimentality; even edgy, Randy Newman-like character studies such as "He Wasn't Murdered" and "Gone to See the Fire" offer moments of tenderness which their subjects (suicide and arson, respectively) can't suppress. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
Freedy Johnston's major-label debut is less consistently stunning than its predecessor, 1992's Can You Fly but, taken on its own terms, it affirms his position as one of the best songwriters of his generation. Certainly no one paints more evocative portraits of lonely, disappointed people. The majority of these 12 tracks are about men who either know or strongly suspect that they've done something unforgivable, and such is Johnston's mastery as a lyricist that it's even subtly apparent when his narrators are lying to themselves. Johnston frames his bleak narratives with melodic, chiming folk-rock; if anything, the predominantly mid-tempo songs and radio-ready Butch Vig production are a little too smooth, robbing This Perfect World of the edge that made Can You Fly so piercing. The most memorable tracks are the sparsest ones, where Johnston's words and appealingly plain voice take center stage. In addition to the melancholy opener, "Bad Reputation," other highlights include "Can't Shake This Town" and the witty "Dolores" -- few songwriters could pack so many Lolita allusions into three minutes of guitar pop without sounding too clever by half. Best of all is the mournful, eerie title track, which describes the possibly mortal sins of one man's past and the hopelessness of his future with the economy and punch of a good short story. ~ Kristi Coulter, All Music Guide
The six-song EP Unlucky features Can You Fly's tale of Las Vegas woe, "The Lucky One," in both its completed and demo forms. In addition to three new Johnston originals, it also contains a terrific cover of Jimmy Webb's "Wichita Lineman." ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
A giant step forward from his likeable but ragged debut, Freedy Johnston's Can You Fly is a stunningly accomplished and coherent album that recalls the raw lyricism of such quintessentially American writers as Raymond Carver and Richard Hugo. Johnston sold his family's Kansas farm to finance the recording of Can You Fly, a fact that's cited in the record's opening line and reflected in several autobiographical songs about the guilty downside of pursuing a dream. Elsewhere, Johnston creates rich character studies of people who are vaguely aware that their lives have gone awry but aren't sure what to do about it. If Johnston's stories are bleak, however, the delicacy of his melodies and simple, clean production ensure that hearing them is downright exhilarating. Standouts include the wistful gambler's lament "The Lucky One," the tender "Mortician's Daughter," and especially the supernatural-tinged title track. Syd Straw contributes vocals on one track, the lovely duet "Down in Love." ~ Kristi Coulter, All Music Guide
Johnston's debut, though not without its rough edges, firmly established him as a talent to be reckoned with -- even his earliest songs are marked by great maturity and insight. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide