{"id":4345,"date":"2011-04-02T23:48:47","date_gmt":"2011-04-02T23:48:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/?p=4345"},"modified":"2011-04-04T21:55:52","modified_gmt":"2011-04-04T21:55:52","slug":"ive-been-from-here-to-kinsley-kansas-freedy-johnston","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/2011-04\/ive-been-from-here-to-kinsley-kansas-freedy-johnston\/","title":{"rendered":"I’ve Been From Here to Kinsley, Kansas–Freedy Johnston"},"content":{"rendered":"

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We’ve hung around a few small Kansas towns in our lives.\u00a0 Concordia.\u00a0 Beloit.\u00a0 Belleville (sans les Triplettes).\u00a0 Freedy Johnston<\/strong> came from Kinsley, Kansas.\u00a0 There seem to be but two kinds of kids in these types of towns:\u00a0 those that can’t imagine leaving their beloved ten-cent-towns, and those who crave kinetic trains or stolen cars to quickly carry them away.\u00a0 Freedy Johnston was that second kid, and the musical world is far better for it.<\/p>\n

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Freedy left Kinsley and stepped on the Lawrence, Kansas*<\/strong> stone before Telecastering out to New York City in 1985.\u00a0 After rambling around the NYC boroughs for a bit, he signed to Bar\/None and released a few tracks and then his first proper record in 1990.\u00a0 Freedy then dropped the songwriting bomb in 1992 with his ravishing record,\u00a0 “Can You Fly,” which received universal praise and was named one of the year’s best albums by The New York Times and other smarty-pants outfits.\u00a0 One of our heroes, Robert Christgau (then of the Village Voice), called it “a perfect album.”\u00a0 To this day the songs on Can You Fly hit us in the heart and head with their heartland headaches and hearty helpings of woe and growing pain.<\/p>\n

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Freedy was so devoted to departure and the musical muse that he sold his family’s Kansas farm to finance the recording of Can You Fly, all of which is described and lamented on the opening song (Trying to Tell You I Don’t Know<\/em>) and on several other songs on the album. As you can imagine, there was a tinge of guilt involved in the cavernous cost of pursuing success.<\/p>\n

After the bombshell of Can You Fly, Freedy was signed by Elektra Records and next released “This Perfect World” in 1994.\u00a0 This Perfect World was just that:\u00a0 perfect.\u00a0 This Perfect World was (and still is) praised as one of the best albums of all-time.\u00a0 The album was produced by veteran Butch Vig, and included stints from great players such as Marshall Crenshaw, Marc Ribot, Kevin Salem, and Graham Maby.\u00a0 <\/em>In conjunction with its release, Freedy was rewarded with a minor hit single with “Bad Reputation”* off of This Perfect World.<\/p>\n

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After the hallowed heights of these two all-time records, Johnston’s output and career have roller-coastered over the years between the sublime and the ridiculous.\u00a0 He has released some great albums and songs over the years (most recently, last year’s critically-acclaimed “Rain On The City” album), and understandably enjoys a loyal fan following.<\/p>\n

Freedy’s masterful songs mediate musically between the raucous and the refined, with terse lyrical tales coated with carefully and concisely wrought character-studies. It’s a benevolent blend that has stood the test of time. Check out some of his songs below from his two best albums, and if you haven’t heard before, join with those that know and revere this great songwriter.<\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–Mortician’s Daughter<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/09-The-Morticians-Daughter.mp3|titles=09 The Mortician’s Daughter]<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Having spent scads of our early youth stamping tombstones in our grandfather’s monument shop, and having fallen for a few (Kansan and non-Kansan) lasses along the way, this song always takes us back and tears us asunder.\u00a0\u00a0 In our humble opinion this is one of the best songs ever written.\u00a0 Freedy sings of a lost-love who has passed on (perhaps from the planet, which makes the repeated lines, “Her father stands in the open door, he’s waiting for her,” that much more poignant).\u00a0 And when that Telecaster roils across that lake from 1:59-2:20, it never fails to chill.\u00a0 One for the ages.<\/p>\n

“I used to love the mortician’s daughter
\nWe drew our hearts on the dusty coffin lids
\nI grieve tonight over this letter
\nMy tears dissolve an image from the careful ink<\/p>\n

Her father stands in the open door
\nHe’s waiting for her<\/strong>
\nThere’s a storm blowing across the lake
\nIt’s late summer
\nOn the broken step is a cardboard box full of wilted flowers
\nShe whispers in my burning ear
\nIt doesn’t matter<\/p>\n

I used to love the mortician’s daughter
\nWe rolled in the warm grass by the bone yard fence
\nHer skin so white
\nThe first leaves falling
\nThis long forgotten night I am there again<\/p>\n

Her father stands in the open door
\nHe’s waiting for her<\/strong>
\nThere’s a ribbon printed with last respects
\nBlowing down the gutter
\nThe rain comes in she drops my hand
\nShe’s turning laughing
\nAnd I used to love the mortician’s daughter<\/p>\n

I used to love the mortician’s daughter
\nWe drew our hearts on the dusty coffin lids
\nThere’s a lonely dove out on the telephone wire
\nI turn my head and she flies away.”<\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–Trying to Tell You I Don’t Know<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/01-Trying-to-Tell-You-I-Dont-Know.mp3|titles=01 Trying to Tell You I Don’t Know]<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

This is the unabashed rocker previously alluded to in which Freedy sells regret for selling the family farm.\u00a0 Sold the map up to the sky??\u00a0 Sheer poetry in that sadness.\u00a0 The first stanza is “pert near” perfect, and the red light (recording studio) line speaks volumes:<\/p>\n

“Well I sold the dirt to feed the band
\nFalling right through my hands
\nYes I sold the map up to the sky
\nFalling down always try<\/strong><\/p>\n

Trying to wake up in your head (drive away, drive away)
\nTrying to cry with the red light on (drive away, drive away)
\nTrying to tell you I don’t know<\/p>\n

Well I sold the dirt and bought the road
\nLet me tell you right where we’re going
\nYes I sold the house where I learned to walk
\nFalling down always try<\/p>\n

Fifty bucks to use the van
\nTrying to find your city, man
\nTrying to get back my guitars
\nTrying to tell you I don’t know<\/p>\n

Well I sold the dirt for a song
\nBleeding on every note
\nYeah, I sold the map up to the sky<\/strong>
\nFalling down, always try<\/p>\n

Trying to sing what I can’t say
\nTrying to throw my head away
\nTrying to cry with the red light on
\nTrying to tell you I don’t know”<\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–Can You Fly
\n<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/07-Can-You-Fly1.mp3|titles=07 Can You Fly]<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

We love the languid musical feel of Can You Fly<\/em> and the magical realism of the lyrics.\u00a0 Who can figure the meaning?\u00a0 Is it a tornado vision, a fever dream, a prophet alighting?\u00a0 The cover photo speaks of a yearning to leave gravity’s pull.\u00a0 If it wasn’t so torpid, it might be a high-jumper’s perfect headphone psych-up.<\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–Responsible<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/08-Responsible.mp3|titles=08 Responsible]<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

In Responsible <\/em>Freedy captures well a father’s alternating woe and resentment as his daughter leaves the nest for the big city (“she has gone to New York City, through that arch [St. Louis] on a summer night”).\u00a0 The music has a loping groove that is infectious, and the slide guitar touches are tastefully impeccable.\u00a0 We love the stanza below and the false-finish at 4:19.\u00a0 And these seemingly spiteful lines never fail to take us aback:\u00a0 “Goodnight my dear, goodnight my cold little one, has your dream begun?”<\/p>\n

“It’s raining blossoms down in the concrete park
\nA girl walks in and out of the evening shade
\nA broken angel weeps through her spraypaint smile
\nNo tears can reach me while I know I’m not responsible”<\/strong><\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–Down in Love<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/11-Down-in-Love.mp3|titles=11 Down in Love]<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Down in Love <\/em><\/em>is a perfect duet between the talented Syd Straw and Freedy.\u00a0 We love this love-stained stanza in particular:<\/p>\n

“The day breaks down and cries a river
\nIt soaks me to my heart
\nDown in love I know they’re laughing
\nTearing us apart<\/p>\n

No more dreams for me.”<\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–Bad Reputation<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/01-Bad-Reputation2.mp3|titles=01 Bad Reputation]<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

In Freedy’s mid-tempo hit rocker, Bad Reputation, <\/em>we hear the artist’s honest self-assessment and a hope-beyond-hope that a mistreated lover might be foolish enough to take him back.<\/p>\n

“I know I’ve got a bad reputation
\nAnd it isn’t just talk, talk, talk
\nIf I could only give you everything
\nYou know I haven’t got”<\/p>\n

Freedy Johnston–This Perfect World<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

[audio:https:\/\/www.thelefortreport.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/04-This-Perfect-World1.mp3|titles=04 This Perfect World]<\/em><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

This Perfect World<\/em> can do no wrong in our musical songbook.\u00a0 Musically, the acoustic guitar, electric jangle and cello are a perfect meld in support of Freedy’s expressive vocals.\u00a0 Lyrically, the song falls somewhere between Raymond Carver and Raymond Chandler, and in a scant 4:34 Freedy eloquently embodies a father speaking his last words to his daughter after the death (murder, suicide?) of her mother.\u00a0 It’s a harrowing tale with a clearly sarcastic title.\u00a0 Short story soundtrack and tour de force.\u00a0 It was also featured in the movie, Kingpin.<\/em><\/p>\n

“You oughta see your face
\nYou oughta hear your voice
\nLast time I was here I wouldn’t turn around<\/p>\n

You oughta lock that door
\nSomebody might get in
\nDidn’t I teach you that<\/p>\n

This perfect world
\nSo blue I can’t begin to say
\nThis perfect world
\nI know I never should have gone away<\/p>\n

But I still deserve to say goodbye no matter what I’ve done
\nNo matter what I’ve done<\/p>\n

I see her in your face
\nHear her in your voice
\nLast time I was here they’d found her in the lake<\/p>\n

You oughta see my scar
\nYou think I’m made of stone
\nDidn’t you tell me that?<\/p>\n

This perfect world
\nSo blue I can’t begin to say
\nThis perfect world
\nThey say that soon I will be gone away<\/p>\n

But I still deserve to say goodbye no matter what I’ve done
\nNo matter what I’ve done<\/p>\n

This perfect world
\nThis perfect world
\nNow I’ve come around it’s far too late
\nAnd these pills won’t even let me cry
\nNo one knows you even when you’re gone
\nBut I still deserve to say goodbye no matter what I’ve done
\nNo matter what I’ve done<\/p>\n

You oughta see your face
\nYou oughta hear your voice
\nLock this after me”<\/p>\n