Barnes & Noble
Things never seem to go all that well in Freedy Johnston's world, which is just as well, considering how perfectly his high-lonesome tenor is suited to the tales of woe that emanate from within its confines. On this, his sixth album, the Kansas-bred singer-songwriter is still wearing his heart on his sleeve, but that sleeve is cloaked in fabrics a bit more plush than those that fans have grown accustomed to. The smoky-sounding "Save Yourself, Country Girl" pits a cautionary tale against a subtle, jazz-influenced backing, while the feather-light "Radio for Heartache" drifts along on amber waves of banjo. Devotees of Johnston's earlier material won't feel like they're in totally unfamiliar territory, though. The sad-sack sing-along "Broken Mirror" chugs on in a manner similar to that of his mid-'90s demi-hit "Bad Reputation," as does the unusually bright-toned "That's Alright with Me" (which could, in the right hands, find a niche at country radio). If that doesn't sound like enough stylistic stretching, Johnston even tries his hand at good old-fashioned bubblegum in the form of a cover of Edison Lighthouse's "Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes" that's sure to make you -- and maybe even Freedy himself -- crack a smile. David Sprague
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
Blender
If success can happen to David Gray, maybe it can happen to Johnston, too.
Steve Matteo