Ady Johnson

"This sound is just a pop song, I can never say all I wanna say." There's a lot of thoughts swimming around the self-critical ocean of Ady Johnsons mind, although his specialism was formerly in antique restoration, he sometimes finds it more difficult to fix his own securities, as exemplified by the lyrics on his contemplative debut album Tell The Worry Dolls. It was a form of musical therapy ("You listen to my woes and all that life throws"- Jewelly Box) in which Johnson's worries were unleashed sometimes in the form of fantastical riddles ("She cried gold") or sometimes so specific that they needed to be assisted with an unreleased autobiography of his life.

"Ok, there can be no escape, the answer is to move away.." from Pink Flamingos was one of many suggestions that showed his desire for escapism rather than facing the problems head on. Calling himself a "blind fool", "wondering around in despair", defensive, feeling "disgraced" and unable to resist the temptations of a "cherry red" lipstick lady, Ady Johnson seemed like a broken man on the verge of deterioration-like one of his previous jobs assignments and the indecisive message was made more clearer by the instinctive vocal range that would drastically characterize from calm and meditative like a state of Simon and Garfunkel to angry and frustrated like a classic hard rock anthem. The latter being stressed with a deep husky accent and the former on the edge of falsetto when it wasn't a middle-of-the-range mix of Mick Hucknall and early Elton John. The tools in his melancholy toolbox were similar to his silent-successful band FuzzFace, including whiskey-drenched harmonicas but he substituted their beloved Hammond Organ and indie punk leanings for a focus on skilled melodic folk acoustics -sometimes scratchy and complex- uniquely matched with peaceful saxophone, shy violins, metallic percussion,The Godfather-esque mandolin and a contemporary blues-country-folk atmosphere that resembles Billy Momo.

As Ady Johnson once said on the purposely misspelt Jewelly Box, maybe he needs "a friend to guide" him. Luckily for him on his new EP Thank You For The Good Things, that friend is the Mercury-Prize-winning producer Gerry Drive. Drive's excellence was shown through the measured approach of adding little touches of quirk in Sam Lee's Ground Of It's Own (hear the squishy didgeridoo) and Lisa Knapp's Wild and Undaunted (exterior ambiance) that didn't distract from the true organic nature of the folk. He has toned down the histrionics but the new found appreciation for life and the grounded down-to-earth bravery that means he prefers to stand up to his demons is something that Ady Johnson is responsible for himself. It's possibly a product of the four-year-gap, the distraction of making film soundtracks, including for the science fiction short film The Last Man -despite the lonesome association of it's storyline but most importantly the passing of his grandfather.

On the title track Thank You For The Good Things, Johnson shows immense gratitude to his late relative for giving him a proud opportunity in the restoration industry: "you gave me a good trade...that I hope will live on in me." However, he is also ambivalent and questions whether he made the right decision to become a musician: " I'm told I have your blessing but there are some times that I am not too proud about it but i'll strive to do what you think is right." It begins with minimal instrumentation, a delicate strum of an acoustic guitar with Johnson pronouncing like Conor O'Brien (Villagers), yet it progresses like a children's story with instruments appearing as personality-filled characters: the stamping elephant tuba, the nervous guinea pig violin, tap-dancing horses and Ady Johnson's favourite harmonica. It ends with a found sound of classical music being heard on the radio of a busy antique restoration workshop, a nice touch from the producer who wants to reflect his two conflicting passions.

Unfortunately the rest of the EP is not quite as thrilling or circus-like musically but country-folk The Whale Song-which is somewhere between Bob Dylan and his muse Jake Bugg- feels intimate because of it's transparent production, lively with it's energetic guitar trickery and contains surreal lyrics about a "whale in the sky, the cloud is it's body and the moon is it's tie." It's feels like an afterthought lyrically- even it fits with the same children's mentality as the title track and is similarity metaphorical like Tell The Worry Dolls' Magpie- is too short and his voice is unpleasantly lazy but at least it shows that he's more free-spirited now. The middle tracks The Glass Tower and Wired Like You are strictly acoustic and forgettable, with the latter being the most simplistic song in his catalogue thus far. Ady Johnson hasn't quite reached his goal of optimistic monk-like enlightenment but he is analyzing potential methods: "somehow you smile when times are rough when others give up. I wish I was wired like you... I'll try to fix it, if you give me the key."

This EP might just be something that Ady Johnson needs to release as another therapeutic act of momentary thoughts - which is a shame after a four-year-wait and furthermore it won't add exposure to a current lack of internet coverage of his music career.