Bar None Records has released a disc of Freedy's 4 track demos from way on back in the 80's/90's. It's called The Way I Were, has 14 previously unreleased songs, and should make an excellent New Year's resolution.
Filter Magzine says: "There are few artists that have a hidden treasure trove of unreleased songs from their early years that are of the quality of Freedy Johnston's. Now, at long last he offers them to the listening public. The 14 previously unreleased songs on The Way I Were reveal missing moments from 1988-1991, and provide a wonderful complement to his Bar/None and Elektra release."
Would you like to listen to it? Freedy will let you stream the whole album, for your pleasure, by clicking the link below. Requires Quicktime, available here.
"These recordings, none of which has appeared before, reveal the artist before the quirks got smoothed over; the ramshackle production is more ’Mats (as in Replacements) than MOR. Occasionally, as on the sing-song "Happy Birthday," Freedy sounds as unhinged as that other Johnston, Daniel. But most of these tunes cut deep. On "I Got the Papers Right Here," a scorned lover serves notice that "this time the bill of love/Isn’t gonna clear." "The Enchanted Car" is actually a trap, a "cancelled coupe on worn-out wheels." As for "Captain Astro," he "lived alone on his own planet. . . . I was too young to see the seams/His cardboard ship/And checkbook eyes." For many artists, nothing is what it seems. For Freedy Johnston, everything is exactly what it is." -- Boston Phoenix
"If you’re up for the challenge, however, The Way I Were — a collection of Johnston’s self-produced 4-track demos from 1986 to 1992 — is an excellent antidote to the festering mediocrity of contemporary pop. Like odd Jungian postcards, many of the 14 tracks here have the quality of a waking dream; otherworldly lyrics that explore empty places (“Light of Doubt”) or, seemingly, unconscious love (“The Enchanted Car”) demonstrate Johnston’s formidable skill at crafting rock ’n’ roll or even country turns. Strangely, this collection’s weakest, “She’s a Goddess” — which finds the singer mewling a la John Mayer on a bum trip about the intoxicating charms of some babe — opens the album. But what follows more than makes up for the bumbling start and, even in its weirdest moments (like “Happy Birthday” — a wacky call-and-response wherein affected “friends” expound on the nature of their birthday presents), these highly-listenable, artfully produced demos never fail to entertain." -- Detroit Metrotimes
