This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Boomkat Product Review:
With the kind of name you often see popping up on TV shows like 'What The Victorians Did For Us' as the inventor of the first egg whisk, John Webster Johns is a member of the wandering songwriters guild; with this debut solo LP recorded in bits and bobs over the past 2 years in LA, NYC, Boston and Chicago. A member of some gloriously silly named bands (Charlemaignes, Poworld, and Flesh Unitard amongst them), Johns is following in the cultural footprints of America's wandering history, recorded here in scratchy posterity. Broadly comparable to Tom Waits or even Nick Drake, John Webster John starts off in familiar territories; i.e. songs from the bottom of a bourbon bottle. Opening with the scratchy acoustic recording of 'Friends', Johns soon moves onto dusty beauty on 'Black Morning' before going all falsetto in a Devendra stylee on the deceptively slight 'Happy Times'. With all but one song weighing it at less than 2 minutes, Johns ensures that nothing outstays its welcome, a policy that also sees him delivering more ideas per pound that most singer songwriters manage in a whole career. Embarking on forays into avant-glam ('Yjukilol'), sound collages ('Son') and plain weird noise experiments/multi-vocal lullabies ('Simons Pressure'), John Webster Johns is an aural mirror to an ADD generation.