Josh Johnson’s new album, “Unusual Object,” his second solo album, is a work of total invention and self-reliance. Johnson—who’s played with Makaya McCraven, Jeff Parker, Carlos Niño, and so many others—released an incredible debut album, “Freedom Exercise,” back in 2020 (which featured Anna Butterss, Gregory Uhlmann, and Aaron Steele). Where “Freedom Exercise” was Johnson in composer and band leader mode, “Unusual Object” is something else: Johnson as world-builder, tightrope walker, frontier explorer. All the sounds on the album, with the exception of a drum sample on one track, come from Johnson, his sax, pedals, manipulations. A lot of the tracks on the album were recorded from live performances, and you can see some amazing videos of Johnson playing some of this music in concert. There’s a kind of mindblowing self-sufficiency to this album that brings to my mind possibly far-fetched comparisons like the “New Yankee Workshop”—the confidence, talent, technique, and drive to create something beautiful wholly by yourself.
The whole album is a wonder. “Who Happens If,” the opener, is a short, pretty tune, Johnson harmonizing with himself on sax (as he does on most of the tracks) and running through a playful, inquisitive phrase over the course of a minute and a half. That leads into “Marvis,” the longest song on the album and one of the best. “Marvis” starts with a beat, then Johnson’s doubled sax comes in, a little more relaxed, playing against himself, beside himself. Throughout the album, Johnson shows such a great knack for switching up his style and his tone—sometimes laidback, smooth, other times aggressive, powerful, forceful. At 2:48 through “Marvis,” there’s a really cool delay treatment on Johnson’s sax that makes it sound like it’s somehow been deflated, emptied of energy, like he’s suddenly playing a child’s toy instead of a real instrument. The last half of the song features a sound like a guitar (a sax masquerading as a guitar?), strumming weakly, stuttering, and then Johnson’s untreated sax joins in, frantic, ascending, taking the tune into a swirling, fidgety conclusion.
“Quince” begins with one note on the sax that turns into a background drone, on top of which Johnson plays in expressive filigrees. A beat rises up about a minute into the track, along with a lower bass drone. Johnson’s sax separates here into multi-part harmonized sections. His solo on this one, which starts around 3:25 through the track, is so impressive, not least because it melts back into the harmonized sax part at its conclusion. Toward the end of the track, what sounds like a synth drone comes in to meet up with the sax harmonies, a gorgeous ending.
“Reddish,” like “Who Happens If,” is a deceptively simple track. An insanely pretty track. It’s one of those pieces of music that feels like tossed-off brilliance. Like Johnson’s warming up before a show, and he just happens to run through this cycle of riffs. It feels so organic and exploratory—like someone working their way out of a maze, trying different routes to a destination. Truly awesome.
As great as “Reddish” is, “Sterling” might be my favorite track on the album. Built from a pulsating sax loop, key-clattering, and noisy outburst, the track lurches along wildly for almost two minutes until everything drops out but that initial pulsating sax loop. Over this, Johnson blows some sinister tones, on top of which he adds some of the most eloquent and impassioned playing on the album, a declaration of a solo.
“All Alone,” the final track on the album, is another stunner. It starts with a bubbly synth (it sounds a little like something from Jeremiah Chiu’s great work with the synths at the Vintage Synthesizer Museum on “In Electric Time”) that then gives way to a kind of organ drone and Johnson’s sax, which here sounds mournful, resigned, but also deliberate and controlled. Johnson’s sax seems closely miked on this one, so you really hear the breath going through the woodwind, the clack of the pads, and it reminds me of one of my favorite things about great music—the way it can convey through sound the tactile enjoyment of playing an instrument, the satisfaction in producing incredible sound. Johnson’s sax falls away and it all winds down in the last minute, the synth, the drone, a low distorted buzz.