After a gap of a mere nine months, Eric D. Johnson returns with a new Fruit Bats offering – the americana world should rejoice.
We really need to get something out of the way immediately. The song From a Soon-to-Be Ghost Town which appeared on the 2016 Fruit Bats record Absolute Loser, is among the all-time favourite songs at AUK towers; this alone makes the release of a new Fruit Bats album a big deal around here. That said, it’s fair to say that not all of Fruit Bats’ output over the years has quite reached the same elevated standards as that one particular song.
Fruit Bats is the project of one Eric D. Johnson, who is also a member (along with Anaïs Mitchell and Josh Kaufman) of Bonny Light Horseman and previously of The Shins. Fruit Bats doesn’t have a lineup as such, beyond Johnson (the only constant member), with the roster being somewhat fluid in terms of band members over time. Fruit Bats can certainly be classed as a long-term undertaking for Johnson, starting as it did as a home recording project in the late 20th century. The first long player released under the Fruit Bats banner was 2001’s Echolocation, an album containing 12 self-penned songs. Fast forward to today, and Johnson can look back on a Fruit Bats album discography which includes studio and live albums as well as compilations, which numbers in the teens.
Following on from 2025’s release Baby Man (essentially a Johnson solo record release under the Fruit Bats moniker), Johnson returns to the full band format with The Landfill. Johnson suggests that although there is an ongoing thread from the songs on Baby Man, he very much wanted to return to the more collaborative world of band work. Baby Man was written and recorded in a very short period of time, essentially completed within two weeks, but the creative process didn’t conclude at that point; Johnson instead continued to write. In a departure from much of Johnson’s previous songwriting, in general, the songs which appear on The Landfill were introduced to the band and the studio environment in a far less finished form than usual, the result being that the music of some of the songs ended up being co-written with band members. Johnson describes The Landfill as “…both a very personal record, and my most collaborative to date.”
With recording taking place at Bear Creek Studios in Woodinville, Washington State, a studio that has previously hosted acts such as Brandi Carlile, Train, Soundgarden, Foo Fighters, Goo Goo Dolls and The Secret Sisters, production was handled by Johnson himself. In addition to Johnson singing and playing various instruments, the musicians featured include David Dawda on bass, John Mease (guitars), Dawes touring band member Frank LoCrasto (keys) and Kosta Galanopoulos on drums and percussion, as well as Owen Thayer on pedal steel, and Renata Zeiguer contributing violin and viola.
The Landfill sees Johnson working more in a similar way to how he has worked with Bonny Light Horseman, the recordings capturing the band live in the studio for the most part, with some manual overdubs to touch up here and there. The record benefits from a less congested sound than on most of the band’s output, which has the benefit of letting the songs breathe and the lyrics come to the fore.
The record commences with The Saddest Part of the Song, which is very negative; somebody obviously frustrates Johnson, and he wants them to know it, concluding with the lines “Found every little turn to take wrong to get to the saddest part of the song, Didn’t you?” Next up is Think Aboutcha, which has a very catchy melody, over piano and electric guitar, and a guitar solo that grabs your attention.
That Goddamn Sun is one of a few highlights on the LP, with some great lyrics, including “Look at those California poppies, Look at that mama spider crawlin’ up a bougainvillea vine, I still think about you when it’s rainin’, and I’m sittin’ around waiting, for that goddamn sun to finally come and shine“. There are some “Oohs” in the song that can remind of Miranda Lambert’s Bluebird, but ultimately don’t distract you from the song at hand.
The absolute standout cut, though, is Silverfish in the Sink, which is a bit of a masterpiece. Starting with vocals backed by a piano that sounds like it’s positioned at the far end of a longish corridor, eventually there’s some guitar and drums, and suddenly the piano seems to be closer (perhaps the keys are being hit harder), before we go back to the distant piano but now with a cymbal. As well as the sound of bird song, this song features Johnson’s best vocal on the album: “There’s music coming from the place next door, It’s that kid who tape-records the radio, Hear him curse the Lord and pace the floor, He hates his dad, who hates him back.”
It’s the title track (a song which preceded the album’s release as a single) that brings the album to a close. An uptempo number, the lyrics suggest that a landfill mound offers a useful vantage point: “Lookin’ down from the landfill, I can see the city lights a-shimmerin’, And it’s like a holy vision, of what could be, and couldn’t be, and could have been.”
AUK readers who are new to Johnson’s work may find it takes a short while to warm to his vocals, but once tuned in, it’s easy to appreciate the warmth and sheer expressiveness of the voice; it’s such a feature of the Fruit Bats’ sound. This, along with the memorable melodies and strong hooks, allied to Johnson’s sharp, well-written lyrics, makes this record a compelling listen.
