One of the most striking things about the latest (and final) set of Free Design reissues is the flawless, almost too perfect sense of style. The colors of the inner CD booklets are bright, practically joyous (and psychedelic), but with a soft tint-- pleasant rather than brash. And just as the band decks its sleeves in flawlessly crafted fonts and color-combinations, the music contained therein hums and writhes in counterpoint with sunshine precision. It's not so much that their songs were "technical"; rather, they were like smooth-edged, powder-blue pebbles in a jewelry store-- not as immediately demanding of attention as some of their diamond-studded contemporaries (Simon & Garfunkel, the Beach Boys), but somehow even more purely expressive, if in a precious, idealized way. These records (1970's Sing For Very Important People, 1971's One By One, and 1972's There Is a Song) track their movement into almost mystical "easy listening", quite possibly too much for some punk-baptized listeners. Still, like rare stones, the Free Design remind me how classic beauty and form can still be interesting.
Sing For Very Important People is something of a children's album, replete with songs about cowboys, Sesame Street, familiar Free Design pastimes of kites, bubbles and even a short lullaby at the end. According to Bruce Dedrick (who would leave the band following this record), the album was partially inspired by Mary Travers becoming a mother (she of big folk-pop players Peter, Paul & Mary)-- if that seems twee, just remember Belle & Sebastian named themselves after a French kid's show. Chris Dedrick's opener "Don't Cry, Baby" uses lightly melancholy, but just as exquisitely placed vocal harmonies to impart its message of perseverance and love. Again, if the message matters to you, you might find yourself balking at the total lack of irony or edge. Yet, as on "Children's Waltz" and "Lullaby", the wave of pastel, hymnal harmonies are hard to deny on aesthetic grounds. About half the record contains previously released songs, which could take steam out of its impact for fans (or collectors), but even then, songs like "Kites Are Fun" and "Bubbles" are some of the best the band produced.
The following year's One By One is more muted and more emotional. The songs seem a bit more personal ("One By One", "Friendly Man"), and the harmony arrangements are less ornate, grayer. However, I was initially surprised at how much I was digging the "Light My Fire" cover. For the Free Design, it'd become this jazzy, psych-lounge odyssey that should have been playing during the love scenes in all the bizarre sci-fi think pieces big at the time. Another oddity: what are A-list jazz guys Billy Cobham, Randy Brecker and Bob Mann doing on a Free Design record? "Felt So Good" (and the less convincing "Go Lean on a River") is kind of a clean version of the big band rock made infamous by Blood, Sweat & Tears, given a kick by the heavyweight ringers. My faves are the title track, "Friendly Man" and "Going Back", the latter of which should probably be copied and branded by Rufus Wainwright ASAP.
There Is a Song was released in 1972, and was the Free Design's last album before reuniting for 2001's Cosmic Peekaboo. Dedrick had moved to Canada, found a spiritual mentor and made a record that is the band's most introspective. You might imagine that a somber Free Design would sound pretty interesting, and in places, they do. Their version of "Kum Ba Yah" (I know) is actually cool, something like the Partridge Family gone shoegaze. And to overcome any weirdness I might have regarding songs about Canada, "Canada in Springtime" uses a bright folk-pop arrangement Jim O'Rourke should wound for. "Chorale" and "Fugue" end the album on down notes, which seem particularly heavy considering the band wouldn't record for almost 30 years afterward. Another example of the starker, darker (if not necessarily colder) sound of There Is a Song compared to the other records is the pained, pretty version of the classic jazz ballad "A Child Is Born".
Issued at the same time as these albums (all of which sound incredible, by the way-- the Free Design were a pristinely recorded band) is a 12" of remixes with Danger Mouse & Murs, Caribou, Stereolab, the High Llamas, and Super Furry Animals. Caribou's epic brew of electro-psychedelia is my fave, though in general, the mixes aren't as interesting as the originals. Maybe they're supposed to make the band seem more relevant, but I think the albums do enough for themselves that fans of light pop or folk in general should be interested. The Free Design were a rare find in pop: light but not empty, pleasant but not indistinct, technically complex but unabashedly melodic. That's always a good listen.
