the above-mentioned Asylummates (and with Michael Nesmith too) is a spiritual link to Poco-Burrito, and a thorough immersion in California Clean. He is tight but unabrasive, thoughtful but not ponderous, loose but somehow too neat to ever really let go. But John David's winning extra is a strong dose of country heartbreak that keeps him sounding passionate, if a mite antiquated, while he devotes himself to subjects like drowning his sorrow in fast tunes on a jukebox, or the shame of having cheated ("Oh, how sweet the wine of desire") on his best friend.

John David's first album, like Jackson's, sounds good to begin with and gets better with age. The first cut is "The Fast One," a terrific opener that would've made an A-1 debut single had it not been considered too country to have national appeal; "How Long," equally catchy but less readily categorized, should do just as well. "Run like a Thief," the moderate tear-jerker about having wronged a pal, is slow and relaxed, with the kind of melody that sticks even after the lyrics wear thin. "Jesus in 3/4 Time," "Nobody Knows," and the autobiographical "Out to Sea" are also well worth knowing about. Like almost every cut here, they have the kind of singularity that shows up only gradually, but lasts all the longer for its delicacy.

All this is not meant to suggest that John David himself is overly delicate, or that he sounds even half as temper-mentally pin-eyed and depressed as (judging from the jacket) he looks. The whole album is surprisingly animated, thanks to lively production that includes some fine overdubbed backup voices which sound like the Eagles but are all John David's. All things considered, everything here works smoothly enough to make this the kind of first album that doesn't even sound like a first album, which is to say that good things are expected in the future of John David Souther. (RS 120)

JANET MASLIN