EASIN' ON DOWN THE ROAD: Jon Call.

Right now, though, Call is floating somewhere in the middle of that trajectory, having reached the stage where he’s added to his live performance a bass and drums, known as the Foundation (which is fitting for a rhythm section), but also about to release a disc, The Playtime Music Session, that features just Call’s breathy alto (maybe he’s a high tenor) and a strummed guitar.

This isn’t entirely by design. “It was kind of supposed to be more of a demo,” Call says of the recording done with Tom Dube down in his Playtime Music Studio in Massachusetts, “but then Dube went on tour with Marc Cohn and we didn’t get together again.” Still, Call’s been getting some good gigs, including opening for Livingston Taylor on January 25 at Lewiston's Maple Room. He needed something to sell at shows, and 2006’s Change just wasn’t of the quality he wanted to represent him.

Thus, while he may eventually re-record some of these songs with a band in a studio setting, he’s relatively happy with what he calls this recording’s “live feeling.” And it’s true that when you see Call live, this is pretty much what you get. But listening at home, Call’s considerable charisma doesn’t quite come through, and what are well-written songs at times fall a little flat, or simply seem to last too long. Live, that extra minute in a song is enjoyable, because you’ve got that visual input as an augmentation of the experience. On disc, some of the tunes that move past four minutes could probably be a little more radio-friendly (i.e., closer to 3:30).

This also has something to do with Call’s particular style and delivery. He has a tendency to use “I said” as pick-up notes into a line of a verse, or in building a refrain, for example, emulating soul singers like Sam Cooke or James Brown. He bangs on his guitar, building a rhythm and a considerable backing. He likes to tip in a bit of scat for a bridge. All of these, I think, are more endearing live.

And some performers, like John Mayer or Ani DiFranco, are just better live.

There remains, however, a lot to like on Call’s sophomore disc. Especially when Call lets his hair down and opens his voice up. Early in the disc, he can be breathy, but he’s got great timbre when he gets animated, especially on later tracks like “Addiction Song” and “All I Ever Wanted.” The former opens with a bluesy strut then picks up with a low-end bass-string run that introduces each line of the verse: “You gotta be a fool to want to stay the same.” Then comes a big bridge, a declaration of intent: “I need to be free of this misery that’s loving me/’Cuz if I choose to learn I can grow — eventually.”

He carries that intensity into “Wanted.” It’s like he has entered a trance and is speaking in tongues at some points, but the chorus is huge: “Somewhere over your heart there’s love/Somewhere inside your hear there’s gotta be a little bit of trust/And if you let down your walls/I’ll let down my walls for you.” He varies his delivery and cadence here especially well, leaving all kinds of room for a listener get inside his lines and embrace them.

Perhaps most redeemingly, Call does have an ability to deliver a line that really and truly memorable. “My Ship” requires some suspension of cynicism (am I the only one who thinks “Would it break my mast?/How long will this little ship last” is a dirty little couplet?), but see if your heart doesn’t break a little when Call sings, “I said last year’s gone babe/It’s time to go.”

Call has all the tools to be a great bandleader — charisma, songwriting, a knack with a love song, and a way with a guitar — and many of them are on display here. His fans won’t be disappointed when they take this album home and give it a spin after they’ve bought it at a show, but Call is going to need to fill his sound out for the radio and repeated online listens.

On the Web
Jon Call: www.joncallmusic.com

Sam Pfeifle can be reached at sam_pfeifle@yahoo.com .