Andrew Darlington's four star review of"Joy & Mischief" appears in the July 2014 issue of the British music magazine'R2: Rock 'n' Reel Vol.2 No.46..Joy And Mischief(JOHN LYLE)Ch-ch-ch-changes. The Movers and the Shakers do it this way. The marketing model for the best new music. You write your songs. You make your CD. Then you get people to listen. John is based in British Columbia, but he’s on your Facebook page too. His are heart-shiveringly cracked songs in sparse settings, done as intimate as a session in your front-room. Some critics draw comparisons with Leonard Cohen, but no, John’s more human than Laughing Len. More accessible. There’s joy and there’s lived-in experience in each bruised quiver of vocals. A languorous resigned mischief at the way of things. Dextrous guitars interplay playfully, with rag-timey picking, a raspy keening harmonica and a knowing Blues edge to ‘Nothin’ Nobody Can Do’. He’s a natural storyteller, engaged with the word – to the extent his lyrics are in his The Kindest Lies book from Leaky Boot Press, such as the weary Western lament ‘There’s A Hole In My Lariat’, laced with wry irony. ‘Sweet Little Sister’ has that antique simple catchiness of an old-timey John Sebastian song. This is the latest in a straight-A series of highly individual albums. Joy And Mischief is well worth your attention.Andrew DarlingtonDon’t Go Down to Shanty TownSometimes they live in the citySometimes they live in the townSometimes they live whereThere’s nothin’ to give butTo fall at the feet of the proudDon’t go down to shanty townNeedles hide in the grassDon’t go down to shanty townWhere nothing comes to passThat one is somebody’s brotherThat one is bare to the boneThat one’s so damnedBy the blood of the lamb she willNever be blessed with a homeDon’t go down to shanty townNeedles hide in the grassDon’t go down to shanty townWhere nothing comes to passDon’t try to give them your moneyDon’t try to tell them you care They know your heart Is afraid of the dark they canTell by the clothes that you wearDon’t go down to shanty townNeedles hide in the grassDon’t go down to shanty townWhere nothing comes to pass