What to call “Baby Man,” the latest outing by Fruit Bats, the one-man act that is actually singer-songwriter Eric D. Johnson?
Recorded in a spare room over 10 days back in January 2025, this 10-song collection finds the Midwest native accompanying himself with the barest piano or guitar accompaniment, with an occasional synth wash thrown in for good measure. It’s intimate in both its arrangements and the subject matter, be it existential introspection, love and loss or the passing of a beloved pet.
Literally the essence of the bedroom pop genre, “Baby Man” is a lo-fi exercise in execution that retains sonic richness thanks to Johnson’s collaboration with producer Thom Monahan. What makes the 11th Fruit Bats studio recording so intriguing is how far the results landed from its creator’s initial creative intentions.
“This was initially supposed to be a midterm project — something low-key, maybe some covers and other songs done lo-fi in my bedroom,” Johnson recalled.
“I started writing some and thought it shouldn’t be covers and tossed-off songs. It became a thing where I was going to write all of this over the course of making it. A lot of times, my songs are fragments of ideas that take about a year to put together. I don’t have a hard and fast rule, but it turned into a mandate of minimalism as well. Of course, having Thom Monahan on board, his sonic skill is far from minimalist, so it’s sort of big-sounding in some ways with very simple layers.”
The duo’s relationship dates back 20 years, when both were involved in the San Francisco indie folk scene that included Devendra Banhart, Vetiver and Papercuts. Having worked on a number of Fruit Bats records together, the twosome maintained a friendship despite not having recorded together since 2019’s “Gold Past Life.”
“I think I could have done this alone and had it be intimate and lo-fi, but it probably wouldn’t have sounded as well,” Johnson said.
“Because of our friendship, you can make a vulnerable kind of music in front of someone you feel comfortable being vulnerable around. Not that I couldn’t have done that with someone else, it was just way easier with him. It was like having a family member there. We also have new bags of tricks we may have amassed during that time, so that was cool and really fun.”
The name Fruit Bats came from random words he posted on cassette tapes. The cozy nature of “Baby Man” has translated well for Johnson in a live setting on a current slate of dates that is winding down. Hitting the stage with nothing more than a guitar, harmonica and a minimal keyboard set-up, the juxtaposition of not playing with a full band has made for some pleasant surprises from both sides of the mic.
“It’s just me for 90 to 100 minutes doing a lot of these ‘Baby Man songs,’” Johnson explained. “People have generally been seated and very quiet. At a Fruit Bats show, it’s pretty fun and kind of a party atmosphere.
“This is a very different animal from what people might be used to at these shows. I’m playing these nice theaters and it’s an opportunity for me to play some deeper back-catalog stuff if people request it and there is a little request moment.
“It’s fun and a little bit different every night because every audience is kind of a different organism every night. The easy answer is it’s me, but it’s quiet and vulnerable. A few times I’d play and go backstage afterwards and ask my manager how long I’d played for and it was like an hour and 45 minutes. I’d go into a bit of a trance at times because I’d think I’d be playing for about an hour or something like that. There’s no opening act, so I figured I’d better give them their money’s worth.”
Johnson’s music roots date back to a Midwestern upbringing where he was weaned on plenty of ‘70s and ‘80s radio hits (Men at Work’s 1983 sophomore bow “Cargo” was the first album the then-seven-year-old definitely asked for and received) and his first concert experience was catching Def Leppard on the “Hysteria” album tour at Wisconsin’s Alpine Music Theater.
“And while he first took the stage in high school as a rhythm guitarist in his friend’s band after demurring from initially being asked to be the group’s singer (“I was too frightened to stand there at the microphone and asked my friend Steve to teach me some guitar chords. It was the function of fear of being a front man”), the Grateful Dead proved to be a major creative inflection point.
“Freshman year of high school my friend went to their concert and came back with a tie-dye on and patchouli and I was like, ‘What the hell is that?,” he said. “Then I got ‘Skeletons From the Closet’ on tape and went to see them the following summer in ’91 and was totally enchanted. By ’95, I was 19 and following them around.
“As a burgeoning songwriter, I thought this Robert Hunter guy was pretty good. I’ve sort of been a beneficiary of being a Deadhead who has never played a guitar solo. I appreciate them as a band with an incredible songwriting prowess. I love the jamming — I love everything.”
With a new full-band still-unnamed Fruit Bats album set to drop in June (“It’s an emotional companion piece to ‘Baby Man’,” Johnson said), he is continuing to do what feels right, trends be damned. While he says the advice of just being yourself is a bit of a cliché, it’s a north star that’s served him well.
“My advice to younger musicians, not to quote my own advice as I don’t claim to be this font of wisdom, is not wanting to know the odds,” he said. “Just do your thing because if you’re doing it for anyone other than yourself and your own spirit — maybe it’ll work, but if it doesn’t, at least you died trying.”
Fruit Bats plays the Rio Theatre 8pm Jan.30,205 Soquel Ave. Santa Cruz. Tickets $42-$58.
