Despite the obvious assumption, there is no Freddy Jones in the Freddy Jones Band. |

According to vocalist/guitarist Wayne Healy, the group arrived at the name after a random search through the phone book. At least that's what he's saying today. Yesterday he claimed they named themselves after a man who crossed Lake Michigan in an inner tube. The day before that he said Freddy Jones was a disgruntled tollbooth worker they met on the road. Lord only knows what tomorrow will bring.

"It's our version of the Rubik's Cube," laughs Healy. "No one will ever be able to figure it out, but everyone seems to want to play with it. It's sort of like the Pink Floyd thing, ya know? Who was Pink?"

Here are the facts: The Freddy Jones Band is a five-piece from Chicago with a sound that falls somewhere between the Allman Brothers and the Dave Matthews Band. The quintet toes the fine line between schizophrenic jam band and sensibly minded pop-rock act. Their new album A Mile High-Live, recorded during last year's string of West Coast dates, perfectly captures the electric elasticity of a Jones show, cooking up a home-fried fusion of blues, rock, funk and folk without sacrificing the ever-important hook.

Laughs co-guitarist/vocalist Marty Lloyd, "If it helps, try to imagine a more rockin' version of Hootie & the Blowfish."

Former Loyola University classmates Healy and Lloyd created the band in the early Nineties and quickly became a fixture on the college circuit. Encouraged by the positive reaction to their live show, they quickly dropped out of school and hit the road in a dilapidated old van.

"It really wasn't that tough of a decision for me," says Lloyd. "I was majoring in communications by day, and playing music around town at night. Realizing that I was cheating all aspects of my life by not concentrating on any one thing, I decided to do the band full time."

Luckily, the dropouts eased their parents fears by releasing a self-titled indie album that went on to sell more than 10,000 copies -- just enough to attract the attention of Capricorn Records. Six years, four albums and an AOR hit later (1993's "In a Daydream"), the Joneses have carved themselves a nice little niche and amassed a loyal and sizeable Deadhead-like following.

"Still," recalls Healy, "My father was not happy with my career choice. He owned his own construction company and was grooming my brother and I to one day take it over. I just didn't want to be one of those kids that everyone looks at and says, 'Oh, he's successful because his father handed everything to him.' I was young and stupid and wanted to show my father that I could make it on my own. My brother owns the company today and it's worth over $50 million, but that's okay. All I ever wanted to do was play music for people, travel and earn a decent living. So far it's worked out pretty good for all of us."

MICHAEL MOSES(May 8, 1999)