I never would have guessed it, but John Mayer's latest album (His fifth, I believe) is good. Really good. And here I was thinking I was done with that crazy cat. Seriously, I thought I'd hopped the John Mayer bandwagon a few years ago. It's nothing against him, though. Well, mostly. When he was younger he seemed earnest, funny, and eager to please in the way that all young talent tends to be. As he's grown older he's come across as more of a pompous dick, but, regardless, I'd actually been a fan of his for quite some time. From the modest, inconsequential pop rock of Room for Squares to the more mature, bluesier Continuum, Mayer has struck me as quite the musical talent and, despite his standing with all the 'hip' music fans who dismiss his tunes as simplistic pop bullshit, I've always been quick to defend his unmistakable guitar-wielding prowess. The guy made good music and I enjoyed it. So sue me.
My admiration for Mr. Mayer grew even more after I'd seen the concert film/documentary Where the Light Is. The documentary follows Mayer as he plays a solo acoustic set followed by a set with his always spectacular John Mayer Trio, which featuring the talents of master drummer Steve Jordan and the ever so brilliant bassist Pino Palladino. One of the greatest choices that Mayer has made in his musical career was choosing to recruit these two phenomenal musicians to accompany him on stage. Stripping the blues down to their basic fundamentals, they manage to capture what makes them so great. It's kind of funny that the guy who sang such nonsense as 'Your Body is a Wonderland' could play the blues in a way they haven't been played since the days of old, but you have to see it to believe it. The documentary climaxes with a set that features Mayer inviting his full band on stage. Somehow, the the full band didn't quite live up to the raw power of the Trio, but, they closed out the show well and I couldn't help but feel that the singer/songwriter at the center of it all could be well on his way to greatness.
Then Battle Studies came along and ruined everything. Okay, maybe that's a bit of a harsh criticism to put on the clearly directionless album. After all, it feels like an earnest effort on Mayer's part, but the uninspired songs and even less-inspiring songwriting was less a cause for celebration and more a cause for head scratching. Where did all the talent go? Lyrics like "Who do you love - Me or the thought of me?" had been replaced by meaningless, faux-edgy nonsense like "Who says I can't get stoned?" It felt as if Mayer, who had taken a huge leap forward rooting himself in the foundations of soul and the blues, had stumbled backwards and fallen all the way back to his anonymous, uninspired pop routine. I was ready to bid the ambitious young musician a not-so-fond farewell and, in fact, I thought I'd already done so.
Heart of Gold, anybody?
And then along comes Born and Raised to remind me what I loved about Mayer in the first place. Right off the bat, the impression I got from the cover and Mr. Mayer's new appearance (Long, scraggly hair; white fedora) is that it might be the long, lost Neil Young album. As I put the album on for a first spin, this initial impression seemed to dominate my opinion of what I was listening to to the point where I'm not 100% if the album is actually Neil Young-esque or if it's just the aesthetic of the album cover combined with Mr. Mayer's fashion sense. But, no, it's not just those things (Though they do contribute quite a bit); the album is very clearly inspired by Mr. Young and the other folk greats. And it's excellent. After the soullessness of Battle Studies, Born and Raised feels like a rush of genuine feeling and its homespun nature only contributes to its intimacy. As the initial chords of the opening track 'Queen of California' start up, I could feel the smile creep upon myself - A smile that hadn't been inspired by Mayer since Continuum. This album could be a perfect companion for a long drive on the open road. This feeling is maintained from track-to-track with the particular standouts being 'Speak For Me' (Which has an opening that sounds suspiciously similar to Wilco's 'Muzzle of Bees') 'Something Like Olivia,' 'Born and Raised,' 'If I Ever Get Around To Living,' and 'Walt Grace's Submarine Test January' - Basically the whole middle portion of the album. 'Walt Grace's...' is particularly great, starting out with a jazzy flair before working into a steady drumbeat that leads into Mayer's banjo plucking.
Sure, Mayer stumbles around a bit with all kinds of silly cliches on some tracks. Such is the case with the song 'Love is a Verb' - The title itself induces a wince or two. But these missteps and Mayer's standard, generic lyrics scattered about the album can't ruin the overall feeling that Mayer has found himself again along with his ambition. Sure, nearly every song he's ever written is about some kind of lost home that he's searching for or a broken heart or blah, blah, but, as far as I'm concerned, these subjects can never grow tired and Mayer has always had a straightforward and honest approach to them that has always felt quite refreshing, even if it's not always particularly inspired or revolutionary, but who cares? Revolution is so overrated these days.
Give the title track a listen and see if you can dig it too:
NOTE: The song speeds up for about five seconds in the video above. Though the result is slightly comical, this is actually a technical error and is not featured in the actual tune. Not a sermon; just a thought.
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