by Tom Johnson
I am fully prepared to admit that I am wrong when I am wrong. I’m just not wrong that often, not about music. But, in this case, I’ve been wrong about John Mayer. I had written him off almost entirely because of the one song I’d bothered to allow into my brain. The same one most people know him for: “Your Body Is A Wonderland,” one of the creepiest songs I’ve heard in recent memory. And, yeah, I’ve read the numerous statements about his guitar skills, etc., but I’d simply ignored them — thinking that, if he were so great a guitarist, surely he’d not write “Wonderland.” Yeah, yeah, I know, “great guitarist,” etc., etc.
Or maybe it was the similarity to Dave Matthews, vocally, that also turned me off. (I’m not going to be one of those who rips on the Dave Matthews Band. I think they’re a fine band who turned out some great songs, but at some point I just seemed to move on. I think I simply overdosed on him years ago to the point that I just don’t seem to be able to really stomach their music anymore. It happens.)
Or maybe it’s the banal, grasping-at-the-charts qualities I found in what little of Mayer’s music I admit that I’d heard . . . until I heard “Gravity,” a live version, playing somewhere and it somehow sunk in that this tender little blues song, filled with incredible, nuanced guitar playing, some of the finest guitar playing I’ve heard in a while, in fact — the kind of stuff that leaves indelible marks on your soul and begs you to play it again, and again — had sold me. It was one of those moments where I was caught listening to everything … the lyrics, simple and yet yearning and thoughtful enough to mean something, and maybe more than they might seem at first; the backing band tight and responsive, like a good blues band should be; but mostly that guitar. Notes squirted and flitted here and there in a perfect call-and-response, so barely under control. All the elements that make for great guitar listening. I was hooked. On John freaking Mayer? No, no, this can’t be. But it was.
And it was as if the fates had planned it, back then: Amazon had one of their special deals where both Try! (Mayer’s then-new live blues disc — the one I preferred to get, to be honest — with jazz great and latter-day member of the Who Pino Palladino on bass) and Mayer’s current studio release Continuum (which I wasn’t so hot to pick up) were on sale very cheap. In fact, together they were cheaper than buying them separately anywhere else. I took the plunge. When they arrived a few days later, I sheepishly took Try! out with me on a drive thinking that I’d surely realize I’d made a dumb mistake, but immediately I felt vindicated. Mayer killed me with his playing. He may just be a young guy who’s never suffered a day in his life, but he can play the blues with the best of them. The Tragically Hip may have been right when they sang that “the blues are not required” to play the blues these days. So maybe he’s not completely original — he has certainly picked up a good deal of his sound, both vocally and in his guitar playing, from Stevie Ray Vaughan — but I was quick to find out that when he steps out of the blues and into more mainstream music, as on Continuum, it’s merely an influence rather than an imitation.
But that feeling wasn’t immediate. I didn’t have very receptive ears for Continuum. There was a glossy sheen to the sound that made it hard for me to get a grip on what was going on. But the studio version of “Gravity” kept me coming back, along with the uplifting toe-tapper “The Heart Of Life” which had me grabbing the liner notes to see if Eric Clapton was guesting on guitar (he’s not) — and then the plaintive “Stop This Train” became added to the “favorites” list.
In the end, I had to admit that there was more soul and vintage R&B infused in Mayer’s sound on Continuum than I expected to find, a fact that quickly elevated the shimmering “Slow Dancing In A Burning Room” as well. The included studio version of “Gravity,” however, pales slightly compared to the live version found on Try! that hooked me. But then there was that note-for-note perfect reading of Jimi Hendrix’s “Bold As Love” …
The album is certainly aimed at the mainstream and, aside from a few tracks, wisely (for the mainstream, that is) steers clear of the blues that were Try!‘s centerpieces. It’s unfortunate, in a way, that these tracks are so much more mannered and manicured than they needed to be — that he chose to do something subtle and romantic, where the smoother approach may have worked out better for the majority of his listeners. I wonder how many more are out there like me who may have had reservations that might have been cast aside with a more muscular sound. Mayer could have been doing something raw and really powerful like he did with Try! all along if he felt like it.
That said, now that I’ve given in and opened my ears, I’ve come to accept the music for what it simply is. In time, I had to admit that I really just plain enjoy the hell out of Continuum as-is.
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