I've made no secret that I think John Mayer is one of the most enigmatic artists working today. Some readers might remember my review of his last album, Battle Studies, when I wrote at school. I am not really a big fan, although I have 15 of his songs on my iPod ... a fact for which I loathe myself.
Does he have a screw lose? You bet. Does he not know when to keep his mouth shut? Uh ... yeah. Still, I think Mayer is one of the most incredible talents on guitar that no one knows about.
I can see what you're thinking:
Jim, you've said some dumb shiz. Your taste is mainstream, the grammar on your reviews is somewhat laughable and you stretch overly simplified analogies in order to make yourself sound somewhat cogent ... but the fact that you said John Mayer is the most incredible guitar player that no one knows about takes the cake and then smashes it in my face.
Well, if you're not a die-hard J. Mays fan, you'd be right. Everyone knows "Your Body is a Wonderland." If that's all that this that guy has up his sleeve, I must have lost my mind.
Wrong-o! All you need to do is just take a look at this clip to see just how adroit this bro's fingers really are:
And this is that song "Gravity" off of Continuum, yo. You know that's the blandest of the bland — Kenny G on guitar!
So if you haven't been to one of his concerts, there would be no way to know that Mayer has been possessed by the ghost of Stevie Ray Vaughan. Mayer is good, and he knows it — he matriculated at Berklee (that's the prestigious music college with two e's in Boston, not Berkley, Calif.), won seven Grammys and became an immortal on Chappelle's Show by showing how white people dance funny.
However, in remarks to Rolling Stone and Playboy during his press tour for Battle Studies, we catch glimpses of Mayer's utter tom-douche-ery that makes us feel almost sorry for him, especially now knowing the fallout it ultimately caused. John could've done two things after these displays of whining, TMI concerning his famous ex's and those always-hilarious jokes about his penis being a racist — go Charlie Sheen on everyone's ass or get out of the spotlight for a while. Because this is his first album in almost three years, we know which road he chose.
Mayer returns to the fray with a haggard look, a drab wardrobe, long hair and an off-white Panama hat. It is as if, in his exile, he found Neil Young nirvana under the Harvest tree. It's worth mentioning because even this contributes to the overall feel of this album, Born and Raised, a work shaded under the umbrella of Southern Americana native to Mayer's adopted home of Georgia. Even the album cover looks like long-lost art from the Allman Brothers' secret record vault. His rock-bottom has turned out to be our gain. While the majority of Mayer's recent albums have been vehicles for hits, with the remainder serving as steady easy-listening filler, Mayer benefits from a musical shift.
"Queen of California, "Speak for Me," and "Born and Raised - Reprise" showcase varying degrees of Southern musical influence, such as acoustic fingerpicking, vocal harmonies and syncopation, demonstrating emotion that Yankees and most carpetbaggers have no hope of possessing. Connecticut-born Mayer is the exception — and he feels right at home implementing these techniques effortlessly into Born and Raised's songs.
Those looking for the standard Mayer tracks might also be satisfied, if they are willing to sacrifice quantity for quality. The bluesy "Something Like Olivia" is a fantastic twelve-bar variation that showcases Mayer's penchant for the blues without compromising on the ballads he's known for, with this one dedicated to a taken (probably married) woman. The other is "Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey," on which he admits life in the spotlight seems to have changed him into a carnally gluttonous human being and when he realizes he has regressed in his maturity. There is little doubt this contains some of the most profound lyrics Mayer has written and shows he still has a heart even after the high-profile break-ups and publicized faux pas.
The finished product is not a perfect album, but it's undoubtedly polished as Mayer's best work to date. There are still a couple of songs like "The Age of Worry" and "A Face to Call Home" that have an unimaginative Mayer repeating a chord progression on which nothing really changes until the bridge. Still, this album's heights exceed the flaws. The versatility of Born and Raised serves as the return Mayer needed both musically and lyrically ... and it also gives me hope that I may some day hear an amazing, chunky blues guitar solo like the one in the video above.
For Your Consideration: "Queen of California," "Speak for Me," "Something Like Olivia," "Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey," "Born and Raised - Reprise."
For Next Time: The Only Place by Best Coast.
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