This album makes me cranky.
I will attempt to explain the above statement, but make no
promises. Sometimes music is like a Rorschach test; your reaction
simply is what it is.
It’s not that John Mayer’s music offends; to the contrary, it’s
so inoffensive as to verge on bland. It’s not that
Room For Squares isn’t well-crafted; to the contrary, at
times it’s artful to the point where you begin to question whether
there’s any there there. (I told you this wasn’t going to be
easy…)
Mayer’s approach is in fact the very epitome of modern, earnest,
singer-songwriter folk-pop, sort of a cross between Jewel and a
solo Dave Matthews. Indeed, ever since the first hit single “No
Such Thing” (“I wanna run through the halls of my high school /
etc.”) came out, the Matthews comparisons have fallen like rain.
Rightfully so, for two reasons. One is that the album was produced
by former Matthews engineer and producer John Alagia. The other is
that Mayer sings in a breathy, slightly nasal coo that’s undeniably
similar to Matthews’ typical approach to ballads. Except Mayer
sings that way ALL THE TIME.
The emergence of second single (and — gulp — Grammy winner)
“Your Body Is A Wonderland” has only stoked the fires of
comparison, inasmuch as it amounts to little more than a PG-13
rewrite of Matthews’ steamy ballad “Crash Into Me.” Don’t get me
wrong; it’s a pretty song, with some nice turns of phrase to be
found along the way. But hearing Mayer perform it right in front of
a truly stellar James Taylor performance — and then, God help us,
beat Taylor out for a Grammy — is flat-out ridiculous.
But I digress. When Mayer does get away from the obvious
Matthews-isms, his strong suit quickly becomes clear — he has a
real gift for self-effacing, soul-searching folk songs. “Why
Georgia” and “My Stupid Mouth” are the best examples and the
strongest cuts here, wry self-examinations anchored by Mayer’s very
solid, rhythmic acoustic guitar.
At the same time, “Why Georgia” goes a long way for me toward
pinpointing the source of the problem: Alagia’s homogenized,
electrified folk-pop production. The song starts out beautifully
with just Mayer and his acoustic, before an entirely unnecessary
electric guitar and rhythm section barge in and overpower him. This
occurs again and again throughout the album, as Alagia’s
squeaky-clean, overly-textured pop arrangements undermine otherwise
deserving lyrics like “83.” The only place where the production
actually seems like an asset is on the ringing power-pop track
(with the ironic ballad-ish title) “Love Song For No One.”
The end result of this collision of styles is an album that
wants very badly to be genuine, but ends up, thanks to the overly
slick production, often feeling manufactured to the point of
insincerity. Considering that the whole appeal of singer-songwriter
folk-pop is its intimacy and sincerity, it’s a pretty deadly flaw.
Like the easily dazzled Grammy voters, I believe John Mayer has
real talent and potential, but what he and his over-reaching
producer have done with it here just doesn’t work for me.
Squandered potential. Yep, that’s just the kind of thing that
makes me cranky.
