Artist: Johnson, Jack
Label: Universal Music Group
Release: 2013
Length: 41:24
Rating: 1/5
Rock has to have balls, right? Then again, that doesn’t always hold up, say, when you’ve got a bit of tuneful Hawaiian pop with surfer seasoning: a card-carrying member of the non-erect wave of soft, syrupy acoustic border-hopping between singer-songwriter stuff, beach smell, surfing and a hybrid that isn’t quite pop, because there’s not much of a dance-floor vibe here, but doesn’t have the guts either to make you dare count Jack Johnson among the real hard-nosed rockers decked out in leather and crowned with teased hair. There’s zero decadence in this 38-year-old, the kind of guy every mom would hand over to her unmarried, single daughters as a husband without a second thought, and the album From Here To Now To You fits him to a tee, a sequel to the light, carefree stream of thought and tunefulness of fifth record To The Sea. The constants are still the sweet, benign, dreamy acoustics, and pop oozes out of practically every pore of this album, which wants to please on the first take, the first listen, the first chorus and chord. And then you find out, maybe you read it somewhere or someone whispers it to you, that the guy was actually a punk once. I swear, you can’t detect that in a single spot …
Anyway, let’s put the snap judgments aside and get to the musical essence. This feather-light rock is saturated with fleeting flashes of inspiration, a melodic cocktail of Johnson’s soft tenor, baritone and acoustic guitars that never get further than gentle strumming, while the romance is just right for lighting candles, spinning a sea-themed record, sipping an easy drink and warbling standard courting phrases. Lightness and low calories are guaranteed, and there’ll be no headache after this decidedly unexcessive act in music history. For a headache, the whole thing would need a bit more depth, some intellectual complication of the kind someone like Bruce Cockburn can deliver, Dylan definitely, or an exceptional Tracy Chapman, and Jack is … well, Jack is just Jack … In a bubble of utopian, saccharine flirting with an unreal world of shallow relationships with the fairer sex. I Got You is a whistling intro that, with its simplicity and dreamy melancholy, brings a touch of sentimental ethos into your home, something you could already hear from Johnson on the albums In Between Dreams or On And On. If Eddie Vedder, with his love of surf, could muster some sentimentality in a manly, raspy way, Jack is awfully cautious and frigidly benign. Jack would rather do the dishes so he doesn’t get on his sweetheart’s bad side. Washing The Dishes is literally a tale about that, and as the two guitars, bass and simple drums glide along, you can easily picture him in an apron with a dish towel in his hands, while his girl sits at the table dictating that you can still see stains on the plates. Grow a pair, dude! The cojones are still happily chilling in the belly cavity … He’s steel-stubborn about one thing, though: the main chord set stays the same, and all the songs are, believe it or not, alike. I was hoping for a little surprise from Shot Reverse Shot, a bouncy little number, but after the slide guitar in the intro the story just rolls on. Relaxing on the beach, a bit of piña colada and big little umbrellas in a rosy marinade of childish babbling about perfectly everyday things, but Johnson doesn’t let us under the skin of his thinking or his attitude to the world. Jack is superficial, but at least he’s content with his crossroads of the universal coordinates of space, time, sunny optimism and the carefree weightlessness of filling the room with bright pastels of sound that isn’t meant for contemplation or meditation. Background music from some light sitcom about a summer romance, sandy beaches and kitschy sunsets. Tape Deck is one of the more potent moments on the record, but it doesn’t turn into a punk missile of testosterone; it’s a folk tale about how Johnson’s first band decides to play punk, comes out as acoustic pop folk, and the drummer figures the guitar suits him better than drumsticks and a kit. What the song does deliver is a perfect peek into the genesis of a band, hunting for a spot to play, with covering songs becoming an excuse to land some gig where the would-be musical star can knock back a free beer or two and win over some naive chick. So no peaks of any deeper philosophy here.
The song Don’t Believe A Thing I Say sneaks into the whole thing as a genuinely well-crafted sensual piece, just please don’t listen to the lyrics. The tuneful duo of gliding, dreamy guitars here shows off with a shade more of that gliding, almost Eagles-meets-Floyd acoustic hush, only there’s more repetition and no build-up at the end. As I Was Saying is a song that will remind you for a moment of the melody of Mlinar na Muri by our homegrown Chateau, or in the original Boat On The River by Styx, but after a promising intro the unshakable mediocrity predictably carries on. You Remind Me Of You stays right there too, while Radiate is musically fuller, showing Johnson’s crew in a slightly amped-up acoustic funky groove, though the guys still can’t shake the smell of the terrace and being trapped in the classic three chords. The melancholic Ones And Zeros is a band-aid for the soul, which still isn’t fully healed even after the song Change, where the excellent Ben Harper also tries to leave his mellow mark, but with no noticeable departure from, or so I suspect, Johnson’s unaffected optimism, which is downright painful. Home, with its ukulele combo of accordion picking, acoustic guitar, restrained drum tapping and bass caresses, can’t (and, for the sake of the red thread, probably shouldn’t) add anything you could belch out afterwards as something more concrete.
Johnson’s formula is coherent, but not exactly in tune with the resonant hum of reality and the universe, which demands a bit of sobriety and resolve. Still, home is where the heart is, and Johnson’s spritzer of a pop sound, perfect for cool summer days, reflects the soul of Hawaii, I believe. Jack is just a cheerful, carefree guy who obviously doesn’t know bitterness, and I forgive him for it with all my heart. You shouldn’t hate someone for being cheerful, though it’s true that plenty of good, better and above all more potent music was born out of distress, mental revelation or the Zen influence of some forbidden substances. Jack has given all that up and drives his tram of easy tunes safely in second gear. This Johnson, the one you’ll get here, doesn’t allow or offer a rock-and-roll disconnect. For that you’ll have to turn to another Johnson, the one called Brian, but that’s a whole different movie, a whole different story and above all a whole different range of sweet-sounding decibels, which have absolutely nothing in common with Jack!
Lineup
Jack Johnson – vocals, guitar, ukulele, dobro and percussion
Adam Topol – drums, percussion
Merlo Podlewski – bass, piano, guitar, vibraphone
Zach Gill – piano, wurlitzer, vibraphone, glockenspiel, accordion, melodica, vocals, bass kalimba
Ben Harper – vocals, Weissenborn slide guitar
Production
Mario Caldato Jr.
Tracklist
1. I Got You
2. Washing Dishes
3. Shot Revserse Shot
4. Never Fade
5. Tape Deck
6. Don’t Believe A Thing I Say
7. As I Was Saying
8. You Remind Me Of You
9. Radiate
10. Ones And Zeros
11. Change (feat. Ben Harper)
12. Home
