Long after the love* between car-boyfriend and myself had dissolved into the oblivion where high school romances go to die, feelings between John and I had only continued to develop into deeper feelings of truest and purest love**.
Sometime towards the end of 2005, my friend Peter (who also was one of the members of the original cast of the katie tracy band) burned me a copy of John's Trio release "Try!" which was a bluesier, rockier project than John's previous work had been. It was a really strong contrast to basically everything on Heavier Things, with the exception of the tracks "Out of My Mind" and "Gravity," a mellow blues ballad, which went on to be re-released as a single on John's 2006 album, Continuum.
Continuum was the next major project of John's and was released in late 2006. I played this album pretty continuously in my '92 Honda Prelude for the majority of my late junior and senior year of high school (ironically, along with albums like Fall Out Boy's From Under the Cork Tree, The All-American Rejects Move Along, and anything by Blink 182 and Dashboard Confessional. For some reason, I reached this phase about 2 years after all my friends did). John brings his newly evolving blues style to this album as well, but keeps a lot of the pop sound from his earlier albums, which preserves a lot of the classic John we (I) know and love.
The best songs on this album, in my opinion, are "Dreaming with a Broken Heart" and "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room." Ironically, both tracks are descriptive of tragic break-ups, but in "Dreaming," John reminds us that he has not lost his ability to write lyrics that describe the very heart of the human condition (which is probably the thing I love about him as a musician, hands-down). "When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part." This wistful song is enough to bring tears to the eyes of anyone who has felt loss in love and is so relieved to know that John has finally been able to voice the emotion that you could not find the words to describe. "Slow Dancing" is John's metaphor for his relationship falling apart at the seams, and his description of a love struggling to breathe is in perfect following with this same pattern of being able to capture human emotion--even when you know that you're doomed--still wanting your love to just suffer through "the storm before the calm." Mayer has had his share of failed relationships, but he is consistenly able to write music that proves he is not numb to these experiences--which is what we all really want to believe is true for us as well (because we aren't and it is).
Mayer released his Live album in July of 2008, which is lucky for me, because my birthday is in July, so I received this album (and the accompanying DVD (!) ) as birthday gifts promptly after their release. Mayer introduced two new acoustic singles on this album (which I think are comparable to my favorites of Mayer's early work), as well as acoustic versions of three previously recorded songs which were phenom. The new songs included a cover of Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'" which I believe (although I know I will receive staunch opposition to this stance) is better than the original. Whether this is because I am biased to the sound of John Mayer's music or because I am less accustomed to late-80s soft rock, I am not sure. It's just the way that I feel.
The other newly introduced acoustic song on this album is "In your Atmosphere," which has an intro guitar riff that will give any musician (or human) immediate goosebumps (there is no doubt in my mind that I played this song on repeat in my car with the volume up and the windows down for about a month and a half straight in the summer of 2008). This song also probably makes it at least into my top 10 of all-time JM songs, if not in the top 5. Absolutely brilliant, and with un-standard tuning, John further proves his absolute guitar prowress and leaves us with haunting memories of his riffs that no amateur could imitate but we die wanting more of. The rest of the album is performed either with the John Mayer Trio or with John's regular touring band, and with the exception of two previously unreleased covers, John plays familiar tunes. [anyone wanting to watch the DVD of this show with me at any time need only call and ask--it's really something to behold].
July 3rd, of 2008, just after John's release of "Where the Light Is" but right before I had it in my possession, I journeyed to St. Louis, MO to see John live for the first time. My sister, her boyfriend, my friend (and current roommate), her sister, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's sister bought the tickets and made the trip. Not being especially financially endowed at the time, we bought lawn tickets, and were quite a ways from the main stage. Despite these sub-par seats, the outdoor concert at the ampitheater in the summer evening was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. It was unbelievable to be seeing live the man whose career I had been following for the last four years. Even in that moment, I knew I would go to the next show that I could--and would see the show from as close as I could get. (This sounds semi-stalkerish, but I promise it is instead more in fashion with the way you get to the football stadium four hours early to get seats in the front row---it just seems more real when you're up close and can read the expressions on their faces and the names on the backs of their jerseys. They stop seeming like TV characters and start feeling like people, which is all you really want them to be, anyway.)
Waiting from that day on to see an album or tour dates announced on the John Mayer site, my wish was finally granted this fall, when they announced his spring tour. With the upcoming release of his highly anticipated album Battle Studies (it had been 3 years since the release of his last studio album), I knew this was an opportunity I couldn't miss, and somehow convinced 18 friends (!) to buy tickets and share this experience with me.
When Battle Studies was finally released, the anticipation and my thoughts on his music that had built over the last years made me anxious to hear what John had finally produced. Was my recent financial investment in both the album and the pricey concert ticket worth the cost? Was this album the metaphorical " disappointing sequel" to the original excellent release? Was John able to continue to reach his fans in the way he had been able to when I first heard the chords to "Why Georgia" nearly five years ago?
I promise, I'll only write one more post about John Mayer (for now).
*some form of short-term teen infatuation
**actual love
Editor's Note: Happy New Year.
2009/12/31
2009/12/26
Battle Studies Review, Pt 2
The next chapter in this story involves my fifteen (and a half) year-old self, her current boyfriend, and the front seat of a parked car. While these sorts of memories are the type that seem most appropriate to suppress or ignore altogether, this particular one is of special import to you, dear readers, who are interested* to hear the ensuing details of the John-Mayer-discovery epic, which was begun in Part 1 of this series of installments.
You see, it was during these parked-car occasions that a budding love was developing that would forever change the horizon of my musical interests and endeavors. Fortunately for all parties involved (including you, readers, since this story would seriously digress into some sort of romantically comedic fiasco which I'm sure none of you have even the slightest interest in hearing), this love was not one arising between said boyfriend and myself. No, no, a more substantial, more lasting, and more meaningful involvement was growing through these many** meetings betwixt a certain suitor and I, who had been introduced only a short time before, but to which I became immediately attracted.
In order to further paint the scene surrounding the meeting of this lover and I, I must first familiarize you with this dear boy to which I was romantically "attached***" at that time. You see, as should have been a sign to my young self at the time, the boy was a musician. He played the guitar with such grace and confidence that at times I thought my heart would melt**** to hear the warm melodies he played. The tunes we loved he would play with such artistic interpretation as would rival the creators themselves, and while some of them he would sing (and I along with him), it was more often that he would simply play, while I, enchanted and completely mesmerized*****, listened intently. By this point you get the idea and to avoid further digression and possible nausea I will summarize by saying: He was good.
On one particular evening, he and I drove together to his (also musically inclined) friend's house with instruments in tow. Sitting around the living room, his friend began to play the intro to a song I had never heard. Boyfriend began to play along. Friend began to sing. "I am driving down 85 in the kind of morning that lasts all afternoon...."
I was hooked.
That is the moment in the room where it all began. I asked for and received "Room for Squares" for Christmas that year (within the month of this initial interaction), and "Heavier Things" became the soundtrack for the car-time adventures****** of Boyfriend and I. I knew that album backwards and forwards before I ever owned it, and the haunting themes from "Neon" and "My Stupid Mouth" from "Room for Squares" became more a part of me than I realized any music could be. I was listening to good music for the first time in my life, and had a insatiable hunger for any new, intriguing music I could get my hands on. John Mayer had single-handedly changed the way I thought about and experienced music.
It was love.
*mildly curious
**Somewhere between 1 and 1000
***in the words of my mother, we would have been described as "going steady"
****figuratively
*****I was fifteenish
******don't read too much into this
Editor's Note: Eventually, the author will get around to actually reviewing the album.
You see, it was during these parked-car occasions that a budding love was developing that would forever change the horizon of my musical interests and endeavors. Fortunately for all parties involved (including you, readers, since this story would seriously digress into some sort of romantically comedic fiasco which I'm sure none of you have even the slightest interest in hearing), this love was not one arising between said boyfriend and myself. No, no, a more substantial, more lasting, and more meaningful involvement was growing through these many** meetings betwixt a certain suitor and I, who had been introduced only a short time before, but to which I became immediately attracted.
In order to further paint the scene surrounding the meeting of this lover and I, I must first familiarize you with this dear boy to which I was romantically "attached***" at that time. You see, as should have been a sign to my young self at the time, the boy was a musician. He played the guitar with such grace and confidence that at times I thought my heart would melt**** to hear the warm melodies he played. The tunes we loved he would play with such artistic interpretation as would rival the creators themselves, and while some of them he would sing (and I along with him), it was more often that he would simply play, while I, enchanted and completely mesmerized*****, listened intently. By this point you get the idea and to avoid further digression and possible nausea I will summarize by saying: He was good.
On one particular evening, he and I drove together to his (also musically inclined) friend's house with instruments in tow. Sitting around the living room, his friend began to play the intro to a song I had never heard. Boyfriend began to play along. Friend began to sing. "I am driving down 85 in the kind of morning that lasts all afternoon...."
I was hooked.
That is the moment in the room where it all began. I asked for and received "Room for Squares" for Christmas that year (within the month of this initial interaction), and "Heavier Things" became the soundtrack for the car-time adventures****** of Boyfriend and I. I knew that album backwards and forwards before I ever owned it, and the haunting themes from "Neon" and "My Stupid Mouth" from "Room for Squares" became more a part of me than I realized any music could be. I was listening to good music for the first time in my life, and had a insatiable hunger for any new, intriguing music I could get my hands on. John Mayer had single-handedly changed the way I thought about and experienced music.
It was love.
*mildly curious
**Somewhere between 1 and 1000
***in the words of my mother, we would have been described as "going steady"
****figuratively
*****I was fifteenish
******don't read too much into this
Editor's Note: Eventually, the author will get around to actually reviewing the album.
2009/12/17
Battle Studies Review, Pt 1
For those of you who know me well, you are aware that I am a "musician," of sorts. In fact, I honestly cannot remember a time when music was not a large part of my life. My parents both used to sing to me when I was young, and as an aspiring singer myself (there is, in fact, video of Malisa and I circa age 5 singing and dancing to John Denver in my parents living room. Those of you who are interested can contact me later about viewing this piece of cultural history), frequent "concerts" for my parents and "friends" (both real and imaginary, as well as several dozen stuffed animals) were not uncommon to those who knew me during my childhood. When I was 4, my parents bought a beautiful Yamaha piano for the dining room in our South Tulsa home, and I promptly started weekly piano lessons which is what I like to call "The Beginning of an Era." Calling it an "Era" might be a bit of an exaggeration.
As the piano "era" (just get over it) continued on, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would become discontented with my current realm of musical prowess (because I was essentially dominating 'Mary had a Little Lamb'), and would begin the search for a new sphere of interest to enter into. While singing was something I enjoyed and was learning to do as well, in the 5th grade I finally centered in on what it had to be. I needed to have a guitar.
Seeing as I was eleven, I had no money or monetary assets to my name, whatsoever, to my knowledge, at that time. So I had to construct a scheme to convince my parents that this was a wise financial investment on their part. The bargaining began. Followed by begging. Followed by pleading. Followed by incessant offers at compromise ("I'll clean my room every day for the rest of my life. Twice even! As much as it takes!"). When these feeble, eleven-year-old attempts showed no promising signs of success, I finally gave up. (Whatever, I so didn't give up.) But in bringing the topic up less often, my parents finally came around. I got a guitar for my birthday that year.
I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in my bedroom at our house on 73rd, simply holding that beautiful Takamine guitar in my lap (Primarily because I had no idea what to do with it. Remember: I didn't know how to play the guitar). Luckily, one of my great friends at school, Rachel, did know how to play, and was graciously willing to help me get started. After two or three get-togethers with Rachel after school (in which she taught me chords G, A, D, and E and taught me two P&W songs that used these chords only), I was able to hobble along with my new-found skills on the instrument I now so dearly loved. The Era continues.
Thus began the many mornings of helping to lead worship in chapel at school (fortunately for me and unfortunately for all who had to listen to me, we had chapel three times a week, which gave me lots of practice and experience in a short amount of time), followed by helping with music on the summer mission trips, then in Youth Sunday School each week, and a myriad of other engagements as I got progressively more tolerable in my abilities. Surprisingly, as it seems there is often a surplus of moderately talented guitar players in any given social circle, there has always been a shortage in the groups I have been involved in, which has given me more opportunities to use this instrument than I would have imagined when I first began dreaming up the grand scheme to be the world's next Jaci Velazquez + guitar (I was home schooled). I guess I should have seen it as a sign. Oh, youth-self: how naive you were.
While other endeavors distracted me in high school (primarily, musical theater and a further interest in the vocal endeavors I had only slightly pursued to that point), I will never forget these first musical encounters. Were it not for my guitar-love I likely would not have dated the boy that I dated during my sophomore year of high school (a talented guitar player and musical connoisseur). And while that relationship was relatively unsuccessful (seeing as it ended), I have to give it a lot of credit, because ultimately, it changed my life. Because that boy introduced me to this song, and the musical love-of-my life, John Mayer.
Editor's Note: This post began with the intention of reviewing John Mayer's latest album, Battle Studies (as promised). Due to the enjoyment of writing the introduction to this piece, the author has opted to make this a multi-part series. Stay tuned for further installments.
As the piano "era" (just get over it) continued on, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would become discontented with my current realm of musical prowess (because I was essentially dominating 'Mary had a Little Lamb'), and would begin the search for a new sphere of interest to enter into. While singing was something I enjoyed and was learning to do as well, in the 5th grade I finally centered in on what it had to be. I needed to have a guitar.
Seeing as I was eleven, I had no money or monetary assets to my name, whatsoever, to my knowledge, at that time. So I had to construct a scheme to convince my parents that this was a wise financial investment on their part. The bargaining began. Followed by begging. Followed by pleading. Followed by incessant offers at compromise ("I'll clean my room every day for the rest of my life. Twice even! As much as it takes!"). When these feeble, eleven-year-old attempts showed no promising signs of success, I finally gave up. (Whatever, I so didn't give up.) But in bringing the topic up less often, my parents finally came around. I got a guitar for my birthday that year.
I distinctly remember sitting on the floor in my bedroom at our house on 73rd, simply holding that beautiful Takamine guitar in my lap (Primarily because I had no idea what to do with it. Remember: I didn't know how to play the guitar). Luckily, one of my great friends at school, Rachel, did know how to play, and was graciously willing to help me get started. After two or three get-togethers with Rachel after school (in which she taught me chords G, A, D, and E and taught me two P&W songs that used these chords only), I was able to hobble along with my new-found skills on the instrument I now so dearly loved. The Era continues.
Thus began the many mornings of helping to lead worship in chapel at school (fortunately for me and unfortunately for all who had to listen to me, we had chapel three times a week, which gave me lots of practice and experience in a short amount of time), followed by helping with music on the summer mission trips, then in Youth Sunday School each week, and a myriad of other engagements as I got progressively more tolerable in my abilities. Surprisingly, as it seems there is often a surplus of moderately talented guitar players in any given social circle, there has always been a shortage in the groups I have been involved in, which has given me more opportunities to use this instrument than I would have imagined when I first began dreaming up the grand scheme to be the world's next Jaci Velazquez + guitar (I was home schooled). I guess I should have seen it as a sign. Oh, youth-self: how naive you were.
While other endeavors distracted me in high school (primarily, musical theater and a further interest in the vocal endeavors I had only slightly pursued to that point), I will never forget these first musical encounters. Were it not for my guitar-love I likely would not have dated the boy that I dated during my sophomore year of high school (a talented guitar player and musical connoisseur). And while that relationship was relatively unsuccessful (seeing as it ended), I have to give it a lot of credit, because ultimately, it changed my life. Because that boy introduced me to this song, and the musical love-of-my life, John Mayer.
Editor's Note: This post began with the intention of reviewing John Mayer's latest album, Battle Studies (as promised). Due to the enjoyment of writing the introduction to this piece, the author has opted to make this a multi-part series. Stay tuned for further installments.
2009/12/12
Missed Opportunities
On Thursday afternoon, I seriously considered giving Cheryl Snoops a concert flyer for the band, on the off chance that they like me enough slash wouldn't have plans and would feel like coming to the show.
I didn't do it.
I didn't do it.
2009/12/10
J'ai Lu, Novembre 2009
Remember, remember the month of November (The 5th itself was never much memorable to me). The eleventh month of the year has come and gone, and we find ourselves in a state of surprise as the year we feel just began comes to a climax and a close. The holidays leave us in a "holidaze," but the rest from the norms of classroom learning and independent living are a kind of respite we forgot we had forgotten. I, for one, experienced a holiday at home unlike I have had in nearly five years: I did not work at Chick-fil-A on Black Friday. Having nearly four full days at my parent's country home did much for mind, spirit, and body, and has left me anxious to return for more of this solace. I finish this semester in 5 short days. The time flies when you're having what, now?
I took on a particularly challenging book to begin November, which is probably why I did not make it much beyond that. Malcom X left my mind spinning and, due to its depth and intensity, it was difficult for me to progress through its 400+ pages. Therefore, I took the easy way out afterwards, and read the first installment in Lemony Snicket's series. I assure you, I am in the midst of two separate books I attempted to meet this month's quota, so look forward to the December edition (and final?) for those enthralling (I'm sure) reviews.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X (as told to Alex Haley) -- My roommate Megan read this for a class this semester, and throughout our discussion, I became intrigued by it. This was a really difficult book to wade through, not only because of it’s length, but because (surprise) Malcolm X was a really intense person who led a really intense life. Essentially, it begins sad, ends sad, and is sad a lot in the middle. However, I think (more so since reading it than before reading) that this is a really important biography to be familiar with, and it explains Malcolm X and modern Black struggle in a way that is more rational than is often portrayed and in a way that I think is eye-opening and enlightening. (7)
A Series of Unfortunate Events (Snicket) – Believe it or not, I had never read this story before this month and year of my life. Apparently it is some sort of “classic,” and I found it entertaining, but not much more than that. I’m not really sure what category of literature it is generally placed in, but I think it honestly is a little too intense to be a children’s story. I think adults could appreciate its sarcasm and see it for what it is, but it really is a story with a non-happy ending and there’s some pretty disturbing events along the way. (5)
It is just occurred to me that I should review for you the latest in John Mayer's sure-to-be platinum collection, but I think I will save this for a later post.
I took on a particularly challenging book to begin November, which is probably why I did not make it much beyond that. Malcom X left my mind spinning and, due to its depth and intensity, it was difficult for me to progress through its 400+ pages. Therefore, I took the easy way out afterwards, and read the first installment in Lemony Snicket's series. I assure you, I am in the midst of two separate books I attempted to meet this month's quota, so look forward to the December edition (and final?) for those enthralling (I'm sure) reviews.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X (as told to Alex Haley) -- My roommate Megan read this for a class this semester, and throughout our discussion, I became intrigued by it. This was a really difficult book to wade through, not only because of it’s length, but because (surprise) Malcolm X was a really intense person who led a really intense life. Essentially, it begins sad, ends sad, and is sad a lot in the middle. However, I think (more so since reading it than before reading) that this is a really important biography to be familiar with, and it explains Malcolm X and modern Black struggle in a way that is more rational than is often portrayed and in a way that I think is eye-opening and enlightening. (7)A Series of Unfortunate Events (Snicket) – Believe it or not, I had never read this story before this month and year of my life. Apparently it is some sort of “classic,” and I found it entertaining, but not much more than that. I’m not really sure what category of literature it is generally placed in, but I think it honestly is a little too intense to be a children’s story. I think adults could appreciate its sarcasm and see it for what it is, but it really is a story with a non-happy ending and there’s some pretty disturbing events along the way. (5)It is just occurred to me that I should review for you the latest in John Mayer's sure-to-be platinum collection, but I think I will save this for a later post.
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