Jack Hody Johnson lives a tough life. He wakes up most days to the North Shore roar of Oahu, Hawaii. When he steps outside his door there is sand where a “Welcome” mat should be.
Hmm, what is he going to do today? Maybe he’ll take a stroll through the neighborhood, which would consist of a beach-walk through warm sand and cool ocean breeze. Perhaps he’ll chase those famous North Shore swells or go for a dip later in the afternoon.
Ugh, so many things to do.
Maybe he is feeling productive. If Mr. Johnson wants a taste of that 9 to 5 grind, he’ll pick up his guitar or video camera and get down to “work.”
Musician, writer, filmmaker and surfer are all hats that Johnson has worn, and while he has been professionally paid for his efforts in all these endeavors, it is his beach-bum acoustic styling that we are most familiar.
Responsible for three platinum albums that largely cater to a summer-starved youth, Johnson twisted the faces of fans when he described the theme of his then soon-to-release LP Sleep through the Static as “dark and electric.” A definitive aberration coming from an artist whose work to date has been as light and acoustic as rock music gets. He ditched his trusty acoustic guitar in favor of an ever-versatile Telecaster. To help add texture and lay some soul, he invited keyboardist Zach Gill into studio sessions.
In truly practicing what he preached he took hold of his environmental footprint, recording in his personal studio that runs on 100% solar energy.
Unfortunately for Johnson, the changes on Sleep end here.
Sleep through the Static, which doubles as the name of the albums first single, does little in exploring the empty studio space that is so vital to electric-rock records. The title track seems like a muddled observation about the war on terror. It’s a subject that we don’t want our laid-back comrade worrying about.
Why is he crooning about the Middle East, did he run out of pancake batter?
On “Angel” we get Johnson, his acoustic guitar, and…nada. Oh wait! Did I just here a few splashes on keys in that final 15 seconds!? Come on. There are some great opportunities on this record for drums, bass, keys, ANYBODY to swing into some impromptu support. All the listener gets is an occasional piano outro and drum fills that are as original as a middle school pep band rendition of “Crazy Train.”
With song tones mired in familiarity, it’s hard to differentiate the sound on his new album from anything off In Between Dreams or Brushfire Fairytales. The bass still drubs hard, Johnson’s rhythmic verses still clip along, and drummer Adam Topol is still squeezed firmly in a vice grip. It’s a formula worked to perfection on his previous albums, but it just doesn’t translate well to electric guitar.
The expectation here was that a musician of Johnson’s caliber, a good songwriter at the forefront of the light-rock genre, would be able to develop a signature electric sound. Maybe something along the lines of the John Mayer Trio, only more soothed grooving then ferocious shredding.
It seems that Johnson is content to allow his mellow messages fill listeners ears. And maybe that’s not all that bad. Johnson is an extremely capable songwriter, and here’s hoping that his “experimental” album was just that. It would be cause for concern if Mr. Johnson saw his most recent effort as a stepping-stone to more experimentation.
You live an easy life Jack, no need to start working now.