Before I start this review, let me make a confession that will surely destroy any shred of hipster credibility I may have ever possessed: I really like Jack Johnson.
The evolution of my music tastes has been a long process, starting with my first album purchase ('NSync's "Tearin' Up My Heart," on cassette tape, from JC Penney) and marked by a series of milestones. But the watershed moment in this saga came not from the first time I heard the Beatles, or my first concert or the first time I listened to jazz and felt anything but a headache. It came, on countless high school car rides, from the local country radio station. My younger sister's country obsession annoyed me at first, but as I listened more and found songs I liked, I began to realize just how snobby and obnoxious it was to discount a genre entirely without ever bothering to get to know its music. So I made a pledge to myself: I would give every song a chance, and if I enjoyed an artist, be it Katy Perry, Brad Paisley or the Dave Matthews Band, I would listen to them with pride.
Which brings us back to Johnson. Critical reviews of his work have been far from sparse; Spin magazine likened him to "that barefoot sociology major you always saw picking No Woman, No Cry' on a Martin guitar in front of the dorms." But cheesy or not, I've always found his music to be catchy, soothing and refreshingly earnest. Johnson makes happy music for a sad world, and he's back with "From Here to Now to You," another album full of good vibes, catchy lyrics and sun-kissed melodies.
As with many of his albums, the songs of "From Here to Now to You" fall into one of two basic categories, which I'll call the ballads and the grooves. The ballads are slow and spare, dialing back drums and backing instrumentation to focus on Johnson's soothing guitar strums and his serene, expressive voice. Classics like "Banana Pancakes" set a high standard, but the ballads on "From Here to Now to You" hold their own.
The opener, "I Got You," is a gorgeous ode to a life partner, built around the refrain "I got you, I got everything/ I got you, I don't need nothing more." Johnson's lyrics are as sweet and earnest as ever, combining with a lovely whistled melody to make "I Got You" one of the album's most memorable tracks.
"Never Fade" plays out the life of a relationship, from furtive glances and first love songs to lasting companionship and mutual growth, with similarly winning results.
"Ones and Zeros" and "Don't Believe a Thing I Say" find Johnson getting existential, pondering black holes, old gods and the meaning of human existence. They're fragile, beautiful songs, packed with beautiful imagery and deeply thought-provoking in that barefoot-sociology-major kind of way.
Though he does slow and sweet as well as anybody in the business, "From Here to Now to You" really shines when Johnson turns up the volume and picks up the pace. "Shot Reverse Shot" is bubbly and infectious, packed with abstract but catchy lyrics and a thought-provoking chorus: "Can you even feel what's real/ with such a shallow depth of field?"
"Tape Deck" is irresistibly goofy, telling the story of Johnson's teenage garage band dreaming of stardom and annoying their parents with acoustic Fugazi covers. It's so blindingly earnest and unironic that I halfway expect Pitchfork to declare it the song of the year, citing meta-narratives and allusions to the Leviathan that we're all too oblivious to notice.
"Radiate" rides a funky groove, two guitar riffs dueling over a loping backbeat. "As I Was Saying" builds and releases momentum, detailing the ups and downs of rebuilding a damaged relationship. Lyrically, both are a bit muddled, but the guitar work and Johnson's soothing croon steal the show.
Speaking of stealing the show, the album's coup de grace is "Washing Dishes." Impeccably paced, lushly instrumented and infinitely hummable, it's the kind of song that showcases what Johnson does best: he makes music that makes you want to go out and just live, experience the beautiful, messy, contradiction-filled world we so often take for granted.
At the end of the day, maybe that's Johnson's most valuable contribution to the world of music. No, he doesn't make post-rock operas. No, his lyrics don't stand up to the man and put the system on trial. And yes, his songs do pretty much sound the same. But honestly, I can't name many other artists who make my day a little better every time I hear their music. And that's something worth treasuring.
