Scratching my own funny bone for shits and giggles. Lampooning books, music and being a single woman over 40. Recording observations with an almost Seinfeldian obsession for the minutiae of life. Things can get sweary around here. You understand.

Monday, February 22, 2010

MAYER EQUALS MOOCHING MUNTER

Looking for good music on Brisbane radio stations is a fraught with danger. If you don’t kill yourself attempting to tune the radio while driving in heavy traffic, then the music seriously will. I’m reasonably certain that if I didn’t have a CD player in the car, I’d have to fight the compelling urge to declare war on the general public and take hostages. Therefore, it was with great distress that I found myself subjected to John Mayer this morning. Locusts swarmed, foundations crumbled, worlds collapsed, universes imploded and then my ears bled. I was listening to 97.3. Which for all intent and purposes appears to be a chick radio station. Rhianna and Katy Perry mixed in with a bit of lightweight 80s nostalgia and some House music from the 90s: occasionally bearable but more often that not, on mute.

Anyways, having worked at the Once Formidable Radio Station for a number of years, I am more than familiar with the concept of ‘concert presents’ deals. A radio station with good ratings and the artist in question on high rotation, will partner up with a promotions/touring company and in exchange for tickets to giveaway to listeners, will flog the hell out the fact that ‘xyz’ is coming to Brisbane. To wit, it has come to my attention that John Mayer will be bringing his wet panties act to this corner of the globe in April, or so some breathless 30-something female listener informed me this morning by squealing her delight down the phone line to a thoroughly bored radio announcer. I find it difficult to compute that women in their 30s and 40s can still work themselves up into a lather about a musician with bee-stung lips. Aren’t they over it yet? I know that this little black duck hasn’t entertained a romantic fantasy about a rock star since the time Johnny Diesel ignored her fan mail. Then again, maybe I’m just suspicious. Years of dealing with serial prize pigs at radio stations that freely admitted to selling their concert tickets on EBAY will do that to you. HONETLY PEOPLE!!! DO WOMEN REALLY LOVE JOHN MAYER THAT MUCH? If you’re a fan, please step forward. You've got a hell of a lot of explaining to do sunshine.

Now I will freely admit that his first song
‘No Such Thing’ has a pretty beguiling melody, but I’m afraid just about everything he’s written since then is so utterly precious I’d gladly drink bleach than endure another one of his breathlessly contrived songs. Do you remember ‘Your Body is a Wonderland’? Well considering visitors to this page are mostly male, I will presume you don’t, because if there is one thing of which I am certain, preppy wet-arses waxing lyrical about bubble-gum tongues wouldn’t register on your radar. I heard it this morning and my forehead knitted so much that it made a scarf. So to purge myself of this insidious brain-worm and to add weight to my argument, let me elucidate.

The song begins with Mayer popping syncopated chords
(much in the vein of Extreme’s More Than Words) and then chronicles a lazy afternoon banging his girlfriend while Bold and the Beautiful plays in the background. In that I-just-woke-up-so-horny vocal style, he describes her having skin like porcelain (well of course she does!) with ‘candy lips’ and a ‘bubble-gum tongue’. Already my breakfast attempts to resurface. When I try to visualise these images, I see a wasted cheerleader’s mouth stuck to the bottom of his deck shoe. The set-up for the chorus involves the pair swimming in a ‘deep sea of blankets’ as they cancel all their plans for the day, which included downloading the new Lady Gaga album and rotating the tyres on the SAAB. Her Body is a Wonderland, a place where he’ll lose his hands...I’d rather not know exactly where. I quite enjoyed that bowl of muesli.

The next stanza commits that all too common error, in which an awkward lyric is employed so as to not upset a rhyme. He admires her hair that falls around her ‘face’ but then decides to rhyme this with ‘I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase’. Next, he reassures her that he’ll never let her head hit the bed without ‘my hand behind it’. I’m at a complete loss as to what all this means, other than maybe this chick is a pillow-chasing freak with OCD who likes to ram her skull against headboards. Probably in an attempt to block out the memory that she just went down on some doofus with Asperger’s and a penchant for crisp linen. Need I go on? No...I didn't think so. BLECH.

25 comments:

Domestic Daze said...

Fortunately I have managed to completely block what's his name from my mind. A large selection of cd's in the car also helps. Never liked it. Never will.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

Hi DD! Yes indeed...I admire your skills. On those rare occasions when I'm feeling beatific, I take it upon myself to forewarn the unwary listener. I just can't come to terms with the fact that my long cherised form of media has gone to the dogs. I live in hope.

YsambartCourtin said...

There are lovely, independent women. And there are women who like being thrown down and shagged silly by a dominating guy, who doesn't care about their plans. Mr Throwdown has found his "Twilight" reader and is letting rip. At least he does put his hand under her skull to keep her conscious while thumping away. There are minimum standards...

Girl Clumsy said...

Ugh. John Mayer is El Douchebag.

Bangar said...

Thankfully I've never heard any of it, just to keep it that way I skipped the links. RRR and MP3 players suit me fine.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

BANG: Consider it a community service my friend.

CLUMSY: He's Captain Douche.

BART: Hey YOU! Been busy with the new lady have we? I bet she's a saucy minx :D

Dr Yobbo said...

Douche. Rated as such ever since the film clip with the twin towers in it, released on purpose to attract attention. Fucktard

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

WTF????????????????? I had to google that. He had the gall to use gravity as a metaphor for his personal life and compares it with 911? Cock-sucking sonofabitch!

General DOUCHE.

Bondiboy66 said...

I am blissfully unaware of this John Mayer person...I did think of 'John Mayall's Bluesbreakers'for a moment due to the vague similarity of the names. Evidently they have nothing to do with each other i.e. the the latter is a legendary band, and the former is the diametric opposite and a waste of perfectly good oxygen.

I know what you mean about plugging the latest touring band - Wifey has our radio stuck on 2MMM and they've been playing the AC/DC back catalogue to death for a fortnight. I only listen to the Bon Scott songs though. I do have standards after all.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

BONDI: Apparently he is a fabulous blues guitarist...done gigs with SRV etc...must be his doppelganger.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

And yes...4MMM is doing the same with AC/DC at present. It makes me ill...cos I know the announcer wasn't even born when they named their band after a sewing machine.

Simon said...

Thank you for your explanation – I’m sorry to say that I didn’t recognise the name ‘John Mayer’, and initially thought you were writing of former British prime minister John Major: a bewildering experience.

Steve said...

Atlanta radio has this weird fascination of being in love with anyone who ever lived in Atlanta, even if only briefly. This is why John Mayer's songs are played constantly, Ryan Seacrest of American Idol has his syndicated show here, and why Kip Pardue EVER gets a single interview.

I'm reasonably certain he mentioned Interstate 85 in his song "Why Georgia" specifically to get airplay in Georgia (it's not enough to name the song after our state, you need a local reference I guess). What kills me is that when he or Dave Matthews are in concert, their songs are played constantly. Meanwhile, Roger Daltry performed here 2 weeks ago and not a single Who song was heard.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

SIMON: Hey! You look good bewildered :D

STEVE: Oh you have my deep and abiding sympathies! I can tolerate Dave Matthews...but to ignore Mr Daltry is inexcusable.

Therbs said...

Sorry Nat, the first couple of pars were very good but then you started describing John Mayer and I dozed off. What happened in the end? Did the trolls win?

yankeedog said...

John who?

I don't think I've ever intentionally heard any of his stuff. If it gets a resounding 'BLECH', I guess I'll stick with my old outlaw country tunes.

Steve said...

YD, if you've ever heard a dude with a guitar and a raspy voice sing either inside or outside a coffee shop in a college town, then you've heard John Mayer.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

THERBS: MWAH

YANKEE: My work here is done. Consider yourself forewarned.

STEVE: Don't forget the Jolie lips.

YsambartCourtin said...

My lady is indeed a saucy minx. And I easily would say that even if she didn't read this blog :)

Steve said...

The Jolie lips can be resolved by repeated punching.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

I'd suggest that would only exacerbate the situation!

Steve said...

No it wouldn't. The rest of the face around the lips would swell up to the point where the lips weren't so swollen by comparison.

Yes, I've thought this through.

Barnesm said...

Sorry to come to this late, I too suffered a surreal experience such as the one Simon described as while I was reading this I was instead of reading it as John Mayer I was thinking it was John Butler of the John Butler Trio which as you can imagine caused quite the mental disconnect.

Flinthart said...

Damn!

There's some lovely writing in this, NatV. I particularly liked the forehead line. Fortunately, I seem to have missed the whole John Mayer Experience, though. Reading the rest of your post makes me very, very glad of that.

Natalia the Russian Spy said...

STEVE: Your hatred of the mooching munter is to be aspired to.

BARNES: Happy to oblige!

FLINT: You're too kind sir.

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