Any musician famous enough to amass a large fan base inevitably amasses some haters. If it’s not for their music, it might be their look, their politics, or their personas.
When Jack Johnson’s fame peaked in the mid-2000s, he had plenty of hatred aimed his way, and I never fully understood why. He seemed like a pretty likeable guy. He married his college girlfriend and steers clear of tabloid drama. He’s quietly active with charity work in his home state of Hawaii, environmentally conscious without being preachy, and usually dressed as if he’s a background actor in a grocery store commercial.
Was it his music that bothered people? I always found it catchy, pleasant, easy. Browsing reviews from the time (In Between Dreams was released in 2005) it’s hard to find a review that doesn’t contain the word “mellow.” How can you hate something that’s mellow?
And yet those reviews are often written with an edge, and seem to take issue with the very innocuousness that makes the music so mellow in the first place. SPIN Magazine graded it a D+ and provided scathing observations like, “He’s the hotter, chiller version of that barefoot sociology major you always saw picking ‘No Woman, No Cry’ on a Martin guitar in front of the dorms, flashing a ‘who, me?’ smile at passing cuties.”
Even the favourable review in the Village Voice ran with the title “Dumber Breeze” and proclaimed Johnson the “dumbest genius in pop.”
It’s as if, as the 90s morphed into the early 2000s, the musical landscape was such that critics could accept either vapid boy-band pop OR ultra-conscious Radiohead-type acts. I guess innocuousness is hard to enjoy ironically or authentically.
And while some of his songs are almost too cute for my liking, some of them – like this short little gem from the record’s tail end – are quite lovely.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. While most of his music draws on indie folk or even Caribbean influences, this one is more Bossa Nova. How can you hate Bossa Nova?
2. While most of his music doesn’t stray far from guy-and-guitar instrumentation, this one features a little bit of accordion. How can you hate a little bit of accordion?
3. Just when you think it’s going to be purely instrumental, he throws in a half-verse, sung in multiple languages, in which he tries to get attention from someone beautiful. That someone was apparently his wife, to whom he jokingly first sang this song on a vacation in Europe. How can you hate such a wholesome backstory?
Recommended listening activity:
Making a list of pet peeves and then deciding to stop hating at least half of the things on the list.