This is a difficult one to write. Namely because a good chunk of my current circle consists of people who wear skinny jeans and nerd glasses and listen to music that you probably won’t even hear about until like, ought-fifteen.
I say, “John Mayer!” They say, “SHUNNED!”
I’m not here to comment specifically on the “racist” comments put out by Mayer in the Playboy interview, other than to say, READ THE PIECE in its entirety. I’m not saying it’s not stupid, what he said, but I do think his remarks should be seen within their environment to get a sense of the interview’s tone. [And yes, said environment involves boobs, so, you know...surf on over there, and then clear your history so your girlfriend doesn't find out.]
I have a feeling that if people read the whole thing, they’d see that Mayer’s answers are so forthcoming they are almost painful and refreshing. [Or possibly painfully refreshing, or maybe refreshingly painful.] I mean, aren’t we all bored with the vague, PR-driven answers? “We’re just friends” and “I just have a high metabolism” etc, etc, bullshit, etc. I’d rather have celebrity be honest and risk coming across as douchey than make me read 6,000+ words of absolutely meaningless drivel.
To me, this whole piece was less question/answer and more, “fly on the wall.” It’s ridiculously candid, so much that I found myself actually appreciating his thoughts on masturbation. I found myself thinking things like, “Yeah, I can see why breaking the heart of Jennifer Aniston as ’akin to burning the American flag.’ Very clever.”
So yeah. I’m defending John Mayer. Kind of. Why?
Well.
Good question. HERE’S MY TOP FIVE.
1) Between the years 2001-2002, John Mayer was the soundtrack to my first love, and subsequently, my first heartbreak. Is there some nostalgic umbilical cord that keeps our hearts tied to such things? I’m not saying that his early work is musically groundbreaking, but it reminds me of awkward makeout sessions and tears in sweet malt liquor. For some reason — possibly my sick and twisted, sentimental writer’s soul - I hold those things close.
2) John Mayer’s twitter stream is often funny and witty and thoughtful. Yeah, I said it. I appreciate a good dose of self-deprecating humor (see: this entire blog). Confession: the one time I @’d him, it was about a dream I had, and I WILL NOT LIE I kind of half-expected him to respond to it.
3) He played at Michael Jackson’s funeral and played “Human Nature,” and didn’t sing.
4) I understand what it’s like when you’re trying so hard to be funny, when the words come out and you go scrambling after them because, “Oh. Oh no. That came out wrong. I just wanted you to laugh.” I think that’s what happened here. I think he was trying to get a chuckle out of America and instead America was like, “Yer a racist a-hole.” Like that one entry in which I dissed that girl at the Delta Spirit show and I took some creative liberties to be humorous and then the girl found my blog and was PISSED. Except replace “I” with “John Mayer” and “girl” with “an entire race.”
5) I was with my BFF Matt when we had front row seats to this Counting Crows/John Mayer show in 2003 (YES!). Mayer would be working the stage and the girls would just shriek at deafening levels. I’d look over at Matt, roll my eyes, and comment about how gross that was. Immediately after that he came up on stage right, directly in front of us, and, as if possessed by some teenybopper devil, I threw my hands up and yelled, “WOOOO.” WOO, people. WOO.
On a side note, if someone out there wants to refer to me as “sexual napalm,” I wouldn’t be opposed.
