"Guitar-guy Lebron James"
591 words on John Mayer's Solo acoustic tour, mastery and Michaelangelo's David
VANCOUVER – Lately, I have been reminded that so much of what I consider obviously good, isn’t that obvious at all. A few years ago, in Florence, I had a minor religious experience at the literal hands of Michelangelo’s David. I knew, heading into the Accademia Gallery , that the statue was important in a broad Encyclopedia-Brittanica-sort-of-way. But I was surprised by how humbled I felt seeing Mike’s creation in the marble flesh. That someone could recreate any part of the human form, let alone hands (the bain of many human and robot art students alike), using some rock and a chisel, expanded my internal boundaries of artistic expression. To me, it was the furthest thing from pornography. It was artistic mastery, plain and simple. And yet, in recent weeks, some Florida parents have complained images of the statue are inappropriate for sixth-grade students.
Obviously good? Obviously not.
I’ve thought a lot about David since the supposed pornography of the piece was called into question, so it’s no surprise that my mind drew a comparison last night as I watched John Mayer command the stage for nearly two hours, completely solo. To say that Mayer is one of our best-living guitarists is no less obvious in my mind than saying David is an amazing sculpture. And yet, after last night’s performance, I think the point bears repeating. While the deep-cut heavy setlist dragged at some points (we got Into Your Atmosphere, I’m not complaining), the Solo Acoustic Tour succeeds by putting the sheer physicality of Mayer’s musicianship front and center. At times the 45-year-old seemed less singer-songwriter and more Olympic athlete, playfully pushing the limits of what his voice, hands, and mind could do. It was a sight to behold, in part because it challenged the very idea of what constitutes an arena performance. As he hammered his way up and down the fretboard on fan favourite Neon, I whispered to Leah. “This is guitar-guy Lebron James.” Strange syntax aside, I think she understood my point.
In this age of optimization and AI songwriting, there’s still no shortcut to mastery. Whether it’s carving stone, shooting threes, or shredding the double-neck guitar, your overall success in a given field is the result of Talent + Time + Luck. Nobody, I think, is more aware of this lopsided equation than John Mayer. Throughout the night, videos of his past life flashed across the screen that hung center stage, each marking a milestone album of his career. While it’s hard to know with certainty, due to the improvisational nature of his setlists, I couldn’t help but notice how many of the songs he chose to include touched on the passing of time. Even in his late 20s, Mayer seemed deeply attuned to life’s relentless pace. “So scared of getting older/I'm only good at being young,” he sang on Stop This Train, from 2006’s Continuum. “I can't take the speed, it's moving in.”
Roughly one quarter-life crisis later, he remains reflective, albeit more mellow. “Do you remember when you were younger/All the heartache and the hunger?” he muses on his new track, In The Neighborhood. It’s a line that conjures images of Mayer sitting on a front porch in Anywhere, USA, nestled between the many public failings of an all-knowing past, and the endless promise of a still unwritten future. As he breezed through his iconic cover of Tom Petty’s Free Falling, I couldn’t help but think how far John Mayer has come. He’s never had less to prove, and yet he’s never been better.