Bigger than my body.

Can I just rebel against the dominant paradigm for a minute here, and register my vote for John Mayer as the most monumental wanker to have ever lived?

Here's a guy, who can rape the style of Chris Whitley (badly), has the audacity to throw in a hefty dose of Chris Martin, then call it "pop music with the sensibilities of blues and jazz"?

It isn't.


Sit on it, Fonzie.

I just sat through an interview with him, where he was waxing lyrical on his latest body of work.

"This is my response to the first record, where I was restricted to the acoustic guitar, because I didn't have a band".

Since when do you get to do a response to your own albums?

Are you that important?

I would like to restrict you to an acoustic guitar also, but not in the way you're thinking.

More in the "Holy shit! Let me out!" kind of way.

He used the word "record" at least 56 gazillion-thousand times, as all "artists" do when educating you on why their particular brand of diarrhoea is so much better than the rest, and somehow comparable to real music, trailblazed and hard-fought by real musicians from times past.

According to John, it is an "impulsive record", it is "true to a moment", it's "less a matter of construction, and more a matter of impulse/release/discharge. There are no eraser marks on this record".

Yeah, that's coz you paid the engineer six trillion dollars, to edit the thing properly, have-sex-with-you-face.

He's right about the "discharge" part of things though, gotta give him that.

ANAL discharge.

Much has been made of the fact John has put away his acoustic guitar, and picked up a Stratocaster with a racing stripe on it, as if this somehow brings fresh promise to what truly is nothing new; especially if you ever went to University and knew a guy called Simon, who was influenced in equal measures by Tim Finn and Bob Marley.



John turns his back on a very grateful acoustic instrument.

In John's words "In a sense, this is my first love letter to the electric guitar."

Really? Wow!

Like, after Hendrix, and Clapton, Beck, and Page, Segovia, Van Halen, Iommi, Vai, Malmsteen, May, Gilmore, Scofield, Holdsworth, Williams, Allman, Young, Blackmore, Santana, Townsend, Frampton, Richards, Howe, Metheny, Summers, Fripp, Harper, Montgomery, MgLaughlin, Knopfler, Johnson, Prince, Vaughan, and every other fretboard genius this planet has been blessed with, we really need some creepy 27 year old Berkeley dropout from Connecticut to pen a love letter to an instrument that has seen more skill and originality being set on fire by a drugged out ex- Big Band player at Woodstock (the first one)?

Wait..."first love letter"?

You mean there's gonna be more???


What am I meant to do with this thing?

He's the musical equivalent of a kleptomaniac, only, he's the kind that comes to your house and steals your stuff, then knocks on the door 5 minutes later to show it all off.

How exactly the fuck did he win a Grammy?!

But worst of all, John has bad hair.
Like, one of those creepy Hebe hair-helmets, all curly and slightly reminiscent of a ducks ass.

And not in the good way.


Touch me inside my anus...

I have to give credit where credit is due though, and say he has nice eyes...for an asshole.

John, if you're reading this- Dave Matthews wants his act back.




This is knifey, from 'the internet'.