Posts from 28th January 2003

28
Jan 03

JOHN MAYER — ‘Your Body Is a Wonderland’ (redirect for the prosecution)

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If he’s so full of poetic wonder and awe, why does he sing these lyrics like he’s reading an encyclopedia? What woman is going to be flattered by having lecherous lyrics unemotionally intoned at her by someone who gives the impression that they’d rather be watching football than sing to her as she stretches out naked on the bed before him?

(Further discussion should probably happen in the comments or on ILXOR, I’m guessing.)

JOHN MAYER — ‘Your Body Is a Wonderland’ (a conscientious rebuttal)

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This isn’t the wonderland you’d find a hyperactive grade-school kid pinballing through — sure, the kid’s happy to pull on pant leg & dress hem screaming MOMMY DADDY LET’S GO HERE I WANNA SEE MICKEY WHERES MICKEY MOMMMMMY!, but what about their flagging enthusiasm? Undoubtedly, their once-boundless happiness at seeing little Horatio geek over Captain EO for the 15th time becomes subsumed by sore legs and crotchety financial concerns and those ever-so-brief thoughts to distract their bundle of joy with nice animated rodentia while exiting stage left for a quick soak and a quicker snog.

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JOHN MAYER – “Your Body Is A Wonderland”

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JOHN MAYER – “Your Body Is A Wonderland”

I decided this morning that i would take on the following challenge; I’d pick a song I didn’t particularly like and write about it without going off on a ranting screed. Dear readers, if only you knew how hard this is for me! Even now, I sit here with finger trembling, every nerve in my body aching to type invective and derision as if I was psyching myself up for a pit fight. But NO I SHALL NOT SUCCUMB.

So, this song has been making its way up the top 40 for some time now. What can you really say about it? John Mayer has a passable singing voice, I guess; he doesn’t hit any wrong notes, even though his nasal burr is slightly less soothing than having porcupine quills lovingly stuck in you arms by an evil witch- WOAH I am breaking my rules. Let’s try this again.

To Mr. John Mayer: Really, would it have killed you to invest some energy in the song? From what I can tell, the fact that this lovely lady’s body is a wonderland laid out for your enjoyment excites you as much as looking up the oil company in the phone book. Everything about the song screams “safe middlebrow music”. There’s no bite, no hook, no ANYTHING for the listener to engage with besides vaguely pleasant, forgettable guitar and vaguely unpleasant, forgettable singing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this song, partially because they play it to death on Boston morning radio (and BOY do I regret that our bathroom radio is stuck on KISS 108), but mostly because despite the countless times I’ve heard it, I only have a vague recollection of how it goes. All I really remember is deep irritation and pain while it’s playing; once it’s over, I find myself somewhat puzzled as to why I was so irritated. Perhaps I should give the song points for giving some insight into what it’s like to live the life of the main character of “Memento”, but I’d much rather hope and pray that I never ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER had to hear it again.