Surf music's prodigal son returns

Jack Johnson's "Sleep Through the Static" neither sleepy nor static

By Ossie Bladine

My roommate makes fun of me for owning two Jack Johnson  albums on vinyl. I use the excuse that the ladies enjoy it. (For the record, my roommate loves Iron Maiden and owns a Ratt poster.)

I've been a fan of Johnson's since I first heard "Middle Man" on the surf movie, Loose Change. The best thing about his music is that critiques of it are pointless - at least more pointless than most. The nature of the man is laid-back, and he makes music that reflects it. People dig that, no matter how many mediocre reviews Rolling Stone wants to give him. They say this album "marks a tentative step forward for this improbable superstar." I say this step is just like any other for this regular guy.

I didn't enjoy Johnson's third album, "In Between Dreams", as much as I did the first two. So when it came to his latest, "Sleep Through the Static", I wasn't expecting more than another nice album with pleasant melodies and songs fashioned after the changing of the tides.

After several listens, though, I think it's nice.

Johnson and publicists have deemed this a dark, contemplative removal from the surfer-turned-musician's sunny acoustic persona. There are not any bonfire sing-along songs about bubble toes or banana pancakes, if that's what you're looking for. But there is plenty of self-reflection. The album is dedicated to Johnson's cousin, who died during the album's recording.

The first three tracks are not great songs, but they make a great opening to an album. "All At Once" sets the nostalgic tone - "All at once / The world can overwhelm me ... Sometimes it feels like a heart / Is no place to be singing from at all," he sings. A subtle accordion segues into the title track, an obscure contemplation of war with a lazy reggae beat similar to "The Horizon Has Been Defeated" from his 2003 album "On and On". "Hope," with Zach Gill (now a full-fledged member of the band) leading the beat on a keyboard, is a classic Jack tune that gently rolls from verse to chorus and back again.

From there, the album kind of spirals into a bit of introspective background music. The only unfortunate moments are the awkward filler hums. "Angels," a Ben Harper-like love ballad, has some oh's and mm's; Johnson does a lot of woo-ing on "If I had Eyes;" and I can't put the sound he makes on "Losing Keys" into text, but it's not pleasant. "Losing Keys," the closer, is the only disappointing song on the album. It seems like the album finishes in the middle. Maybe it just needs to grow on me.

Johnson is craftier now with his songwriting. Many of his lines are like a "before and after" phrase. "Make them intomonsoons / Turn them into monsoon-er or later / They'll weep their way back to the sea," he sings on "Monsoon." And from the title track: "We say anytime, anywhere, just show your teeth and strike the fear / Of god wears camouflage, cries at night, and drives a dodge / Pick up the beat and stop hogging the feast."

The production is handled by Harper's producer, JP Plunier, who helped Johnson create "Brushfire Fairytales". Johnson opts for the electric guitar on a few tracks.This switch gives a variation in sound but the vibe remains the same. The keyboard makes its presence felt and the accordion mixes things up here and there.

All in all, it's still Jack Johnson music, which is always a good thing in my book. "Sleep Through the Static" will still please those who like Johnson for who he is, and probably disgust those devoted to "Hallowed Be Thy Name" and "Round And Round". No matter how contemplative he tries to be, Johnson is still a feel-good musician, and if my roommate doesn't like that, he can go to hell.