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Column in Esquire magazine

"The Resident Rock Star"

Monthly musings from our cultural advisor.

by John Mayer

ESQUIRE HAS GIVEN ME a third of a page to write whatever I please. Evidently it's bad form to sell it for ad space (sorry, Jim Ellis Ford and Mercury Dealers). So this month, I thought I'd share with you a new musician whose music's got me seriously worked up. But first, to gain your trust, a sampling of things I think I believe.

The White Stripes: I like them, but I don't see how they're in any way a manifestation of the blues.

The Neptunes: I could use their touch on my next record. 

N.E.R.D.: Could use my touch on their next record.

The Beatles: I've missed too many episodes to follow the plot.

Kanye West: At last, hip-hop turns the hazards off and gets the flat tire fixed.

Ryan Adams: Wants it so bad, he became it.

John Mayer, Heavier Things: B minus. Am I the only one who finds this record creepy to make out to?

Put this CD on: Good albums come with learning curves, and great albums give you something good to chew on while you're waiting for dinner to cook. I find myself chewing on another song off Nellie McKay's debut record, Get Away from Me, about once every two days. While Joss Stone is busy being minted Miss Power of Suggestion 2004, this 19-year-old has quietly released one of the best albums of the year. Get Away from Me is a breakthrough album. It's also the kind of eclectic album that record companies don't traditionally have a clue what to do with. Based in jazz and borrowing heavily from musical theater, the environments are elaborately painted set pieces. Every melody--every musical event--is fully realized. In fact, there's more music in McKay's head than she knows what to do with. The next Joshua Tree it ain't, but 18 tracks on two discs ensure that if you can get past the fact that she raps without flinching on several songs, someday you'll get to hearing them all.

Next month: Ways for lazy industry haters to get excited about the music again.