An open letter to John Mayer
Dear John,Hmm, that doesn't open very well does it? I guess we'll have to blame your mother for that and move on. I was listening to your music tonight, thinking about the relationship I've had with it and to some degree you, for the past 8 years. Now, I don't know you personally. We've never met, much less had coffee, established a friendship or even something more meaningful. However, I feel as though I have come to know you to some degree through your music. I'm sure this is the intention of every artist, and it is a testament to your talent at how successful you are at putting into words the sentiments of our generation. Confusion, loneliness, indecision, love (or what we can only hope is love) is all there for the world to hear and feel. I think the secret of your success lies in the fact that your songs are never condescending. The don't preach, they simply reveal your perception of the experience. Your guitar skills aren't shabby either.
So when did it all go downhill? When did you go from being a rock star that only occasionally granted a terribly clever interview to what appears to be a total media junkie?
It begs the questions: When did you start reading your own press? And more to the point, WHY did you start reading your own press?? Wasn't counting your Grammies enough? Hundreds of thousands of fans pay obscene amounts of money to attend your concerts. Your songs are top 40 and famous artists would give a kidney to work with you on projects. When did that stop being enough? When did it PUBLICLY become about insecure blondes and tabloids? Your private life used to be exactly that- private. And I loved your for it, I truly did. It was cool that you wrote for Rolling Stone, because that was a tiny glimpse. But This? This is too much. This is the part where I interject a note about work/life balance.
Work is work. Music, recording, concerts, award shows-That's work, and that's public. Family, relationship and for god sakes breakups-those are private. Don't tell your publicists, and it goes without saying (at least I thought it did) that you don't tell the paps. Because we know you dumped her. Obviously you dumped her, she's an insecure old lady who is worried about her ovaries shriveling. You are a handsome, famous man with chicken heads throwing themselves at you 24-7. We see who is wearing the pants in the situation. Move on and let her save face, she has the world's pity, don't lose sleep.
This got a little long winded on me, sorry about that. What I've been meaning to say is this: your music is awesome. You used to appear awesome, and now you appear desperate. How the hell did that happen? Bottom line- you are better than this sh-t. So stop it, right now. Fire your publicist. Fire her publicist. Go underground. Need tips? Call Joshua and Diane, or Ryan and Rachel, hell even Ashton and Demi are better at it that you have been.
One final note: The next album better not be about desperate wanna-be's that stalk you and demand commitment, otherwise 'we' are friends off.
Your (once) loyal fan,
Christine
posted by This love gets easier the more it's sung to @ 9:58 PM
