Jason Mraz performed a two hour private show for me in his living room.

Okay, not true. But his show sure felt that way.

Mraz’ recent “acoustic tour of the curbside prophets” is a purposefully geared-down departure from his polished pop, Matrix produced, debut album – an attempt to re-create the intimate relationship with his audiences reminiscent of his unsigned days. For the uninitiated, Mraz first came to fame performing across the San Diego coffee house circuit, eventually near-claiming residency at the infamous Java Joes Coffee House. By feverishly returning to his jazzy and acoustic roots, on this tour Mraz set out to “deliver the songs… in the way the songs were created, with just me and my guitar,” (or so says his quote in the handbill).

Mission accomplished.

As the show started, I truly didn’t know what to expect. I have mixed emotions about The Centre — while the acoustics are fantastic and the room is neither too big nor too small, it’s still a sit-down venue, which is not my preference. The crowd was diverse – a mix of teenaged girls (which I expected, as he has earned “heart-throb” status amongst the youngin’s), but also a scattering of older folks which surprised me - my personal belief is that Mraz’ sound is a far cry from the “adult contemporary” envelope critics seem to pointlessly want to shove him into. But within one minute of the show starting, I forgot all the over-analytical stuff, got comfortable, and enjoyed.

The show was a mix of new treats (Flying My Guilt, God Rests In Reason), popular favorites (The Remedy, The Right kind of Phrase) pared down to beautiful simplicity, crowd-pleasing covers given the Mraz treatment (Rainbow Connection, Summer Breeze), and witty banter most artists would die for. Despite the guise of being a shy-guy, Mraz has an unbelievable sense of humor, timing, and unmatched ability to remain playful on stage. This is the true treat of a live Mraz show – he’s not just reproducing his cd, he’s right there, in the moment, feeding off the audience, and in turn constantly improvising both lyrics and arrangement as he deems fit. Tonight was no exception; he even went as far as turning the standard Mraz set list convention on its head. He opened with a bang, and then slowed things down as the night progressed. Jason took his upbeat radio songs and presented them in more introspective and tender ways. He even dabbled with fusion, combining elements of jazz, be-bop, and scat with his pop sensibilities. This kind of approach could easily come across as tacky or perhaps cliché. Not Mraz, despite being only in his mid 20’s, he’s able to gently and elegantly leverage musical sounds and styles well before his time.

In researching to prepare for the show, I found far too many writers classifying Mraz as a light-rock, made for Much More Music artist. The other side of the review fence attributes his fame to being a “hottie.” Admittedly, he has a softer sound, but just because he isn’t littered with piercing and wrenching out electric guitar solos doesn’t make him today’s Gordon Lightfoot. And yes, the chorus of teenaged girl voices singing along to every song was a testament to his heart-throb status. But these easy classifications forget his energy and playfulness and, more importantly, his talent. Luckily, he takes it all in stride. From atop his stool perch, Mraz explains how his dad had a collection of records by guys sitting on stools, comparing (tongue-in-cheek, of course) his own style to theirs – a blatant commentary on his shitty press.

To throw a twist on the whole experience, I brought my 60-something-year-old mom to the show. At the outset, I was worried. Would she find it too loud… even with the earplugs I brought her? Would the chorus of teenaged girls be too much for her to take? Was her “I feel like a chaperone on a band trip” comment a good thing or a bad thing? But in the end, she loved it. Walking out of the theatre she was raving like a gushing fan girl, who would only be a third of her age. Captivated by his voice and intrigued by his blend of folk, scat, jazz and pop, she struggled to compare Mraz to someone in her frame of reference. Paul Simon and James Taylor came to mind – back to those records of guys sitting on stools. But, more interestingly, she couldn’t believe that young folks (or even those of us closer to 30) would be into him. Which tells me that even despite my bias, Mraz has a sound that transcends falsely forced boundaries of age, style, genre.

Elsewhere

By Tanya Volk
Photos : jasonmraz.com
Published : March 2005.