ohmygod, this Jason Mraz fellow sucked, badly. (Compared to sucking well, which I might say Phair did, both because I didn't hate her show and it feeds into her whole sexual thing, you know).
He had a big audience of folks who probably also saw Counting Crows on Friday. They sang along to all of it (or what I saw, which was snippets as I popped up from the Back Bar to see what it was all about). It's adult-oriented 'rock.'
From AMG:
Jason Mraz's Waiting for My Rocket to Come is a two-part invention. The first level is that of a young, almost compelling, singer/songwriter. Mraz has a nice voice, perhaps a little too articulated at times, which manages to mostly avoid the histrionic despite a predilection towards show tuney melodic turns. His voice tumbles out on top of folk-reggae rhythms that will probably sound a bit dated with time, but his vocals are filled with enough internal rhythms and rhymes to keep them interesting. Lyrically, Mraz relies on cliché to a certain degree, but does so with an earnestness that allows for believability and an eye for imagery that succeeds often enough to suggest that he knows what he's doing. The second level of Waiting for My Rocket to Come is the production of John AlagÃa, whose work has enhanced other similar folk-pop fair, including the Dave Matthews Band and O.A.R. His work with Mraz is, at its best, transparent, filling out the songs with subtle and glossy production and instrumentation. Reflections of banjos, organs, mellotrons, lap steels, ukuleles, and others peak out through the shine of the tunes, creating an impact too rich to be written off as lite. â?? Jesse Jarnow
