Jack Johnson: Awake Through the Static

“It was kind of a comment on our culture, on what’s going on.”

The Bowery Hotel wants to pamper you with its plush sofas and soft light. An echo of a New York that never was, the hotel is comfortable and solid, carefully designed to help you relax. In other words, it seems like the perfect place to listen to a Jack Johnson album—his breezy guitar and gentle lyrics a perfect match for the hotel’s warmth and comfort.

But with new album Sleep Through The Static, Johnson is not out to soothe or comfort anyone. During a recent listening session at the hotel, “All at Once,” the record’s elegiac opening track, immediately breaks the Bowery’s gentle spell: Around the sun some say it’s gonna be the new hell some say / It’s still to early to tell some say / It really ain’t no myth at all / Keep asking ourselves are we really strong enough / There’s so many things that we got too proud of. With its brooding piano and minor chords, it’s a haunting opening—the darkest point on an album that refuses to accept easy answers. Static balances its dark material with quiet, wistful love songs, and the result is ambiguous, which is exactly what Johnson wanted.

“Sometimes I ask myself, 'Would I listen to my music?' I’m not sure if i would or not, to be honest.”

As we sit in an epic ballroom with a fireplace that’s larger than your average hotel room, Johnson remains grounded. I ask him about his last album, the soundtrack to the Curious George movie, wondering whether the record (Sing-A-Longs and Lullabies for the Film Curious George) was a clever screw-you to critics who’ve accused him of being too soft and too safe? Well, yes, he says. “Sometimes, I like to disarm people. I can see a lot of the reasons why I might get attacked by people who like edgy music. The funny thing is I never really tried to make any claims of being like a rock band or whatever.”

Static shows that Johnson is comfortable with musical growth, but it’s definitely growth on his own terms. There are more instruments than ever before—keyboards, electric guitar, even a Moog synthesizer—and more dynamic range: Johnson and his producer, J.P. Plunier, intentionally made the loud songs louder and the soft songs softer.

Despite Johnson’s light touch, Sleep Through the Static is not an escape from heaviness. “It’s not just like, ‘Things are tough, but don’t worry—everything’s OK.' It’s, ‘Things are tough—I feel alright sometimes, but, man, it can be overwhelming.'”

“Hopefully it’ll catch on and change the industry a little bit in a small way.”

Before politics ever appeared in his music, Johnson was taking the world seriously. In the back of a Cadillac Escalade on the way to the hotel, he tells me that his record company, Brushfire, is committed to environmentally friendly packaging. As Johnson’s popularity and name-recognition grow, his plans get bigger. His 2008 world tour will expand upon the EnviroRider, his ambitious guide to green touring. (The conflict between the EnviroRider and the Escalade goes unmentioned, but at one point the singer/songwriter admits, “I just as often sleep through the static.”)

Back at the hotel, Johnson describes Brushfire as a civic-minded enterprise. After a favorable deal with Universal, Johnson committed to helping other artists, including Rogue Wave and G. Love & Special Sauce. “Our label is almost more of a co-op thing,” Johnson says. “People can come and now they have control of their stuff because they’re part of our deal.” In a way, Johnson’s business model mirrors his artistic approach on Static—it’s all about looking inside to figure out the contradictions, then looking out at the world to see what can be done about them.