


Welcome aboard Jack Johnson Flight 1935, departing from Nampa, Idaho, and arriving in- magic fairyland. Our in flight movie is suburban white music, followed by a three course meal of ambitionless folk music.
With the ticket sales of around around 9,000, many were on hand at the Idaho Center to take part in the melodies of business-class musician Jack Johnson. All types of Idahoans were present. The strong and athletic males were outnumbered in the full cabin of teen girls. The male concert-
goers all appeared to be supervised by their middle-aged mothers, and the moms represented half of all the females.
With the main portion of the flight dedicated to heartthrob Jack Johnson, many saw through the turbulence of the opening bands as a blessing incognito.
First course: Animal Liberation Orchestra [ALO] pinnacled at the altitude of mediocrity. With a vague social stance, the opening band came across worthy in the eyes of their beholders. Crossing bold college music with Leonard Cohen intensity, ALO jammed in the August heat.
As many looked in the distance at the next act, a question was posed: “Who is Matt Costa?”
Putting their seats back, many gasped a sigh of relief as Costa became the final voice of creative fresh oxygen.
A native to the Southern California area, Costa has the makings of a Cinderella story. Being discovered by Johnson in an L.A. nightclub, the singer/songwriter has been graced with the fortune of being placed under Johnson’s wing to promote his new album, “Songs We Sing.”
The lesser-known was the most ambitious of the three acts and went over well with the welcoming crowd.
With the sun setting on the Idaho empire, Jack Johnston took control.
Like a Nazi gathering, Johnson played for a full amphitheater of white suburbanites. With a buzzed head and frivolous lyrics, Johnson’s musical talent was to the best of his abilities.
Without a beat or hint of rhythm, the crowd followed and paid close attention to the mundane melodies, forcefully cheering every key moment. A pop culture idea, one cheered and supported any notion because every one else was cheering the same. A great example in conformity, few on hand objected to the cookie cutter tunes.
A showcase of bubblegum music, slowed down to emulate the effect of tranquilizers went over well and the crowd bought into it.
Heart felt and repetitious, the presentation by Johnson was as follows:
“Do-do, dah-dah, dum-dum, dee-dee, dun-nuh.” Repeat.
Johnson’s music simulated a poppy cartoon airplane out of gas with all the passengers going down.
Caucasian and oblivious, the crowd sat enthusiastically through a 20-minute encore with butane lighters in avail. As one Bic clicked, the others did as well, because no one wants to be left out.
Finally going down in the rural outskirts of Southern Idaho, many fled the scene of one beautiful crash, regardless of its impact.
Dan McNeese / Culture Writer