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Donavon Frankenreiter is a surfer, singer, and the latest in an increasingly long line of mediocre artists dominating FM radio that begins with Dave Matthews and his pseudo Cat Stevens warbling. In his sizeable wake came Ben Harper, John Mayer and Jack Johnson, who produced this infinitely forgettable debut. This stuff exists so Clear Channel stations can have something new to bump on New Release Tuesdays, brand name mainstream certified middle-of-the-road pop pap, music with all the care and heart of a Mentos jingle. The lyrics are an unremitting string of hoary clichés where Frankenreiter is looking to the sea until he catches his butterfly girl one day, oh yeah baby, one day. The music itself? Well, if you've heard any of Jack's tunes then you know what you're in for.
The photo inside the cover of a spread legged Donavon in front of a monster stack of Marshall amps reminds one of Lisa Simpson's wish for a cute boy who's just a little bit bad. His artfully composed scruff is tailor made for People Magazine shoots and shy VH1 appearances. More than a few songs have the vibe of background muzak for Food Network or E! Channel segments. This is the sound of the Real World as envisioned by Viacom, Coke, and Nike. Albums like this add nothing to the musical spectrum and exist merely to keep this sound around on airwaves until Johnson, Harper, or one of the other soundalikes gets around to a releasing something new. Frankenreiter will be huge but I hope he understands that his success is given to him and not earned by its own merits.
Dennis Cook
JamBase | California
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