Heavier Things

1	Clarity
2	Bigger Than My Body
3	Something's Missing
4	New Deep
5	Come Back to Bed
6	Home Life
7	Split Screen Sadness
8	Daughters
9	Only Heart
10	Wheel

Barnes & Noble

As befits its title, the follow-up to John Mayer's breakthrough album, Room for Squares, is less starry-eyed and noticeably more hardened -- but don't worry, fans, the singer-songwriter still wears his heart on his sleeve. Much of Heavier Things still centers on matters of that heart, but this time around, Mayer's having a little less luck. The shuffling, blues-tinged "Come Back to Bed" finds him unsuccessfully pleading with a lover to do just that, while the contemplative "Something's Missing" dares to dip into the deep end of the self-examination pool without offering any cut-and-dried answers. "Bigger than My Body," the disc's first single, uses a foundation that's not all that different than that of "Your Body Is a Wonderland," but its top layers are palpably rougher, thanks in part to Mayer's amped-up guitar playing. While hardly a 180-degree sonic turn from his previous offerings, Heavier Things does boast its share of adventures, such as the set-opening "Clarity," which gains added spice from guest spots by Roots drummer ?uestlove Thompson and trumpeter Roy Hargrove. If, as he's said himself, Room for Squares was Mayer's coming-of-age album, Heavier Things is an indication that while he may be all grown up, he's still willing to push himself in new directions. David Sprague

All Music Guide

Don't take the title of John Mayer's Heavier Things literally. Mayer offers nothing heavy on the follow-up to his breakthrough hit, Room for Squares -- nothing heavy in the music and nothing heavy in the lyrics. No, Mayer is smooth, slick, and streamlined on his second or third album (it all depends if you count his 1999 debut, Inside Wants Out, half of which was re-recorded for Room for Squares, which itself was released in two different incarnations), playing things straight and following the blueprint his big radio hit, "Your Body Is a Wonderland," provided. The title Heavier Things does reflect his new directness, lacking the lithe playfulness that resulted in a Hank Mobley joke, of all things, for an album title last time out. That extends to the rest of the album -- the humor and interesting wordplay have been toned down, leaving very little ambiguity. Actually, there's little left unexplained on the record, with every song on the album spread across several grids explaining where they were written and how many beats per minute they are, breaking them down into keywords, charting what "suggested target points" on the body the song should hit (tellingly, not one track is targeted at the crotch), and even grouping the songs together by key. The latter is a bit of a mistake, since it shows that for all those jazzy major and minor seventh chords gliding by in his songs, he's keeping his songwriting pretty simple, sticking to D, E, F, G, and A, with a G minor thrown in for good measure. This, of course, is not really a problem for listeners, since most listeners don't care how a song is written as long as it sounds good, but this does confirm that he's kept things simple, concentrating on how the record sounds and feels. And, as a piece of mood music, this is really quite effective, delivering on how "Your Body Is a Wonderland" sounds, with some really nice lush, laid-back textures and songs that are melodic without being truly catchy. It's music that floats through the speakers nicely and never leaves much of a lasting impression; it's how a jazzier, laid-back, less adventurous, and MOR-oriented Dave Matthews would sound. Mayer is now more of a record-maker than songwriter, which will undoubtedly dishearten those who liked the song-oriented Inside Wants Out, but those who just enjoyed the sound and feel of Room for Squares should feel right at home. Stephen Thomas Erlewine

Rolling Stone

The songs -- with the exception of the pop-funk "Only Heart," whose fast harmonies are almost as hook-mad as those in "No Such Thing" -- are sparser, no longer leaping for journalism-style detail and borderline-power-pop melodies. James Hunter