3 minute read
OF MONEY AND MEMORY
from Playboy 2010 03
by peter
(continued from page 32) show you” instinct is still alive and well. Now, instead of “We don’t think you can do it,” it’s “We think you’re a douche bag.” PLAYBOY: Do you still have a chip on your shoulder? MAYER: Yep. I have an extremely tall antenna that reaches high into the sky and brings in a lot of cool stuff but also a lot of unnecessary stuff. If I hadn’t had my upbringing, I would have probably been like, “Yeah, this is fun. Cool.” But right now I still have “See? See, motherfucker?” PLAYBOY: You put in a lot of hours playing the guitar, but it also seems you were quick to pick up music theory, harmony, composition. MAYER: I’m wired for it. I’m lucky I found a thing I was wired for, and I found it at 13. I’ve already won one of the biggest gambles of all time, which was to forgo an education so I could pursue a real all-or-none scenario. I look pretty fucking smart for having done that, though it doesn’t change the fact that it was crazy. PLAYBOY: You have a level of self-consciousness that seems like it could be exhausting. MAYER: Maybe that’s the douche bag part of it. Maybe I’m so meta-aware that it’s off-putting to people. But I’m old enough to know I need to change. I’m getting tired of the illusion of control. I think I’ve made my best record now, at my lowest point of confidence. PLAYBOY: You wanted to become a rock star, and now that you are one, it’s ruined your confidence? That’s odd. MAYER: Lately I’ve realized it’s okay to enjoy being a rock star. Like, it might actually be fun to wear sunglasses in the airport and sit in the first-class lounge as a fucking rock star who’s about to go on a world tour. I had related it to something so painful, so frustrating, so confusing, that it would give me a tension headache. Being a famous musician seemed to have brought misunderstanding and strife and a fist in the back of the head when I read something about myself. I wrote this line yesterday: “Someday soon these will just be things we used to do.” I’m sort of making a list of all the things I know I’m going to laugh at myself for taking so seriously. PLAYBOY: So you can already imagine your future? MAYER: This is going to sound odd, but sometimes I meet the 40-year-old me and say, “What do I do?” And 40-year-old me says, “Don’t do every scheduled interview. Go to the zoo instead. You’re going to be fine, you knucklehead. Stop overthinking what people say.” I’m trying to fold over time, to see it as a random-access hard disk where I can move to any point in time and change the way I see today. PLAYBOY: What you describe sounds like a conversation between a father and a son. Can you talk like that with your dad? MAYER: My dad is 82. I love him so much, but the way I communicate with him is by fixing his printer or the closed-captioning on his TV. These are the bonding moments we have. PLAYBOY: Did kids make fun of the fact that your dad is almost 20 years older than your mom? MAYER: No, they’d just say, “Your grandfather’s here.” PLAYBOY: Is your heritage Jewish? MAYER: I’m half Jewish. People say, “Well, which side of your family is Jewish?” I say, “My dad’s.” And they always say it doesn’t count. But I will say I keep my pool at 92 degrees, so you do the math. I find myself relating to Judaism. One of my best friends is Jewish beyond all Jews—I went to my first Passover seder at his house—and I train in Krav Maga with a lot of Israelis. PLAYBOY: You said there are still things you don’t have. What are those things? MAYER: I could make anybody understand that my life is not all rainbows and unicorns, but why would I want to? I’m sort of selling them the idea that it’s rainbows and unicorns. I could explain that, in fact, I’m not a douche bag, but that would be at the expense of believing in magic. I don’t want to tear down the facade. People want to imagine that if they get a record deal, they can buy a Ferrari. People need that. I don’t want to take that away from people. Anything I don’t have is a direct descendant of the things I do have. I mean, let’s say there’s a 12 percent chance I’ll never marry and have kids