‘Day One’ is Johan Hoffman’s fourth full length album and looking back over five previous reviews of his work since we first encountered him I realised just how varied it can be. Over time we’ve connected him with P J Harvey, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, The Animals and the likes of the 1960’s Cold War doomsayers Zager & Evans and Hedgehoppers Anonymous
The latter two were notable for their dystopian and depressing yet surprisingly chirpy and upbeat ‘In the Year 2525’ and ‘It’s good news week’ (which even identified ‘climate change’ in 1965, it’s not surprising they were previously known as The Trendsetters).
Every era has its stars (perhaps that should be Black Holes?) in that category and Johan fits the zeitgeist perfectly with some of his songs; they are certainly the ones that resonate the most with me, out of a wide catalogue of hard-hitting material.
And that’s the main reason I chose this track, ‘Manifest’ as the sample track from the album. It opens with exactly the same reverbed power guitar chord that you would expect from one of those gloomy 1960s masterpieces and while I’m not a muso I reckon there’s a isn’t a single major key in it anywhere. This one doesn’t get chirpy and upbeat, no sir.
If I read the story right it is one of faux ambition, told in reverse. At the beginning the subject has reached all his objectives, a bit like Diddy did and look what happened to him.
He’s got “a house in Hollywood” (actually you wouldn’t want to live there mate, it’s a crap hole, get yourself into the Hills and Valleys), “All the money in the world” and by implication a pad out in Malibu as well, presumably in the bit that didn’t burn down.
Then he’s on a spaceship to the Moon (say hello to 3I/Atlas as it whizzes past!) where he’s “gonna live a thousand years” and by now everything he touches turns to gold (but within a minute it “gets old” – he needs ever more possessions and bling).
But then the question occurs retroactively as he reverts to the time when he coveted these things that others had:
“Why not me instead/Why not me instead”.
Regressing further back in time he acknowledges his attributes and they will help him achieve his goals:
“Got a million dollar smile/See myself in every eye/Like a god I never die/Couldn’t catch me if you try/Gonna make it really soon/I can feel it in my bones”.
And then, with a bang as he falls back to Earth,
“I’ll be me instead/I’ll be me instead/I’ll be me instead/I’ll be me instead” – having ‘looked forward’ rather than back on that plastic ‘dream’ life ahead he chooses instead what passes for the humdrum but which has far greater worth – that of the Average Joe, on the bus making his way home but with the respect of his neighbours and his peers. The guy epitomised in Deacon Blues’ ‘Dignity’.
And that is manifestly true.
To add emphasis to the lyrics as usual he uses only his voice together with a Stratocaster recorded through a Supro amp, together with occasional bass guitar or subtle Moog synthesiser. You don’t need to go to Abbey Road to record great music any more than you need to live in Malibu to get a suntan.
And talking Hollywood has he slipped a couple of movie references into the song? My attention was caught for sure by “Couldn’t catch me if you try”.
Johan Hoffman is the thinking man’s writer of the 2020s. He says more on one song in this album – ‘Sevilla’ – than Taylor Swift does on the whole of her new album, released on the same day.
And it’s an instrumental.
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