Every John Mayer Album, Ranked — Call It What You Will (2024)

*not including Inside Wants Out or live albums

Love him or hate him, John Mayer’s musical and social influence is undeniable, not to mention that it’s spanned the better part of two decades. John Mayer burst into the singer-songwriter pop scene with his 2001 debut album, Room for Squares, as a clean-cut boy from Connecticut. He established himself with hits like “Your Body is a Wonderland”, a song which made women across the globe swoon and earned him his first Grammy. After that, he garnered extensive media coverage for bombastic and controversial statements that, along with his music and a series of high-profile relationships, built Mayer a legendary reputation. His celebrity and mythos grew exponentially over time, resulting in him stepping out of the spotlight and away from public scrutiny for a few years. In that time, Mayer moved to Montana and released Born and Raised and Paradise Valley, both of which he barely performed live due to his granuloma and consequent vocal surgery. In 2017, Mayer came back to the pop culture stratosphere when he released The Search for Everything the same year of his 40th birthday. Mayer’s musical career has been an interesting ride, so let’s take a look back on it by reviewing and ranking his discography from worst to best.

To be blunt, this is Mayer’s most forgettable album. In all fairness, it’s hard to produce anything to follow up the critical and commercial hit Continuum, but this album definitely fell short. Despite this, Mayer at his worst is more insignificant than bad. Songs such as “Half of My Heart” and “Who Says” are wonderful Mayer classics, but the album as a whole feels like Mayer taking a victory lap and attempting to showcase his guitar prowess rather than genuine, artistic emotional expression. As far as content, the song “Assassin” (which Mayer years later said makes him uncomfortable because of its “predatory vibe” towards women) reveals the questionable mindset of Battle Studies-Era Mayer. This album contains of a few gems that are hidden amongst a rock star’s out-of-touch musings, bland songs with fluffy generalities about life, and 2 covers. What little Mayer had to say should’ve just been packed into a few songs for the next album rather than being cushioned with some filler songs and released as an album.

Best Song: “Who Says” is genuine and appropriately simple so that it perfectly evokes the feeling of looking down at city lights and having a quiet moment of personal reflection while alone on a Saturday night.

Worst Song: “Perfectly Lonely” sounds like something you’d hear played at the shopping mall, and the lyrical content is annoyingly large and vague in an attempt to be universal. We’ve all been single, John. We don’t need an unremarkable pop song to explain what that feels like.

This is an odd and transitional album in Mayer’s discography. After being shockingly vulnerable in Born and Raised and making such a departure from mainstream commercial music, Mayer seems in this album to be insecure and afraid to pick a direction or make a statement of identity. Named after the Montana valley where he first took up residence two years prior, Paradise Valley marks a period in which it’s unclear if Mayer wants to stay in his geographically and musically untraditional area, retreat further into that area, or move into the mainstream. Even within some songs, there is a clear indecision about what they are or what they should be. He tries pop and country sensibilities, though it’s overall his most experimental work to date. Thus it has the same problem as any experimental work: When it works, it achieves a unique power that couldn’t be possible through more traditional methods. When fails, it bombs hard and is utterly unenjoyable. This album includes some great songs, but they are outnumbered by truly bizarre tracks that aren’t good or bad so much as just . . . there.

Best Song: “Wildfire (feat. Frank Ocean)” is the standout note of this album. The sparse backing complements Ocean’s emotional vocal and the combination makes for the most impactful song on the album. This song is so beautifully subtle and concise that it accomplishes more in 88 seconds than the combined effort of the album’s 38 other minutes.

Worst Song: “I Will Be Found (Lost At Sea)” is uninteresting and a bit indulgent. This is a rough sketch of an idea for a song, not a finished product. The idea seems like it would probably be an interesting song, so it’s a shame that it doesn’t get properly fleshed out.

Mayer’s sophom*ore album is also his album with the fewest songs, and it packs a decent punch in its 45 and half minute play time. Mayer seems to have grown as a songwriter by playing with new textures, tempos, and themes (See: “Home Life”, a track that still stands out within Mayer’s discography). The album can essentially be divided into two halves: The first part is deeply rooted in Mayer’s manic, existentially confused birds-eye view of his life. This was a new genre of subject for Mayer and feels like a direct response to sudden, intense fame. This is the part of the album clearly deserves the title Heavier Things. The second part of the album goes back to Mayer’s lyrical bread and butter: women. Together, these songs tell the story of a tumultuous relationship that was equal parts love and dysfunction. This section riffs off of the debut album, yet creates its own unique identity as well. “Wheel” attempts to tie the two parts of the album together by incorporating both existential ramblings and reflections on a doomed relationship. Though the song doesn’t quite succeed in linking these ideas, it prevents the album’s lack of cohesion from being distracting. This is a good album- not bad, not great. It’s hard to pick a best and worst song from this album because essentially every piece of the album is solid.

Best Song: “Daughters” successfully grounded the subject of women with heavier things to keep the song from floating off into fluffy clouds of male-written pop. This song became an international anthem for women with daddy issues and the men who believe they can fix them. Mayer himself said that without the song as a single “people would have forgotten the Heavier Things album completely”.

Worst Song: “Something’s Missing” lives up to its title. It’s not a bad song, but it fails to really go anywhere with the idea: being stuck in life is a relatable feeling and a fine thing to write a song about, but music that gets stuck isn’t enjoyable to listen to.

The fastest way to summarize this album is to say the highs are high and the lows are low. Mayer’s debut album was good enough to earn him massive attention, an army of loyal fans, and an eternal place in every coffee shop’s playlist. Considering that it was his first album, it makes sense that he seems unsure of what his sound is. That said, a listen all the way through leaves the listener with musical whiplash from all the tonal shifts and even genre shifts. Many of his attempts at early 2000s pop hits haven’t aged well and feel as dated as any TV show starring Paris Hilton. Out of the more formulaic songs on the album, only “Your Body is a Wonderland” backs the clichéd, saccharine sentiments with enough conviction to be irresistible bubblegum-pop. Songs like “No Such Thing”, “Why Georgia”, “Neon”, and “Back to You” are a refreshing taste of the Mayer sound that he further developed in subsequent albums. As with any 24-year-old, Mayer’s taste was still developing and while he swings at a few tracks and misses, he also created some of his purest songs, which were formative in him carving out his musical niche.

Best Song: “Neon” is the biggest risk on Room For Squares, and it pays off. This is the most musically interesting song on the album, blending a groovy, staccato guitar line with smooth, hazy vocals and a catchy chorus. This is the earliest example of Mayer’s jazz-influenced songs showcasing his guitar talents.

Worst Song: “St. Patrick’s Day” is a mediocre ending to a good album. The album would’ve been better off without this song: the lyrical and musical content is lackluster but benign, but in a debut album, it’s better to have a concise statement of musical identity than muddle the statement with vague nothingness.

This is the most important album of Mayer’s and the one with the longest shelf life. After two major interviews that were met with wide criticism, Mayer soon moved to Montana and escaped notoriety. There, in insolation, his circ*mstances changed radically. After years of being (sometimes rightfully) assailed by the media, he was able, for the first time, to reflect on the whirlwind that was the decade since the release of his first album. Mayer was able to finally take the break that allowed him to close the chapter on the last decade, and this album is the introduction to the next chapter in his life. Battle Studies was the album where Mayer bought into his own music god mythology, yet only three years later he released Born and Raised, his most vulnerable and introspective album to date. He picks apart fame, aging, relationships (mostly familial and platonic), anxiety, and alcoholism. Reflecting Mayer’s personal attempt at humility and reinvention, he strips his former bombastic, electric guitar-driven identity to a textured yet minimalistic acoustic sound. The stark contrast between these albums is the most drastic shift in Mayer’s music career. Battle Studies is sparkly disco garb- flashy and meant to be seen. Born and Raised is one of those woven blankets with tassels around the edge that get passed down for generations - warm, comfortable, functional, and secretly ornate. Upon close inspection, the album’s beauty is in the carefully crafted artifice which thoughtfully conceals the intricacy of the art and the skill of the artist. Because of this, this album holds up incredibly well and breathes life into a heritage genre.

Best Song: “Born and Raised” is the thesis of this album. It’s no wonder that this song is the title track because it encapsulates everything this album is. It’s introspective, nostalgic, and quietly, heart achingly incisive about the existential fear Mayer works through. He unflinchingly portrays himself as a broken man and criticizes himself for having created the meaninglessness and isolation that he is now entrapped by. This song is the midpoint of the album and the heart of it.

Worst Song: “Something Like Olivia” is a good song, but it doesn’t belong on this album. Because the song’s lyrical content and sound disrupt this otherwise incredibly cohesive album, its inclusion seems like an attempt at a single for an otherwise not easily marketable album.

This album was Mayer’s comeback to the mainstream, and it is the album that best showcases his versatility. After a complete recovery from his vocal surgery, Mayer emerged from his obscure musical tangents and built an album with elements from every genre in his repertoire. Because of this diversity, the album is practically a greatest hits album for Mayer fans. This album feels familiar enough to fans that it is easily recognizable as Mayer (which cannot be said of Born and Raised or Paradise Valley, the 2 preceding albums), yet he experiments with his past sounds and brings in new elements to still create something new and fresh in his discography. It adapts to the musical climate of 2017 and pulls this off while still staying true to Mayer’s core. That carefully crafted blend keeps the album from seeming like a 39-year-old has-been pandering to a new, young demographic. The Search for Everything is a collage of music, and there is truly something for everybody in this album because it does justice to every one of the many sounds it takes on.

Best Song: “Still Feel Like Your Man” is the reintroduction Mayer needed to emerge back into the musical scene boldly with a new sound for a new era. It has elements of his past work and the 2017 pop scene, but still has a unique, groovy sound that carves him out a new musical niche. This song was essential in his career because without this song the album couldn’t accomplish the reinvention and reintroduction that he needed.

Worst Song: “Roll It On Home” is an homage to the most obscure section of Mayer’s discography (the Born and Raised and Paradise Valley Era). The song is good and could’ve been a nice cut on either one of those albums, but on this album, especially given the song’s placement within the album, the song feels sorely out of place.

If somebody with no exposure to John Mayer were to ask where to start in listening to his music, this is the album most people would point to. The third album is often decisive in musicians’ careers in that it proves if a musician’s reputation/career is sustainable. This album showcases Mayer’s talent and proves exactly why his first two albums’ successes were anything but a fluke. This is also the first album of his that told listeners exactly what they could expect to hear from him moving forward. He refined his musical identity in the first two albums, and here he emerges, having tapped into gold, to announce to the world what he can do. The album has a definite through-line and cohesion, but still has diversity and life. There isn’t a bad song on this album. It has a song for every situation. While some of those situations may be dated (see: “Waiting on the World to Change”), the album is able to grow with listeners because the songs, like good books, take on new depths and meanings for listeners throughout different periods of their lives. Even those who have no idea who John Mayer is have probably heard a song off of this album. It transcends gender, race, socioeconomic background, nationality, and age, yet not at the expense of quality. The reason why this album is so successful is that all kinds of people were able to connect with it, yet the album isn’t hollowly forcing generalities for mass-appeal.

Best Song: “I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You)” typifies a lot of what Mayer does best on this album and in general. This is a blues-y track that is still accessible to pop. It simmers, keeping control but just on the brink of something, and this fits the lyrical content perfectly. Playful, honest, and a little bit co*cky, the song takes on some of the characteristics of Mayer himself.

Worst Song: “Bold as Love” is a great song. Mayer covers it well, the album needed this kind of song, and it’s well-placed in the track listing. The problem is that he didn’t do anything different with the Jimi Hendrix Experience’s song, so it feels like Mayer copy-pasted a chunk of somebody else’s work into the album because he lost steam towards the end. A good cover, especially one released on an album, isn’t a copy of another person’s song - it’s a riff off of somebody else’s idea.

Credit for cover image goes to Daniel Prakopcyk, who can be reached at https://www.prakopcyk.com/ or at @Daniel on Instagram