By CATHRIN SCHAER
While they may recognise his music, Jack Johnson's fans may not always recognise him. On the cover of his album, Brushfire Fairytales, he wears a raincoat and his features are made smudgy by dripping water. In most of his publicity shots he's blurry or turning away from the camera.
Believe it or not, this is deliberate. No, it's not that Johnson is hideously disfigured (in fact, it's almost the opposite).
"It's just that I kind of like it that people don't know what I look like," says the guitar player and songwriter whose Brushfire Fairytales is best described as the sleeper hit of the early New Zealand summer.
"So when I do publicity I try to hide my face a little. Eddie told me when he started doing music videos and showing his face clearly, that's when everything changed," Johnson explains. Then he pauses and adds an almost embarrassed afterthought. "Um, that's Eddie Vedder," he explains, haltingly. "He's kind of a friend now."
That kind of adorable reluctance to name-drop is typical of Johnson.
Johnson grew up in Hawaii near the infamous Banzai Pipeline surf break. His father was a renowned surfer and Jack started surfing when he was 5. Although music has always played a part in his life, for most of his youth he was much more likely to become a professional surfer than a professional musician.
By the time he was 17 he had a contract as a professional surfer and became the youngest invitee to Pipe Masters, one of the world's biggest surfing contests.
Once again he's modest about his achievements.
"Oh, most of the kids in Hawaii are pretty good," is his disclaimer. "Most of my friends turned professional."
Johnson learned to play guitar early. He started when he was 15 because his family used to enjoy a good old-fashioned singalong on the porch to tunes by Cat Stevens or Van Morrison. But he had never taken his guitar playing seriously.
However, when one near-fatal wipeout - he dived head-first into a rock - left him with more than 100 stitches, no front teeth, hardly any lips, concussion and two months out of the water, the bored young man began to play more, even writing a few songs.
That accident wasn't the end of his surfing, but he never pursued professionalism afterwards. So at age 22 Johnson went from being in front of the camera to behind it. Away on surf trips with his expert surfer friends, he made several acclaimed 16mm movies about the sport. And on those trips the songwriting continued.
Perhaps because of this, the first place Johnson's music was heard publicly was on the soundtracks of his films. People liked it - guys would paddle up to him in the water and ask about his music - so he made recordings for friends. Then he began playing at small live gigs and finally, having gathered fans among other musicians, surfers and students, Johnson made it into a recording studio.
Today his tunes are acoustic meditations on love and life - sweet, sad and funny in the same folksy vein as Ben Harper, many of them composed while Johnson was in or near the water. And if there's a message, it's that the courteous and kind Mr Johnson wants his music to make people's lives better.
The resulting album, Brushfire Fairytales, has been a slow-burning hit in the US and here. And when he flies to New Zealand in March for some live shows, Johnson will be printing "musician" on the card where immigration asks about his occupation, where once he wrote "surfer" or "film-maker".
A boardshorts-to-designer-label-suits story then? "I guess so," Johnson is laidback. "In some sense. But then again it's funny because this wasn't really what I was banking on. I never really expected this and it hasn't changed how happy I am."
What makes this 26-year-old, who has moved back to Hawaii after eight years in California, happy is still the same thing. You guessed it - surfing, up to three times day.
"All the attention isn't really where I get my happiness. When all the music stuff gets too overwhelming I just go surfing."
"Yeah, the concert thing is fun too," is his answer when asked what gives him the biggest buzz, getting a barrel or an enthusiastic crowd of concert-goers?
"And it's not like I'm trying to say it's not a big deal. But that's still something that makes you feel human. But when you get an amazing ride [surfing] you don't even feel like you're human any more. It's incredible. And I just feel so fortunate to be able to do that."
And on that harmonious note, Johnson has to go. The waves are good, his friends have just arrived and it's time for his second surf of the day.
Jack Johnson's riding the wave of success
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