Is it possible to get angry at a Jack Johnson gig? Despite being sniffer-dogged while feeling mildly captive amongst the detention-centre fencing, I’d say not really. But to watch little old ladies have their picnic blankets dismissed and stools cloakroomed because of “security measures”, then to walk in and find every third bum sitting on nice, soft, non-grassy seats at the decidedly gargantuan space that is Centennial Park, I say yes, dammit, it is possible to get angry at a Jack Johnson gig. We’re seeing Jack Johnson, not entering the Green Zone!

But fuming outbursts aside, an outdoor concert is the perfect event to showcase the ever-pleasing Jack Johnson, not the least being a prime excuse to show off his equally pleasing friends. I sampled the end of Will Conner’s set from the hold-up at the gates, his tunes securing Byron Bay’s reputation as the surfing capital of Australia in both melody and practice. He did well to expand his fan base past the shores of his hometown, drawing appreciative applause from the audience. His mellow guitar was nicely balanced with vocals reminiscent of Jason Mraz – if he ever decided to take a really long island holiday.

Indeed, – œmellow’ seemed to be the word of the day as Matt Costa took to the stage, interlacing the Beatles ’ early hopeful melodies with whimsical thoughts by The Shins via Mr Pitiful. Ironically enough, my familiarity with the muso extended as far as his latest album, Unfamiliar Faces, though his presence was definitely lauded by the growing and enthusiastic crowd. His new songs, though, didn’t seem to hold their own against their unfamiliar, though admittedly more creative and aggressive, predecessors.

Despite some wishful thinking over the possibility that Ben Harper might be the special guest for the night, G. Love and Special Sauce served an aurally scrumptious entrée to the cruisy crowd – via a personal introduction by Jack Johnson himself. G. Love’s presence on stage outdid Matt Costa and Will Conner, as he invoked the perennial blues artist and a particular brand of laid-back cool that cannot be mimicked. Balancing harmonica solos with some sweetly observed weeping guitars, the Special Sauce mix was a definite welcome to the otherwise mellow-laden evening. A thrilling cover of The Beatles’ Why Don’t We Do It In The Road stirred the biggest reaction out of the crowd since their recent trip to the Turkish food tent.

An indigenous dance performance preceded the main event to a respectful audience, before the man himself waltzed out to rapturous applause. He opened the set with a superbly relaxing song off his record Sleep Through The Static before easing into the familiar chords of The Horizon Has Been Defeated. From there he riffled through his back catalogue to a doting crowd, throwing in a fitting though oddly serene rendition of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love. He screwed up the lyrics to Sitting, Waiting, Wishing, but who gives a toss when you’re Jack Johnson? Indeed, the man is just so damn likeable that it’s near impossible to disprove the event’s saturation in beachy vibes. Another two new songs delivered polite applause, but at the opening chords of Taylor, the crowd nearly imploded with gleeful admiration.

Some beach ball antics between his band and the crowd measured their kicks in time to, ahem, Wasting Time and Bubble Toes, which drew a grand sing-a-long. An accordion accompanied Banana Pancakes, bringing an almost country vibe to the love song, before G. Love joined his friend for Rodeo Cowboys, complete with whistling melodies. There followed the ever-familiar Good People, while Brushfire Fairytales brought a touch of irony to the event when people began leaving as he sang, “slow down everyone, you’re moving too fast.” The requisite encore spanned five songs, with the gorgeous duet between G. Love and Jack Johnson on Rainbow nearly outshining the set closer, Better Together.

Jack Johnson proves once again that one should never underestimate his crowd-drawing capabilities. That six-hour aural massage had me more calm and relaxed than if I’d spent the day at a health spa. I truly wondered if I’d ever get angry again. Of course, if I really wanted to trigger an outburst, there was always the ridiculous amount of security and endless two-metre-high fence to navigate around on the way out.