An hour before the show, October 13, the line around the corner of 52nd Street wasn't anything to speak of. Neither were the scalpers, out in full force, from which one rock reviewer was forced to purchase his entrance. It was inside the venue that things began to take new shape. Lifebeat wasn't the lone non-for-profit that evening. In the ballroom's concession booth, the Surfrider Foundation, famous for cleaning up our oceans and beaches, had set up shop. Projections of palm trees, rolling waves and fireside silhouettes on a tarp above the stage laid further ground for a fish-out-of-water experience. It was Jack Johnson himself, stepping onto the stage to introduce his opening act, Alana Davis, who solidified something strange going on in Gotham.

Ms. Davis, known to some as Lady Six String and popularly recognized for her hit covers of Ani DiFranco's "32 Flavors" and Steve Winwood's "Can't Find My Way Home," played to a mostly indifferent audience. Her set was crowded with stories of failed love and one such song was even inelegantly introduced with the information that Jack Johnson's producer was married only a few hours previous in the ballroom. Beyond the pleasures of an acoustic guitar, she didn't offer much.

The same could not be said of Jack Johnson, who shares his name with both a legendary boxer and a Delta Blues guitarist. Johnson, as has often been noted, surfed professionally until a few years back when he began working on Thicker Than Water, one of his most respected films. Since, he has made other well-received surf documentaries, and also incidentally recorded Brushfire Fairytales, his premier album.

Fairytales, filled with bright, addictive sounds has been compared to the likes of the Dave Matthews Band. Truth is that his music has stronger ties to Hendrix rock riffs, roots reggae, and the surf songs of Dick Dale, Ben Harper and Jimmy Buffet. Modern coastal rock can plainly be heard in the intro to a song like "Losing Hope," which gives a nod to Earth anthem "Excuse Me Mr.," a Ben Harper hit (published on Music for Our Mothers Ocean II).

Johnson's message in general may be serious, but is decidedly less political than Harper's and often masked with a healthy dose of melodic contrast. The lightness in his first album and its cohesiveness are small but serious question marks: What is left for him to write and what should be made of what has been written? But hold up. This is an Eastern (Coast) response to music – asking questions instead of just enjoying the sound. What better place to work out these issues than a live show.

That Johnson has only been playing for a few years was no indication of what he could deliver; opening up with an unbeatable rendition of "It's All Understood," it turned out to be one of the evening's highlights. The band heavied up on the reggae strokes and gave the song a real trenchtown feel. Another reggae insert included a break out from "Bubble Toes," a crowd pleaser, into Marley's "Stir It Up" and "Trenchtown Rock." Over all, many of the most rocking sounds came from covers and unreleased songs, including "Stones in My Passway" (Robert Johnson), "Rocky Raccoon" (Beatles) and "Nightmares" (Jack Johnson).

All of the band's songs have been polished over the last three years, during recording sessions and on the road with acts like Harper, Toots and the Maytals, Ben Lee, Mason Gennings, and G Love and Special Sauce. Some credit the start of Jack Johnson's musical career to a run in with Garrett Dutton, G Love's vocalist. After a surf session, Dutton listened to Johnson play and got him some studio time. The single "Rodeo Clowns" by Johnson was included on G Love's Philedelphonic album and became one of its biggest hits. The record company took notice and Jack signed with Enjoy Records. With guidance from Ben Harper's producer, Johnson's album became a staple of West Coast get-togethers of a decided decibel range.

It was tough to tell how this was received by the audience, over all the talking. The crowd seemed a bit confused, standing in circles, gabbing, occasionally pointing a cell phone towards the stage (when will this end?), and of course bursting into momentary bar-styled accompaniment when the big hits were played. But were they to blame?

It was very much a DMB crowd, only less raptured with the performance than the scene, and rightly so. Jack Johnson does not put on a sound spectacular. Having probably developed many of his songs on his own or in small circles with a guitar, a cozier Irving Plaza may have been better suited. Not to say that Johnson couldn't handle Roseland's size, but this crowd was not to be placated with straightforward rock acoustics all night.

"Posters" and "Fortunate Fool" grabbed attention momentarily though, and certainly "Bubble Toes" was the big favorite. The song's "bit the dog, that ate the cat, that chomped the bird" lyrics demanded a campfire sing-along and the talkative crowd did oblige.

Maybe Johnson's reception here depended on your tolerance for Jimmy Buffet – whether he makes you feel like you're in paradise or just a cheeseburger. But if Johnson is analogous to Buffet, it is only at Johnson's best. And there was proof positive when fans elected for a cover of "Pirate Looks Forty" (possibly one of Buffet's best) over a White Stripes tune. Who would have guessed?

But, for those who really understand New York, they'll recognize that some of the best surf in the country comes out of Long Island, that the folk scene in New York is a make-or-break location for many guitar-wielding samurais, and that, to put it bluntly, the differences between East and West are largely based in perception, not fact.