Jimmy Buffett

Undeniably, this romantic individualist has staked out his surf; perhaps it is because his utopian sunland is Florida (rooted in the South) rather than California (headed toward the Orient) that his songs are so adult, skeptical, and closely observed. He doesn't sentimentalize in any obvious sense--the outsiders he sings about (including himself) are neither pitiable victims nor heirs of unacknowledged privilege. But when he essays some lyricism (about his grandfather, say, or the "so feminine" mandolin) he becomes totally mawkish, revealing a softheadedness that in the best Hemingway tradition he is careful to conceal most of the time. And upon close analysis this softheadedness extends even to his best lyrics--he is so intent on the day-to-day that he never cultivates an overview. Buffett is singing with new lustre, and I can't bring myself to put this down. But I don't expect to be putting it on much either. (Grade: B)