POP MUSIC REVIEWS : Jimmy Buffet’s Buffer Zone

Like the recently evacuated Biosphere, the Buffettsphere is a hermetically sealed environment whose inhabitants cut themselves off from the outside world.

It is a carefree zone where people tend to dress absurdly in Hawaiian shirts, grass skirts and headgear that Carmen Miranda wouldn’t touch, while going bananas for a singer-songwriter whose singing is featureless and whose songwriting is lightweight. If James Taylor’s voice is still the classic Cadillac among male soft-rockers from the early ‘70s, Jimmy Buffett is a Chevy with an engine rattle.

Buffett may be zero for his last 10 years when it comes to placing albums in the Top 40, but he continues to draw sell-out crowds to amphitheaters across the land, including the capacity house of 15,000 who came to see him Friday at Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre (he also plays the Greek Theatre on Tuesday).

The 46-year-old singer’s own laid-back insouciance set the tone. On stage, he was an amiable party host who joshed with and flattered his fans (who are known as Parrotheads) and didn’t seem to be merely going through the motions while fronting his bright, 14-piece band.

Buffett quipped frequently about playing in October with a nip in the air--not exactly the type of weather for a guy who tours in the summer, goes barefoot on stage, and celebrates the semitropical lassitude of his home digs in Key West. In terms of mood and music, however, Buffett kept his insular bubble carefully under climate control. Good weather for Parrotheads; not much of a habitat for birds not of the cultic flock.