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Wasting Away Yet Again in Margaritaville

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Jimmy Buffett and his Coral Reefer Band perform before a packed house of colorful if indiscriminate Parrot Heads. The crowd gets sloshed. Beach balls and inflatable sharks ricochet from one fan to the next. Buffett reigns as the supreme party commander in a predictable set dominated by breezy, all-too-familiar pop fare.

The above describes the scene Friday at Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre, the first of Buffett’s two-date engagement. But it could just as easily summarize the eternal pleasure-seeker’s last few stopovers here.

What’s particularly frustrating about Buffett is the utter lack of imagination from a man possessing considerable storytelling skills.

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Rather than extend his artistic reach, the easygoing entertainer seems content to paddle rather lazily in shallow waters. For years now, he’s been operating as little more than a gracious bartender, serving-up mind-numbing cocktails cleverly disguised as tropical-flavored pop songs.

Friday’s performance was a typically Buffett-esque ritual, a one-note affair where people-watching was more entertaining than the bland musical offerings.

The evening’s only memorable new ingredient was the guest appearance of Brian Wilson, who lent his vocals to renditions of “In My Room,” “Surfin’ U.S.A.” and “South American,” the latter co-written by Wilson and Buffett.

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