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Somehow combining the blandness of John Mayer with all the subtle charm of a swift kick
to the groin, Jason Mraz is a distant cousin to the all-too-earnest crooner in Animal House: Listening to his sophomore effort,
the cleverly titled Mr. A-Z, you keep wishing Bluto would
show up, snatch the guitar out of his hands and smash it to pieces. But no, Mraz keeps going, extolling the dubious virtues
of his verbal acrobatics (“Wordplay,” in which he declares himself the “wizard of oohs”) and his prowess
in the sack (the cringe-inducing “O. Lover,” “Geek in the Pink”). It’s an embarrassing, self-addressed
love letter, directed to the one person who might take it seriously.
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