He's more relaxed this time, because he's gotten to know his band or maybe just because he's got to less to prove, but except on the lovingly funky "We'll Be Together," no doubt a sop to the market, you're not going to catch him having fun. That would entail his getting out of himself, and from the jazzy insouciance of his Noah sendup to the aching compassion of his tribute to the mothers of the Chilean slain, the focus is always on the man singing. Pretentious, this is called, and no matter how humane your intentions it buries your subject matter in ego. B