John Mayer's big-label debut was a multiplatinum breakthrough success whose sensual anthem "Your Body Is a Wonderland" scored him an unlikely Grammy for Best Pop Vocal. That out-of-the-box succes--and more than a few critics grousing that Mayer's muse was cloned from Dave Matthews--primed him for the typical sophomore slump. Instead, Mayer delivers an album whose tone and title suggests a gentle, tongue-in-cheek rebuke to his naysayers. Propelled by the subtle ambitions of an expanded pop-jazz framework (largely courtesy of Sheryl Crow/No Doubt/Jellyfish producer Jack Joseph Puig), Mayer's breathy vocal tack now suggests a detached, conflicted, and significantly less precious incarnation of Michael Franks. But, the way he weds fluid pop hooks to lyrical concerns whose self-obsessions are undercut by telling dollops of self-deprecation from the my-spirit's-too-big/smart-for-my-body laments of "Clarity," the upbeat single "Bigger Than My Body," and the bluesy plea "Come Back to Bed" to the cautionary, melodically-rich "Daughters" and even the antimaterialist agitprop of "Something's Missing should clearly draw in listeners."