The world's randiest Buddhist is back, and, unsurprisingly, he's not pissed off. In fact, he's so relaxed that more than a few times on Dear Heather he takes a cue from the Ramones and reuses his first verse all through a song. On other occasions, he recites works by Lord Byron and Frank Scott, so there's a paucity of original lyrics. He, Sharon Robinson and Anjani Thomas collaborate on arrangements and vocals; the sound overall is consistent with his later career, meaning it leans toward adult contemporary. Lyrically, he discusses women, fidelity and loss, but most of these musings probe for a few lines and then end. Too bad there aren't more exceptions to that superficial rule, because when his songs tell an involved tale, their distinctive quality is unmatched by the finest perogy.