by Stephen Thomas Erlewine 　　  　　After 30 albums, it would seem as if Jimmy Buffett has said everything he's needed to say, and in a way, that's true. Every once in a while, he'll depart from his sun-kissed, mellow country-rock, such as he did with his music for the audio reading of Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas or his musical adaptation of Herman Wouk's Don't Stop the Carnival, but for his regular albums, he hasn't varied his formula in two decades. That's the case with Beach House on the Moon, his 31st effort. Some may make a big deal about the presence of multimedia sections on the disc, but that's because it's the only thing that separates Beach House from Banana Wind, Buffett's last proper studio album. It's the same style of music, recorded in the same way as that 1996 effort, and to all but the dedicated fan, it could be the same record. There are slight difference, however, particularly in the quality of songs. Although some of Beach House seems a little too cutesy for comfort ("You Call It Joggin'," "I Will Play for Gumbo," etc.), it's by and large a stronger effort than Banana Wind, with more distinctive songs. It's still an album for Parrotheads, who will groove with the laid-back vibe and laugh at the silly jokes, and it's unlikely that it will convert any new fans. But it's a solid Buffett record, delivering everything a fan could want -- it may not offer anything new, but it doesn't disappoint.