Jason Mraz is like the elite athlete who always makes the playoffs but never wins it all. In the Caucasian jambrosphere, he rates fourth behind Dave Mathews, John Mayer and the insurgent Zac Brown (Matthews’ country carbon). While he’s consistently reinvented himself aesthetically (let’s hope his current “Scruffy Christ” look gets the heave-ho soon), Mraz’s sound has remained largely the same—sometimes annoying, occasionally heartfelt, and always perfect fodder for the inevitable “look, they’re falling in love!” montage in a Drew Barrymore-Adam Sandler film. That Mraz is headlining the Gorge gives voice to the notion that if success is measured in terms of middlebrow saturation, he’s Andy Fucking Murray. With Christina Perri. MIKE SEELY

Sat., Sept. 22, 7:30 p.m., 2012