| December 2001 Guilty!
Well, it’s confession time here at Camp Crossett too. For me, guilt goes by the name of Jimmy Buffett. Yeah, I know, it’s kinda hard to believe, but it’s true. Buffett’s the quintessential non-audiophile listen, but I must admit I’ve been a Parrot Head for many years now. There’s something about Buffett’s music that stirs my frozen (I’m a New Englander) soul. Buffett sings of warm summer beaches ("and French wines and cheeses"), fun in the sun, running on island time and sailing south, all things foreign to a northern boy like me. And maybe this is the reason why I’m hooked. I’ve purchased almost everything Buffett’s recorded and listen consistently. (And on another subject, I’ve bought all his books too. Let me just say, the man can also write.) I have a thing for musical storytellers, and Buffett, like other favorites John Prine and Arlo Guthrie, is right up there at the head of the class. But -- and this is important -- I didn’t come to an appreciation of Buffet’s music via songs like "Livingston Saturday Night," "Margaritiaville," "Cheeseburger In Paradise" or "Pencil Thin Mustache." Instead, I got hooked on his earlier works. And therein lies the tale at the heart of this missive. Like most of you, I’m sure, my initial exposure to Jimmy Buffett’s songwriting was his hit songs played on the radio. Back then, I was too much the diehard '60s musical radical to want to listen to some "pop" singer’s sugar-coated attempts at music, played mostly on AM radio (oh, horror!). Buffett was for kids, not for a musical sophisticate such as myself. Then, one day I was at a party at a friend’s house. He was into themes for his annual bashes, and that year’s was no exception. The theme was "beach party" and, in keeping with his chosen topic, the music was consistently that of Buffett. As I was there to drink, not listen, I wasn’t paying close attention to what he was spinning. Oh, I’d hear the hits come and go and manage, without great difficulty I might add, to ignore them, but soon I found myself beginning to listen to some of the other Buffett songs being played. Hey, ya know, these tunes weren’t half bad. As a matter of fact, they were downright good. I liked them (hey Mikey?). Days later, after the effects of this once-a-year bacchanal had finally evaporated, I began to remember those tunes, and my desire to hear them in a non-alcoholic state was fired. The search was on. Invariably, being the cheapskate that I am, I tried to borrow as many albums as I could first, and when no one would loan me anything (this was in the LP days and people just didn’t loan out albums), I then went hunting for them in the used bins of local record stores. Finally, after many a fruitless search for used albums, I was reduced to (oh horrors!) buying new -- and then buying and buying and buying. The more I bought and listened, the more enjoyment I found myself getting from Jimmy and his Coral Reefer Band -- and the more I wanted to hear. What follows is a partial listing of personal favorites.
Shortly afterwards, Buffett went through a down period (relatively speaking), from the early to late '80s, recording albums like Coconut Telegraph, Volcano, Riddles In The Sand and a few others that were mostly unmemorable. All contained at least one or two tunes that would stick with you, making you feel your money wasn’t entirely wasted, but the consistency just wasn’t there. Normally, a Buffett album will have some great songs mixed with good ones, but these just had good songs mixed with, well, fair to poor ones. It’s my opinion that he was trying, with pressure put on by his record label, to come up with more hits, and failed. But that’s not why Buffett writes and records. He much prefers to write music that pleases him, and hopes we will all enjoy it too. So I’d make these your last purchases, as there are just too many other better choices to consider first.
But if you want to put this column to good use, and would like to purchase just one Buffett album to test the waters with, let me suggest Buffett Live, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. This live (surprise!) recording offers good sound, great music and a healthy dose of what a Jimmy Buffett concert is all about. It contains many of his favorite songs, both the popular ones as well as some of the more obscure. It’s both well recorded (Buffett has started his own label, the better to control quality) and a rockin’ good time. I haven’t named either all the albums or songs that have made Jimmy Buffett such a guilty pleasure for me over the years, as I haven’t the space to do such a list justice. Suffice it to say, I think you’ll get as much pleasure out of almost any part of Buffett’s musical catalog as have I. Give Jimmy Buffett’s music a try and maybe, just maybe, he’ll become a guilty pleasure for you too. I can’t think of a better one. ...John Crossett GO BACK TO: |
I’m going to
borrow a phrase from another audio writer for this installment of "Serendipity!"
and write about guilty pleasures. We all have them in all walks of life, but more so, it
seems, in our musical tastes. How many of you hard-bitten audiophiles out there don’t
find yourself singing (or humming or dancing or whatever it is you do) along with certain
pop ditties that slip onto the radio at times, and then find that tune sticking in your
head for the remainder of the day? Maybe you like to listen to that oldies station to
revisit the songs of your youth? Or how many of you have heard background music in a
commercial and then waded through your collections to pull out the album that the music
came from and give it a spin, your musical memory reawakened by the commercial? Come on --
'fess up! 
I’ll start off with one of my all-time favorite Buffett
records, A1A. This was the album that really got me hooked, with songs such as
"Stories We Could Tell," "Life is Just a Tire Swing," "Tin Cup
Chalice," "Trying to Reason With Hurricane Season" and "A Pirate Looks
at Forty" (now a very personal song) having become listening-time staples. I’m
also partial to A White Sport Coat And A Pink Crustacean, with two songs, "He
Went to Paris" and "Death of an Unpopular Poet," always compelling me to
listen to both sides of the album (all the other songs here are good too). You’ll
also enjoy, as do I, the album Havana Daydreamin’, with the songs such as the
party classic "My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink And I Don’t Love Jesus,"
"The Captain and the Kid," "There’s a Woman Going Crazy on Caroline
Street" and the title tune topping my list of faves. While none of these are
particularly well recorded, unfortunately, they’re not bad, just average, so the
sound won’t get in the way of your enjoyment. But not to worry -- it’s the music
that will draw you in. 
Even the "hit" albums, such as Son of
a Son of a Sailor (title tune, "Cheeseburger in Paradise" and
"Livingston Saturday Night") and Changes in Latitude, Changes in Attitude
("Margaritaville") contain songs that will steal your heart. For example, listen
to "Coast Of Marseilles," Cowboy in the Jungle" and "African
Friend" from Son of and "Wonder Why We Ever Go Home" and
"Banana Republic" from Changes. You’ll get somewhat better sound
here, making your listening time more fun.
Recently, though, Buffett has gotten his second
wind, so to speak, and has resumed recording strong, well-written albums like 1988’s
Hot Water, with the tunes "Bring Back The Magic," "Pre You" and
"L’Air De La Louisiane," or 1995’s Barometer Soup (another
personal fave) with the songs "Barefoot Children," the title track, "Jimmy
Dreams" and "Bank Of Bad Habits" being standouts. The next year saw Buffett
record what I now consider his strongest album in years, Banana Wind. From the
opening "Only Time Will Tell" to the closing "False Echos" (and be
sure not to hit the stop button too soon -- I won’t say why, but you’ll thank me
later), he’s done himself proud. Most of these from MCA (CDs only I’m afraid),
offer much improved sound, the better to enjoy the music with. And these albums are a
return to that top-to-bottom consistency I mentioned earlier, with strong tunes
throughout.