Jimmy Buffett: License To Chill : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

A switch to country music often signals a last-ditch move for acts whose rock or pop careers have begun fizzling, but that's not the case with our country's chief beachgoer, Jimmy Buffett. For one thing, without making a big fuss about it, Buffett has had long-standing ties to Nashville. It's where he launched his career in 1970, and even after pointing his rudder to the tropical latitude of Key West, Florida, he continued to record in Music City and enjoy crossover success on the country charts. Given that the contemporary C&W crowd freely embraces the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac, it's no surprise that a reflective singer-songwriter with a party-hearty streak such as Buffett should find favor as an icon, too. Kenny Chesney and Alan Jackson have become superstars with songs about living simply and having fun, so why shouldn't the godfather of good times formally claim his due?

"It's Five O'Clock Somewhere," last year's chart-topping duet with Jackson, made Buffett's conquest official and set the stage for License to Chill, his first overtly country album. To his credit, Buffett has made the move on his own terms, adapting country music to his folky Floridian style rather than the other way around. Steel drums, slide guitar, marimba and endless references to the good life near the water comfortably bob alongside fiddle, steel guitar and the occasional duetting voices of durable talents such as Jackson, Chesney, Clint Black, George Strait and Nanci Griffith. The result is a union of sensibilities best described by the title of a Buffett original: "Conky Tonkin'," a droll slice of life about a pair of party mavens "headin' down U.S. 1" to (where else?) Key West.

Besides writing or co-writing five of the sixteen tracks, the bard of Margaritaville has selected tunes by smart, deserving writers such as Will Kimbrough, Guy Clark, John Hiatt, Al Anderson (formerly of NRBQ), Bill Withers and Bruce Cockburn. Buffett even tackles the Grateful Dead with a festive version of "Scarlet Begonias." He also hasn't jumped on board modern country's family-values bandwagon, cursing and admitting that he "smoked some pot" on "Coastal Confessions."

By opening with an unconventional, syncopated arrangement of Hank Williams' "Hey Good Lookin'," Buffett simultaneously announces his embrace of old-school country and his break with formula. He also merits points for showcasing a well-kept secret such as Kimbrough, whose witty, defiant "Piece of Work" gets a snappy, string-band arrangement. And on covers of two heartfelt ballads by Canadian folk-rocker Cockburn, Buffett hints that country could find fertile songwriting talent by pointing its compass in other directions. The title track is a standard party anthem, but it boasts a catchy chorus and some nifty alliteration: "Let the rat race run/Roll around in the sun/Until trouble turns funny/And songs get sung." Only "Simply Complicated," an annoying novelty, fails to connect.

Unlike much of his earlier work, License to Chill is aimed at seasoned party animals who can appreciate Buffett's wizened perspective on songs such as "Coast of Carolina," where he sings, "These days I get up about the time I used to go to bed/Livin' large was once the deal, now I watch the stars instead." License to Chill is really more about early autumn than it is about endless summer. The reassuring message is that getting older isn't all bad once you learn how to roll with the swell and, most important of all, chill out.