Jimmy Buffett

Jimmy Buffett put his adopted hometown of Key West on the map with a deep catalogue of albums that found him adding a Caribbean lilt to his country- and folk-based songs. His subject matter -- neatly summed up in the definitive box set Boats, Beaches, Bars & Ballads -- illuminated a subtropical state of mind that found favor with fans of margaritas and sunsets. No matter that much of Buffett's audience works from nine to five in their daily lives; his songs offer companionable escapist fantasies, while his legendary live performances served as mobile Floridian beach parties. Buffett's fans -- the colorfully attired "Parrotheads" -- have become as much a part of the cultural landscape as the man himself.

Buffett got his start in Nashville, recording a pair of overlooked and now long out-of-print albums -- collected on the 1993 album Before the Beach-- before making a southerly change in latitude. A former journalist and history major, Buffett unassumingly puts his literate background to good use. His story-songs resonate with sharp observations; his travelogues include a strong sense of time and place; his shaggy-dog tales stay on the leash. And most important, he applies his wry sense of humor to his brand of counterculture hedonism, even as he celebrates it.

He found his voice as a transplanted Floridian in the early '70s with A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean and Living and Dying in 3/4 Time. The beautiful "Come Monday," from the latter album, established him on the pop charts, and that plainspoken ache and quiet melody still cut deep. Both albums mix chunky little bits of honky-tonk and Western swing into Buffett's defiantly left-of-center sensibility.

Then followed a string of albums on which Buffett created his very own beachgoing post-hippie subculture. If you closed your eyes, you could practically hear the palm trees swaying on A1A, his highwater mark as a recording artist. A1A (named after Florida's coastal highway) introduces the seafaring theme on cuts like "Trying to Reason With Hurricane Season," "A Pirate Looks at Forty" and "Nautical Wheelers." Buffett captures the lazy serenity of a steamy late summer day on "Life Is Just a Tire Swing."

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes made him a superstar, thanks largely to "Margaritaville" -- the first Top 10 hit of Buffett's career and something of a national anthem for the figurative Conch Republic (i.e., those who live in Key West or wish they did). The sound is breezy, Caribbean-scented soft rock, but the self-recriminating edge is pure country: "Some people say there's a woman to blame/but I know it's my own damn fault." After that flash of insight, Jimmy Buffett began retreating to his own personal "Margaritaville" -- lost in a pleasant, unchallenging haze where he began to sound a bit routine. His last essential albums were 1979's Volcano and 1981's Coconut Telegraph. With Somewhere Over China, Buffett sounded for the first time like he was treading water.

Much of the rest of Buffett's '80s output is music that only a Parrothead could love. There were a few high points, such as the fan favorite Floridays and Hot Water, on which he attempted to stretch himself as a songwriter. Along the way came a nice single-disc compilation, wryly titled Songs You Know by Heart: Jimmy Buffett's Greatest Hit(s) ; a near-definitive twofer, Meet Me in Margaritaville: The Ultimate Collection; and the smartly compiled box set Boats, Beaches, Bars & Ballads.

Of course, there also have been plenty of live albums: You Had to Be There (1978), Feeding Frenzy (1990), Buffett Live: Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays (1999). In 2003, on his own Mailboat label, he released four intact concerts, raw and uncut, for Parrothead degustation. But Jimmy Buffett is not the Grateful Dead. Even longtime fans questioned the sound quality and the point. Let's just say that you had to be there.

Buffett did great business on the road in the '90s and beyond, but as a songwriter he seemed to have lost a compelling voice. Fruitcakes, Barometer Soup, and Banana Wind are solid and craftsmanlike, but still a few mangos shy of a load. At least when he did get around to cutting the inevitable Christmas album Christmas Island, he managed to throw in some left-field twists, such as Chuck Berry's "Run Rudolph Run" and John Lennon's "Happy Xmas (War Is Over)." And his 1998 collaboration with Herman Wouk, which resulted in the musical Don't Stop the Music, showed an admirable sense of adventure. Coming from the man who put Key West on the map, Don't Stop the Carnival displays surprising candor in unveiling the conflicts and tensions that underlie the superficial enchantments of life on a tropical island.

By the time of 2002's Far Side of the World, he was back to preaching to the choir and largely making his mark as a staple of summer shed tours. And then Jimmy found his mojo again: In 2004 Buffet cut his first overtly country album and was rewarded with his first #1 album. Given that the contemporary C&W crowd freely embraced the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac, it's no surprise that a reflective singer/songwriter with a party-hearty streak like Buffett should find favor as an icon, too. License to Chill is a case of a mature artist getting his second wind. To his credit, Buffett 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 on or near the water comfortably bob alongside fiddle, steel guitar, and his duettists' twangy voices. 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 rootless party mavens "headin' down U.S. 1" to (where else?) Key West. (PARKE PUTERBAUGH/MARK COLEMAN)

From 2004's The New Rolling Stone Album Guide