Full confession: I am a “Parrothead”. I am one of the many devotees to the sound of Jimmy Buffett, who always seemed to go where it was warm, even if it was late fall, early spring or even in Paris. Buffett died on September 1st after battling a rare form skin cancer for the last four years “surrounded by his friends, family, music and his dogs.”
The world may have lost one of the best entertainers out there, and one of the singer-songwriters that carved his own niche when the Nashville business machine didn’t work for him. Initially moving from Nashville to Miami, he then went to Key West to busk before moving there in 1972. It was there that he was exposed to the island sounds and found a way to live his life like a song. The first album with the tropical vibe that he would become famous for was “A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean”, which featured the songs “Why don’t we get drunk” and “Grapefruit—Juicy Fruit”. Another album, “Living and Dying in ¾ Time” would feature one ballad that would become one of his signature songs: “Come Monday”, but on the third album “Changes In Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes”, not only would the title song cement his status as someone with a “gulf and western” sound, but it also provided the breakout song that became his trademark, “Margaritaville”.
With that song, Jimmy Buffett tapped into an eternal dream: an endless summer vacation at the beach. Whether it was a trip down to the Bahamas, a drive to a rental property in Myrtle Beach, or just a daydream of a beach that only existed in one’s mind, Jimmy triggered good vibes and positive energy. Like a good game master in a tabletop role-playing game, he created a world that everyone could access easily, and that everyone wanted to be a part of.
While he continued to cater to an ever-expanding crowd of fans whose tailgating rivals college and professional football games, the hits never came on the top charts, but it was keeping to that group that he created the world for that allowed him to navigate the music world as efficiently as the son of a son of a sailor. Songs like “Cheeseburger in Paradise”, “Volcano”, “Fins” and “A Pirate Looks at 40” continued to present the laid-back vibes, while presenting sometimes silly laments (fad diets and bad dates) to more serious musings (escape plans and aging).
Jimmy remained a bankable arena act for many years but became even more so when he was given mainstream country exposure thanks to Alan Jackson, who brought Jimmy on board for a song called “It’s 5:00 Somewhere”, a song that would become a mainstay on both performer’s tours and won the CMA Award for Vocal Event of the Year.
With Buffett going mainstream with his sound intact, he diversified the Margaritaville brand. Clothes, restaurants, casinos, hotels, resorts, food and drink, kitchen appliances, retirement communities, outdoor and tailgate sundries all carrying the Margaritaville Brand allowed him the freedom to continue to create. He often said that the first Margaritaville restaurant and bar in Key West was to give him a place to play in case his music career tanked. Those restaurants, along with Landshark Bar and Grill locations will continue to spread the fantasy vibes for his fans and for those who are curious.
Jimmy’s concerts were not epic presentations like Taylor Swift or Cole Swindell. It was him performing with his band, the Coral Reefers, sometimes with guests, with a video wall behind him. No fancy stages were needed. When the opening acts ended, and the pre-concert warmup song (Either “Hot Hot Hot” or a bluegrass version of “Margaritaville” on his last tour) hit, it was like the bottle of your carbonated beverage was being shaken. When he hit the first notes of a song, the bottle top popped off, and out with the screams of the fans went all the stress, all the worry of every single moment from the last concert to that moment.
Fans who could afford it would go weeks following him from town to town. Many others would go multiple years, and others would attend multiple years. Jimmy’s concert crew or other Parrotheads would put a temporary tattoo on their arm to show the number of concerts they attended.
I was lucky to have attended three of Jimmy’s shows. I got a number 3 last year at a concert from a fellow Parrothead who said that they were welcoming to new fans joining the flock. The fans looked after each other the same way that Jimmy looked after them. He provided the crowd with what they wanted, a small vacation through music and good vibes.
Jimmy created his “one particular harbor”. He lived life on his terms. He loved life in the slow lane, lived on the water and on the airwaves, and while cancer took him, he kept performing while he was being treated.
At the final concert at the Pavillion at Starlake, I went with a flock of Parrotheads. As we got back on the bus, one of those whose concert attendance was in triple digits said that they thought it may be the final time for Jimmy. I said to myself, “No. Jimmy’s immortal. He’ll be back next year, and we’ll have another party.”
Now the closest thing we may get to that is a tribute band, or maybe a reunion of the Coral Reefers with special guests, but it will never be the same.
The beach will never be the same.
Josh Widdowson is from Western Pennsylvania and is an occasional columnist and critic for The Inscriber. He loves music, his girlfriend, food, Pittsburgh Sports and the beach, but not necessarily in that order.