Jimmy Buffett at Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion, 05/29/2014
And they seem to return that enjoyment in response to Buffett's music. As a musician, Buffett has basically created a genre -- an amalgam of Cajun/country/singer-songwriter/coastal styles -- that is completely unique to him. Many artists have followed suit in the years after him, but none have done it quite as well.
That being said, it's surprising that Buffett has done so much with only a handful of mainstream hits. His only number one hits: "It's 5 o'clock Somewhere," with Alan Jackson and "Knee Deep," with Zac Brown Band, have been duets with big country artists, and he makes sure to do them live. His best-known hit to date, "Margaritaville," is easily his worst song, despite its popularity.
It's unfortunate that those songs are what Buffett will be forever known for among folks outside that Parrothead circle because songs like "Come Monday" are not only better, they're simply great songs, tempering that coastal-themed chaos in a way that only good songs can do. I wish he'd managed to make more of a mainstream dent with them.
Not that it matters, mind you. Buffett has done just fine with his "Margaritaville" accolades, and if people outside of the inner circle realized just how damn good of an artist he really is, there would be no chance for anyone to land a ticket to his shows. It's hard enough as it is.
If Thursday night is any indicator, there's no doubt in my mind that this Buffett/Coral Reefers madness is going to slow down anytime soon. They're all aging, yes -- Buffett included, but those hardcore Parrothead fools will be out there tailgating in their walkers in a couple of decades, reminiscing over their cheeseburgers and daiquiris in paradise, and Buffett will be around to lead the way. It seems salty air, and salty songs, will do wonders for the soul.
The Crowd: Silver-haired, inebriated and sporting expensive Hawaiian shirts, if there is such a thing.
Overheard In the Crowd: "Fins to the left, fins to the right..." and they all went the wrong direction, of course. Surely no one was sober enough to care.
Random Notebook Dump: A couple of things. These are important, y'all:
- To whomever had a few too many of those frozen concoctions in the first stall of the women's bathroom: while I appreciate you aiming for the potty, your frozen concoction goggles failed you in your bid to aim, my friend. My dress did not appreciate your rainbow-colored parting gift of whatever you drank. I spent the latter half of my night with a wet dress from rinsing out your upchuck, while trying not to get too close to anyone, since the faint smell of bile was not pleasant, nor was I terribly interested in explaining that I sat in puke.
- You Parrotheads can motherfuckin' party.
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