Fins down.
No surprises, here: everybody knows is a sell-out, but itap all a matter of how you much you care. (It should be noted that his show at the Tuesday has not, ahem, sold out. Yet.) Here’s what Buffett slaps his name on besides, ya know, music: restaurants, sandals, margarita machines (that cost hundreds of dollars), books (don’t get me started), chips, salsa, Land Shark lager, a hotel (!) and on and on.
Now, it would be easy to label this finger-pointing as a poor music writer who is just jealous of a good businessman. Or even: Why get into music if not to make money? Are the Beatles to be criticized for being successful, too?
First of all, I would argue that Mr. Buffett should spend less time choosing avocados for Margaritaville Zesty Island Garlic Guacamole and more time writing songs. Because, by and large, they are terrible songs. “Havana Daydreamin’” is all cued up on Spotify, here, and whatap this? There’s not even a solid hook. At least “Margaritaville” and “Cheeseburger in Paradise” — while obvious marketing campaigns for products that were, at the time they were written, just a sparkle in a young Buffettap eye — possess some semblance of catchiness to partially offset their vacuous lyrics. “Wasting away again,” indeed.
A second point: the Beatles (and thousands of other groups, for that matter) aren’t to be disparaged for making money they deserved; they almost never played it safe. Buffett is safety incarnate. He’s got his shtick and he’s sticking to it, from “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes” to his just-opened casino in Las Vegas. We get it, Jimmy, you like beach, boobs and beer. (For evidence that a theme — and a similarly-based one at that — can still elicit creative fire, see: the Beach Boys)
Certainly, this is all a bit of a buzzkill. Jimmy Buffett isn’t really supposed to be taken too seriously, right? Thatap his thing; he’s all about kicking up the heels and relaxing, like some sort of Corona ad reconstituted as music. Letap all, yes, get drunk and screw. Here, I offer an anecdote: At Bonnaroo in 2009, Jimmy Buffett made a surprise appearance. He flew into Tennessee for a set, an unlikely slot in the middle of the day — he’s not used to not headlining. Hungover as all get out, my pals (both Parrotheads) dragged me into the sun and to the stage. And, you know what? I had a good time. The people-watching was hilarious and his feel-good tunes were just what I needed to bail me out from the haze and get me tipping back a few cold ones again.
So, I would be remiss if I didn’t say that Jimmy Buffett has his moments. But does such a niche a rock legend make? I sure hope not. So, if you’re dreading the upcoming winter temperatures or maybe just got fired, go ahead: drop the $40 to $140 and venture forth to the “Can” on Tuesday. Otherwise, just drink a couple of margaritas and listen to something that you’ll actually be proud to remember when your pirate clock turns 40.
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Colin St. John is a Denver-based writer and merrymaker. Follow him on and check out his .
