The Indubitable Magic of Margaritaville - The Life, Legacy, and Music of Jimmy Buffett
In terms of being an individual fan, I was a deadhead long before I had any affinity for the parrot heads, but oddly enough, it was the music of Jimmy Buffett that proceeded that of the dead in my own life.
When my younger sister with a summer birthday, had a pool party one early September in 2006, I was introduced to the magic of Jimmy Buffett. For my sister’s party, my dad built out an iTunes playlist (paying 99¢ per song at that time) for the five and six-year-olds at the party, but more so probably for their parents. He filled the playlist with Kokomo, The Piña Colada Song, Red Red Wine, and the like, but something about Cheeseburger in Paradise just stands right out to a child. I was absolutely intrigued.
I knew enough at 7 to know that this new playlist on our family iTunes and family computer would also be on my personal iPod. I spent a lot of time listening to the Songs You Know By Heart album on airplanes or car rides and at sleepaway camp , having no idea, beyond what a child might interpret, about the depth of Cheeseburger, Margaritaville, and Volcano.
That time spent being exposed to Buffett receded back somewhere deep in my mind and lived there untouched for the next 15 years. As I got older, technology changed. There was no more “family computer” or “family iTunes,” the iTunes Store faded into the background with the rise of streaming, and I had no use for my old iPod when I became an iPhone user. The music that lived in that old iPod, beautifully curated for me by my parents, my dad contributing his Springsteen, and my mom adding Morisette, disappeared along with the physical iPod, deep in the back of a drawer somewhere.
I became more interested in the music I discovered on my own, free from parental influence. I loved Arctic Monkeys, Mac Demarco, Lana Del Rey, Father John Misty, and Vampire Weekend. I fell deeply in love with the songwriters of my lifetime. I also grew into a deadhead and a fan of Fleetwood Mac, the Doors, Dylan, and Led Zeppelin. Clearly, it was rock music that moved me. The guitar, the drama, the ballad of the (mostly) American underbelly.
I’d always liked Dolly Parton, the Flying Burrito Brothers, New Riders of the Purple Sage, and Tammy Wynette, but I couldn’t place myself as a country fan until recently. Within the last five years, with the power vested in me by finally accepting the majesty of American country music, I jumped back into Buffett, and it was such a treat. Jimmy Buffett is more than a good-time guy; he’s a genius in lyricism, spirit, and heart.
When referencing the great American songbook or constructing a tapestry of American life through rock music, certain names always come up; Dylan, the Eagles, Jackson Browne, or Springsteen. Buffett ought to be right up there with them. Margaritaville’s lyrics hide the same darkness as Highway 61 Revisited, Hotel California, Lawyers in Love, and Born in the USA, but they do it differently. Everyone knows it’s a song about alcoholism and that the narrator in Margaritaville is not having a day in the park- how did this become the basis for a global chain of bars, restaurants, hotels, and even a retirement community? Because there is joy baked into the misery and hope weaved through the darkness, and that is the Buffett touch.
Prolific artists are like conduits of the great beyond. They seem to have unfettered access to the collective unconscious and return it to us, packaged and ready for the masses who cannot tap in on their own. Some prophets of this kind sway to this psychic weight, bringing back tales of the sadness and desperation of the human condition. How does Buffet go to that place and come back with hope? Perhaps it’s because he was a sailor; he knows the unpredictable nature of the ocean and nature’s indifference to the human condition (unsure whether to finish this sentence off with “and so we beat on” or “and so it goes,” pick your Fitzgerald or Vonnegut accordingly).
After spending time on the r/Jimmybuffett thread in the wake of his death- I was moved to tears by some of the stories of this man’s life and the way he touched his fans. People do not listen to songs about tropical paradises and drunken debauchery because they are small-minded and can’t comprehend the wizarding world of Zeppelin or the darkness of Lou Reed. They need this music because life already teaches enough hard lessons, and music can provide a sweet respite. Never confuse a genius who reveals his intelligence in his ability to create something simple and straightforward from a poser who needs to hide behind complex smoke and mirrors. Singing about the beach, daiquiris, and heartbreak does not make one limited but rather allows someone to tap into something deeply human and universal. We could all use a day at the beach. This was how Jimmy was, even in his own life.
Jimmy Buffett fought Merkel cell skin cancer for four years, but he never spoke publicly about his cancer diagnosis before his death. He gave the people what they wanted, getting on stage nearly right up until his death singing about getaways and umbrella drinks. After his death, those who were close to him made publicity statements recounting his larger-than-life spirit and love for adventure. We can only hope that in his next voyage, Buffett can traverse, new uncharted waters and perhaps know the way that he touched millions.
