{"id":35953,"date":"1998-07-04T00:00:00","date_gmt":"1998-07-04T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/reviews\/boats-beaches-bars-ballads\/"},"modified":"1998-07-04T00:00:00","modified_gmt":"1998-07-04T00:00:00","slug":"boats-beaches-bars-ballads","status":"publish","type":"review","link":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/reviews\/boats-beaches-bars-ballads\/","title":{"rendered":"Boats, Beaches, Bars &#038; Ballads"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Everybody in the world, I think, either has or secretly wishes they had a crazy uncle. You know, the kind of guy who would show up out of the blue, and, over a few stiff scotches, tell tall tales of his exploits in faraway places with strange-sounding names until the wee hours of the morning. And in the morning you&#8217;d wake up and he&#8217;d be gone, tails of his Hawaiian shirt flapping in the breeze somewhere down the highway as he careened along with the top down and the radio blaring.<\/p>\n<p>I never had a crazy uncle. Luckily for people like me, though, we always have Jimmy Buffett to fall back on.<\/p>\n<p>Buffett is what they used to call an entertainer. Not the best voice in the world, though certainly gifted with enough to carry a tune. Not the most skilled player in the world, though his music has usually been assembled with care and heart. But always, always what Buffett has brought to the table is a unique and thoroughly realized perspective &#8212; a witty, rowdy, sentimental, occasionally philosophical and invariably sun-drenched view of a world that, in Buffett&#8217;s ever-playful eyes, has its priorities all screwed up.<\/p>\n<p>Buffet has issued so many albums over the years (27 or so as I&#8217;m writing this review) that it&#8217;s hard to know where to start. Like most of the rest of the world, I&#8217;d heard &#8220;Margaritaville&#8221; a zillion times in the late 70s, but I didn&#8217;t come around until a friend got me the junior version of this album, 1985&#8217;s  <i>Songs You Know By Heart<\/i> (a measly 12 songs). Once a little of Jimmy&#8217;s tropical rhythms and devil-may-care attitude had seeped in, the choice was easy &#8212; I jumped in with both feet and picked up the four-CD, 72-track box set  <i>Boats, Beaches, Bars &#038; Ballads<\/i>.<\/p>\n<p>As the title suggests, the discs are divided up somewhat thematically. Thus you find the wonderful ode to Buffett&#8217;s own sea-faring heritage &#8220;Son Of A Son Of A Sailor&#8221; and the classic aging wanderer&#8217;s lament &#8220;A Pirate Looks At Forty&#8221; on &#8220;Boats.&#8221; Buffett&#8217;s powers of rhyme here are at his best &#8212; a fact he revels in in the liner notes. Self-indulgent, yes, but hey, he IS pretty good at it, and many of his sea-faring songs are memorable both for their swagger and for their deeply affectionate take on life afloat.<\/p>\n<p>Serious Buffett never gets wet-eyed for too long before the guy with the loud shirt and gut-busting smile saunters along, though, offering margaritas aplenty, a &#8220;Volcano&#8221;-sized reggae shuffle, or a bouncy sing-along &#8220;Cheeseburger In Paradise&#8221; (&#8220;I like mine with lettuce and tomatoes, etc.&#8221; &#8212; sing it loud, now, don&#8217;t hold back).<\/p>\n<p>One of the reasons this set is a good buy for either the beginning Parrothead or the 20-year vet, though, is that Buffett&#8217;s hand-picked 72-song set list includes all the obligatory hits plus numerous great but semi-unknown album cuts and several unreleased tunes. Among my personal favorites: the raucous &#8220;The Weather Is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful,&#8221; a not-just-hilarious but somewhat inspirational tale of a stressed-out city guy who hops a plane to the islands and starts a new life among the palm trees; the sparkling &#8220;When The Coast Is Clear,&#8221; an evocative ballad conveying the peace that descends over Buffett&#8217;s home Gulf Coast region after the tourists head north; and Buffett&#8217;s remarkable cover of Van Morrison&#8217;s classic &#8220;Brown-Eyed Girl,&#8221; whose Caribbean steel-drum arrangement is so infectiously melodic that &#8211; dare I say it? &#8211; it may top the original.<\/p>\n<p>Best of all, there&#8217;s precious little evidence on this collection of the self-satisfied\/self-pitying rich man that Buffett has largely become in the latter, mogul-like stages of his multi-tracked career (musician, restauranteur, author, merchandiser). Instead, you get the sweeping but often touching romanticism of early Buffett ballads like &#8220;Come Monday&#8221; and &#8220;He Went To Paris,&#8221; and the naughty court jester-ism of &#8220;Why Don&#8217;t We Get Drunk&#8221; and the lost track &#8220;Elvis Imitators&#8221; (and damn if he doesn&#8217;t do a good one&#8230;). The only real knock on it is that like its author,  <i>Boats, Beaches, Bars &#038; Ballads<\/i> is prone to excess, and therefore may be a little thick for the uninitiated (19 ballads on one disc?).<\/p>\n<p>Finally, there&#8217;s the 64-page Parrothead handbook, a compendium of everything Buffett &#8211; articles, interviews, a margarita recipe, a crossword puzzle (!) and Buffett&#8217;s extensive, enlightening liner notes. There&#8217;s a great story there about the last time Buffett ever pitched a song to a producer. After Buffett had finished playing &#8220;The Captain And The Kid,&#8221; a moving, deeply personal portrait of his beloved grandfather, a producer said to the young songwriter, &#8220;This is a great song, but you have to change the ending. It&#8217;s too sad for the old man to die.&#8221; &#8220;I can&#8217;t do that,&#8221; responded Buffett, shocked. &#8220;Why?&#8221; asked the producer, equally taken aback. &#8220;Because he  <i>did<\/i>,&#8221; answered Buffett, and left.<\/p>\n<p>Finally, there&#8217;s &#8220;The Pascagoula Run,&#8221; a track chronicling Buffett&#8217;s teenaged adventures one wild weekend with his crazy Uncle Billy. Ever since then he&#8217;s been doing everything he could to pass on what he learned. There are worse ways to earn a living.<\/p>\n<p>Now pour yourself something cold and raise your glass to Uncle Jimmy &#8212; daylight&#8217;s wasting.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":24749,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"tags":[],"artist":[5930],"rating":[5617],"class_list":["post-35953","review","type-review","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","artist-jimmy-buffett","rating-rating-b-plus"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review\/35953","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/review"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/12"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=35953"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/review\/35953\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24749"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=35953"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=35953"},{"taxonomy":"artist","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/artist?post=35953"},{"taxonomy":"rating","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dailyvault.adishjain.in\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rating?post=35953"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}