SOMEWHERE OVER THE GULF OF MEXICO — It’s been a week since singer-songwriter Jimmy Buffett passed away, and like many, I find myself trying to reconcile the loss.
Now, in my estimation, it’s borderline impossible to eulogize someone you never met and never even saw perform live. That’s reserved for people who knew the man personally and can speak to that far better than I can.
But what I can eulogize is the fact that a great American songbook will have no further additions.
I think the reason so many people, particularly in the South, were drawn to his discography was two-fold: one, he was one of us. Two, we knew the places he was singing about.
In the South, we take kindly to those who are from here and never really forget it. Born in Pascagoula, raised and from Mobile, attending Auburn and Southern Miss before telling Nashville to kiss off then finding himself in Key West, Buffett rambled across the South’s coast and his muse was the map dots along the Gulf of Mexico—places where most all of us down here have walked (or stumbled) and seen and felt. Being born on the coast and the grandson of a legitimate sailor only added to the authenticity of the music.
Be it rundown beach bars with good live music, cold drinks and neon lights fighting the moon for space on the waves rolling in, or the quiet sunset at the edge of the Gulf, these were places we have been and have lived. So many trips to the beach with family took place with his “Songs You Know By Heart” album serving as the soundtrack.
It always felt like he walked the line between the best-kept secret and your favorite local band who made it big. Sure, he had some hits on the charts, but radio never really seemed to know what to do with him. He wasn’t singing about California or East Coast beaches. No, this was all about the stretch down the emerald coast, from Dauphin Island to Key West. Yes, there were other tropics involved, but the backbone of it all was built on the Gulf.
And yes, a great deal of the Big 8 of his most well-known songs are fun romps, but peel back the layers a little bit, and what you’ll see is an incredible lyricist with a penchant for exploring things missed by the common eye. “Death of an Unpopular Poet” is among the best examples of this in the Buffett songbook; if you don’t know it, go listen now and come back.
Arguably, where Jimmy Buffett really shined is when his songs took on an introspective tone. “He Went to Paris,” “Son of a Son of a Sailor,” and “A Pirate Looks at 40,” are atmospheric, wistful, and contemplative. Sonically and lyrically, these songs exude the same vibe as standing at the shore and pondering life; realizing how small you are compared to the ocean, and wondering how you got here and where you’re going in the grand scheme of it all.
When I first got into songwriting as a teenager, I studied hard from the Buffett playbook. The tone of his lyrics matched the mood of his music. A lot like Jim Croce—the reason I got into music—Buffett’s music took me places that I knew I had seen and wanted to see again. And they were three dimensional, telling stories and painting pictures of a coastal life that I was familiar enough with to really appreciate. Returning to that songbook this week brought back good memories and reaffirmed what a masterclass in songwriting it was.
Whether you liked his music or didn’t, you had to admire the place he held within the landscape of American music. No one sounded like he did. No one mixed country, folk, rock, and island/beach/coastal sounds and themes like he did.
“Gulf and Western,” “Trop Rock,” “Shrimp Boat Rock,” whatever you wanted to call it, it was unique and it was his.
One of the greatest compliments you can give or receive as a Southerner is to call someone or be called a “storyteller.” And simply put, Jimmy Buffett’s body of work is one composed by a true storyteller in the greatest Southern sense.
I’m just so sorry to see it finished.
Sail on, good sir. We’ll keep the Fresnel lit.
The Kudzu is a weekly column covering all things Southern, especially truly great music.
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