Jimmy Buffet - Coconut Telegraph
#59
By Paul Zickler
February 1981
Jimmy Buffett
Coconut Telegraph
Allen’s Rating: 2 out of 5
Paul’s Rating: 2.5
Highlights:
The Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful
Little Miss Magic
Genre: Yacht Pop
Review:
Look at the album cover, and this review pretty much writes itself. Jimmy Buffett is phoning it in. On this, his 10th studio album, the Key West troubadour, King of the beach bums, Lord of the parrot heads, was apparently not in the mood to put forth much effort. Nine songs, 33 minutes, two covers (including the single, “It’s My Job,” which peaked at #54, Jimmy’s last chart appearance for more than 20 years).
The playing and singing are adequate, with some nice little harmonica solos and the requisite bongos/congas/beach percussion. Buffett was 35 years old, so of course there’s “I’m Growing Older But Not Up,” which really does nothing musically to back up the second half of its title, since it sounds quite grown up, buttoned up even. The whole album has a dull sheen over it, which could be blamed on that dreaded ‘80’s production style, but really has more to do with the songs just not being very interesting.
“The Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful,” actually has some potential as a song. The tightly written chorus reaches for that signature Buffett style, there are some party-ish background voices, and the lyrics navigate a mildly entertaining story about some guy doing something vaguely rebellious and fun loving. It’s worth adding to the playlist for 1981, but that’s about it.
The attempt at covering the American Songbook tune “Stars Fell On Alabama” is ill advised. Buffett’s band swings politely, his voice is pleasant enough, and he stays in tune, but there’s no point in taking on a standard unless you’re going to bring something interesting to the table. Buffett’s got a fruity drink and a burger, which aren’t really gonna cut it.
The album’s closer, “Little Miss Magic,” is a gentle love song to his young daughter, delivered over simple acoustic picking and plaintive harmonica fills. It’s not a hit, but it’s such a sweet departure from the rest of the album’s mediocrity, I found myself wondering what it might have sounded like for Jimmy to put off releasing this record until he’d written a few more like this. Tell the rest of the band to go home, strum the guitar, sing a few songs for your wife and kid. I’m sure the label would never have gone for it. Pity. It’s clearly the highlight.
I’m certainly not a “fan” of Jimmy Buffett per se, but I do enjoy the singles from his glory days, which seem to have ended just before this album. Its predecessor contained the really fun “Volcano,” seemingly the last time Jimmy could be bothered to exert himself in the studio. Maybe he realized he didn’t need to do it that way anymore. He saw the decades of Margaritaville franchises and oldies tours ahead of him, spotted the phone booth near the beach and thought, why not? Phone it in, Jimmy.
https://open.spotify.com/album/51ZdNrSYZ86LF7NH9y5k9x?si=oOB00qntSySbm05t28heTA
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