Frampton@50: In the Studio 1972-1975 Limited Edition Vinyl Box Set: https://shorturl.at/wzJSZ

1

I bought my records on Friday.

Friday is a school holiday, after classes end. Sunday is a work day, studying, at least when I was in college and law school. But by Friday at noon I was free. Free to do what I really wanted to do, to follow my interests, which was not the paradigm when I was growing up. There were not courses in popular culture, you studied the classics, or classically, and delayed fulfillment to time in some distant future, certainly after college. We were working in a coal mine and we didn’t think we had an option.

But we had interests we squeezed in.

Now the sixties were all about Beatlemania and the following British invasion and then the San Francisco scene and then Hendrix and Cream and the heyday of album rock. By the seventies the business was mature and respected. Newspapers reviewed and respected rock music. The financial world recognized the record world, because of the immense profits being thrown off, in excess of those of the movie studios, and in the parlance of the techies, music scaled. The cost to produce the millionth album was de minimis compared to the first. In other words, once recording costs were recouped nearly every dollar was profit.

Now of course, the heyday was the eighties, when not only did MTV blast acts to the moon, but CDs were sold at double the price at the old vinyl/tape royalty rate to the musicians. Those at the labels thought it would go on forever, they didn’t foresee the internet coming along and blowing their model to hell.

Now people still buy vinyl records today, you can’t help but reading about the resurgence. However, in truth it’s a tiny sliver of overall consumption. And most people don’t have the equipment to truly extract the sound from these discs, assuming they play them at all. Oftentimes vinyl is seen as a souvenir, a collectible, but back in the day it was all about what was in the grooves. After all, one of the most famous Beatle albums had nothing on the cover at all.

Now there were records I had to buy, always albums, I gave up singles back in the mid-sixties, all serious collectors, all serious devotees did. Albums were the essence, statements, platters from gods, and we devoured them.

After we paid for them.

So the new superstar release, you purchased. But more interesting were the records you’d heard about but had never heard. That was part of the process, taking a risk.

And one album was not enough. You’d walk through the store with a pile under your arm. And you’d extract and replace and ultimately bring the final count to the cash register.

And then you’d go home and break the shrink-wrap, which was an indelible part of the process. From the store to you. After you’d slice the shrink-wrap you owned the LP, you were involved.

And then you put it on the turntable and dropped the needle.

Which you had purchased from the standalone stereo shop with all your money.

Hard to believe stereo shops were plentiful. They were meccas. You’d walk the aisles and contemplate what you wanted and what you could afford. And some purchased their system all at once. Others built their system component by component, after reading “Stereo Review,” “High Fidelity” and even “Audio.” This was when information was scarce and we wanted all we could get.

And the goal was to get as close to the sound as possible. To eliminate all the static, all the possible distortion between the act and you. One of the relevant statistics was Total Harmonic Distortion. The key was a clean, rich sound. That you could play at top volume without distortion.

And on Friday afternoons, after breaking the shrink-wrap, deciding what album to play first, I’d drop the needle, turn up the volume so it filled the entire room and stood back and listened. There was no multitasking, not at first. This was a message from God, this was a religion, listening to these albums was the most important part of your life, at least mine. You were waiting for the surprise, ready to go on the adventure, because usually most of what you heard you’d never heard before. I can still remember hearing “Gimmie Shelter” for the first time. And “Hotel California.” Totally cold. No context. It was personal, and astounding. 

2

Now I don’t understand vinyl versions of digital recordings. Technically that makes no sense. What you end up with is a distorted version of the original, it’s a fetish, because vinyl is inherently compromised. It does have a warm sound, but if you want to hear the record exactly the way the act recorded it…

And digital recording can be very cheap.

But not analog. Most acts never made it to the recording studio. What you needed was a deep pocket to fund recording. Which is what the label provided. And at first you got a limited budget and a limited amount of time. But if you proved your mettle, which meant selling a lot of records, you got more money, which yielded more time. And more experimentation. More risk. A greater desire to capture lightning in a bottle. As years went by and time went on you could punch in and fix mistakes, which many saw as the beginning of the end, eliminating humanity from the discs, but that was late in the game. Going to the studio was like going to the lab. The engineer was a mad scientist, the producer akin to an orchestra conductor, about creativity and feel more than tech, and the goal was to lay down something that had an indescribable element that would make people want to buy and listen.

And most times the creators failed. Most records did not succeed. But some did. Some were instant hits and were instantly forgotten, seen as disposable. And then there were those that had a limited audience, which grew. The act toured after every LP, and if you wanted to hear the songs from the latest album, you had to go, because some of them might never be played again. And you didn’t connect with your compatriots on social media, you just sat in the hall knowing you were on the same page, and that was enough. And concerts were not casual, and not parties. The venues had seats and when done right you had a direct connection to the performer, and it was just about the two of you, no one else mattered, the music set your mind free.

3

Most people sold their vinyl not long after the CD was introduced. Back when CDs sounded poor. A ton of improvement was done over the years, ergo the remastering, before it became a gimmick, a dash for cash.

And, in truth, vinyl is a pain in the ass. We know all the album tracks because we didn’t want to get up off the couch to return the needle to the hit, we let the side play out. And back then the arm returned all by itself, you didn’t have to worry about that endless click of the needle in the runout groove. And if you had a Technics direct drive turntable you could dial up the number of times you wanted to hear the album repeated. But we never stacked our records, we respected our records, they were our most important possession. We might not even have a car. And an auto was mute in a way records were not, we loved our records.

But I’ve still got all my vinyl, I’ve still got my big stereo, and I enjoy cranking it up, but honestly I rarely do, because it’s too much of a pain, hi-res digital through the Genelecs is not only convenient, it sounds incredible.

But those early Frampton records were cut analog. One can argue quite strongly that the proper way to listen to them is on vinyl, and that’s what I’m doing right now with Intervention Records’ remasters.

4

Now the first time I listened to “Wind of Change,” I’d never heard it before. No one else I knew owned it, I don’t think anybody else in the dorm knew who Frampton was. He was part of Humble Pie who were suddenly successful with a hard-rocking, party-oriented double live album. But Peter was gone by then. And “Wind of Change” wasn’t a completely different direction, “Shine On” was a harbinger of what was to come, but when I dropped the needle on “Fig Tree Bay”… I realized I was on an adventure, a journey to somewhere I’d never been before. That’s what a great album provided. And, once again, it was completely personal. Unless you were right there in the room with me, there was no communication other than with the performer, and that was enough.

So I broke the shrink-wrap on this triple album vinyl set, and of course the first cut I wanted to hear was “Fig Tree Bay.”

But my fully manual turntable was set to 45 RPM, and unlike in the old days I just couldn’t flip a switch, I had to turn off the motor, lift off the entire platter, move the belt to a different part of the flywheel and then Peter sounded like who he was, and not a chipmunk.

Now after listening to these vinyl records you get used to the sound, but at first it’s a shock, because the records don’t resemble today’s digital productions. They breathe, they were cut before the loudness wars and they sound exactly like what they are…recordings of people playing in a recording studio, a room. The guitar is full-bodied. It’s not straight from the axe to your ear, rather the sound is captured in a space that makes the end result three-dimensional, once again it’s hard to describe, but you know it when you hear it. Let me analogize… You can look at people in photos all day long, but when they’re right in front of you, it’s completely different. They exist in space, they have shape, they evidence personality, you’re suddenly involved instead of removed. That’s what it was like listening to “Fig Tree Bay.”

I flipped the vinyl over to my favorite Frampton cut, “All I Want to Be (is by your side),” and it was the same effect, the same feeling. There was a human being inside the system, coming out of the speakers, it was not 2-D, and the sound was human in a way that digital can never be. Sure, it’s a sound, but even more it’s a feeling, on this early Friday evening in April. My work is done. Now my time is mine. And suddenly I’m in the space I’ve been in so many times before in my life, but a long time ago. I don’t need to tell you how great the record is, I don’t really have to tell you anything other than the feeling I’m having. One of completeness, of the music being enough, not feeling bored, but my mind floating in and over the music on a trip no other medium can take me, that has me relaxing and cogitating at the same time.

“Can’t you see what it’s doing to me”

Maybe you can’t. But it doesn’t matter.

Because Frampton just came alive, as a matter of fact he’s always alive, whenever I want to drop the needle on this vinyl. And he’s only alive in my house, on my stereo. Vinyl is not a portable medium, nor the stereos of yore, upon which I’m listening. I’m parked, having an experience, maybe you understand what I’m talking about.

She’s not going to sacrifice her new album, she’s not going to shoot herself in the foot, in a world where it’s nearly impossible to reach everybody you don’t want restrictions, you want the advantage of every outlet of distribution and promotion possible.

But Taylor Swift, as a result of her success, has a unique deal. The rest of the Universal artists? They’re working on Maggie’s Farm, and most won’t say anything for fear the company will stop promoting them.

Now Swift stood up for artists against streaming services. But those are distributors, not the label itself. She ain’t gonna piss on Universal. Sure, she pissed on Big Machine, but that was after the fact.

So, Swift has earned her freedom, all the rest of the Universal acts are indentured slaves.

As for statistics saying that Universal has not been hurt by the company’s TikTok ban… Just proof that statistics can exist in a vacuum. How do you measure possibilities? Never mind, individual possibilities? Lucian Grainge is fighting for Universal, he’s not fighting for any specific act. And if you’re a developing act with new music, or even an established act… Well, imagine it being 1985 and your label telling you you can’t make a video.

And then there’s the scenario detailed in “Hit Men.” CBS may choose not to pay independent radio promoters, but that just creates a vacuum that other players will fill. Other labels got the radio slots and eventually CBS caved. In other words, an individual boycott is not enough. Just like Spotify didn’t want to launch in the U.S. without all major label groups on board.

But it’s even worse. The major labels used to have a monopoly on the music world, but no longer. So, even if the three major label groups all pulled their wares from TikTok… There would still be plenty of independent music to fill the hole. And sure, a lot of it is dreck, but not all of it. And isn’t TikTok where the majors go to find all their new talent?

Universal just doesn’t have enough power to achieve its goal. Turns out TikTok can live without Universal’s music. Furthermore, just like in the era of YouTube infringement, many Universal songs are still up on TikTok. It’s not an easy switch to throw, then again, TikTok could be making a better effort. Then again, TikTok knows it’s all about a negotiation, so it is dragging its feet.

But Universal didn’t see TikTok coming. It thought it had all the control, but just like with the aforementioned MTV, the labels lost power when an unforeseen platform became dominant.

Now in tech, miss an opportunity and you might be history. The truth is the three major labels control almost the entire history of recorded music with their catalogs, a power that won’t wane for eons, if ever.

But, once again, distribution is king. If Taylor Swift’s new album is not on TikTok, fans won’t serendipitously create videos employing its songs, TikTok users won’t stumble upon videos containing Taylor’s new music. Which means Taylor would be dependent on the public pulling her new tunes, on Spotify, et al, or YouTube, and hard core fans would do this, but casual fans? Taylor Swift’s new album might be low on their priority list.

Hell, the reason most people even know Taylor Swift has a new album is because she hijacked the Grammy telecast to announce it, and even if you didn’t watch the show the news filtered out to seemingly endless outlets.

You’re not going to hold back Taylor Swift. Who has earned her emancipation from the whims of Universal. Taylor Swift is virtually independent. She just uses the services of Universal, otherwise she’s on her own. This is the model all artists want, but if you sell your soul to the company man…

If you do not live in a controlled universe, do not try to control it. You’ve got to pick your battles. Judge your leverage. It’s just like a union going on strike… What can you ask for, can you really win?

And Taylor Swift is not a scab, it’s just that she does not have to operate under a preexisting agreement. But her brethren signed to Universal… TOUGH NOOGIES!

This is not a Coachella issue, this is a music issue.

Yes, today marks the beginning of the festival season, with the first day of Coachella. Which means the news media is full of stories on the state of the festival business, in light of Coachella tickets selling slower than previously, in light of the Australian festival cancellations (no, the mainstream media didn’t mention these, but those in the business know about them).

It’s very clear. We don’t have a festival issue, we have a MUSIC issue!

In other words, we’re just not minting worldwide stars that appeal to everybody. And odds are it’s going to get worse. Then what?

Well, is Coachella Glastonbury?

Glastonbury emerged in the wake of Woodstock and has flourished ever since. But you can get to Glastonbury by train, and it’s not a long ride from the metropolis. And Glastonbury has become a national institution, embraced by both the public and the media. Furthermore, you can watch it on TV. Yes, they want to get the latest and greatest to appear, but they also want legacy acts, and acts that have been out of the spotlight for a while… In other words, Glastonbury is unique. And the question once again is, is Coachella Glastonbury?

That’s what we really want to know. Is Coachella’s name, history and the experience of attending so impressive, so dramatic, that it can survive irrelevant of the talent booked to appear.

For a while it looked that way. With tickets selling out before a lineup was announced. But there’s been an evolution in the music itself.

Boomers don’t want to go hang with the multitudes in the desert anymore, they’re all about creature comforts, they’re past their festival years. Ditto most Gen-X’ers. So you’re left with diehard music fans and the younger generation, which is notoriously fickle. Is Coachella an institution or a long-running fad that is on its way to extinction?

Credit Paul Tollett for trying to go along with the times, booking more modern acts as opposed to the ancient ones most festivals depend upon to draw people in. But do you really want to go to the desert to see Doja Cat? Even Lana Del Rey? My point being these acts are very successful, but don’t appeal to everyone. They’re not cult acts, they just don’t go broad beyond their verticals, and almost none of the new acts do. And, as has been noted seemingly everywhere, if you’re a true fan of these acts do you want to go to a festival to see them, to pay a lot for many other acts you do not want to see, to hang with the great unwashed, is this the experience you’re looking for?

Which brings us back to ticket prices. Despite the complaints, mostly from a small minority, there seems to be no amount too high for people to pay to see their favorite acts live. Sure, some may say their limit is a hundred bucks and sit at home. But most just pay the going rate, even paying more on the secondary market. That’s how hot music is, a unique experience. But how many want a specific unique experience? Don’t be overwhelmed by sold out arena dates, even stadium dates, when you add attendance up it’s still not that many people. You’ve got those who need to be there, who will do anything to get a ticket, a few who get squeezed out and the rest shrug their shoulders, they might not even go if the ticket is free.

Don’t compare this with yesteryear, when Bruce Springsteen was all over MTV and everybody knew not only him, but “Born in the U.S.A.,” and “Glory Days” and “Dancing in the Dark.” No songs have this reach today, NONE! Not that the industry or the media want to admit it. So the potential audience for a specific concert used to be much greater. But today? You can add up all the acts at the festival and still be unimpressed, there might not be ANYBODY you need to see. Furthermore, the undercard changes every year and virtually none of these acts grows into stardom. It used to be a badge of honor to say you saw the act first, when they were developing. The Police at the Whisky. Now these acts play festivals and…almost none graduate to theatres. You’ve got no bragging rights, because the act never becomes ubiquitous, most people are unaware of the act and don’t care.

Now in a world where there were only a couple of festivals, each one had the imprimatur of exclusivity and greatness. Now there’s a multi-act festival within driving distance of everybody, so why make an expensive journey to the desert, to ANYWHERE?

And, once again, is the multi-act bill passé?

Don’t forget that the Fillmore East used to have three act bills. When was the last time you saw that? It was a bond between the audience and Bill Graham, that he’d turn you on to great new music you might not be aware of. Now, many people don’t even show up for the opening act, and there’s only one, and the goal of the headliner is to do “An Evening With,” a multi-hour show that appeals to hard core fans with no opener at all!

We’re going narrower and deeper. And that which is broad…

Is failing everywhere.

It’s not only music, it’s in every vertical. People want specialization, not generalization. People have very defined interests, and if you’re trying to appeal to all, you’re heading for death.

So, do festivals go extinct?

Definitely not. Especially city-based festivals, like Lollapalooza, Austin City Limits and Outside Lands. The lift is much lighter. You can commute there from home, you don’t have to drive a long distance or fly and get a hotel room… What the acts are and what you can charge? Those are interesting questions, along with who the attendees are.

Despite the international hoopla, Coachella is mostly a rite of passage for young Angelenos. The desert is part of their mind-set and they’re young enough to endure the elements and the hoi polloi. But if you’ve lived in Los Angeles long enough, you know that Westwood used to be the hip epicenter, then the Third Street Promenade, then CityWalk and now…I’m not sure there even is one.

But once again, this has got less to do with the audience and the festival than the music itself. If you’re expecting broad new superstars, you’re out of touch. Look at consumption, Spotify keeps telling us the share of the superstars keeps declining. Everything is becoming narrower, specialized.

And in truth, I’m less concerned with the health of the festival industry than the health of the music industry. The music industry is operating like it’s the pre-internet era when it positively isn’t. The labels keep attempting moonshots and all the action is in those who start independently. And of course acts break through, but fewer than ever before. So do you really want to go see a conglomeration of niches?

Ozzy can’t work anymore. So many classic acts of not only the sixties, but the seventies, are dead or retired. And there are the eighties superstars, those made by MTV, but they’re pretty aged themselves. And once we hit the twenty first century we have Coldplay and Dave Matthews… Coldplay is broad, but Dave Matthews is narrow. Metallica is broad in metal, but narrow overall. We all came together in the MTV era, but now we’ve all split apart, and outsiders, and even insiders, expect it to be the same.

Interestingly, the biggest new stars of the past few years, Morgan Wallen and Zach Bryan, come from the country world, which is relatively controlled. On the pop and hip-hop side…everything is more splintered. And country is going that way too.

So for all the news you read about superstars selling out buildings, in truth music is becoming smaller and smaller, acts have a smaller piece of the pie, and do you really want to go to a destination festival to see a ton of acts that are not superstars, most of which don’t appeal to you?

In some cases yes, but in most cases no.

All you have to know is Paul McCartney came to serenade Jimmy on his deathbed. Jimmy knew everybody, and everybody loved him.

Now when my mother died, my older sister said she wanted “She did it all” on her tombstone. Jimmy Buffett truly did it all. When I think of his time on Earth I feel inadequate. Talk about eating up life… It’s very sad he was cut down short, and I’m sure there was more he wanted to do, but when it comes to living life to the fullest, I know no one who has done that to the extent of Jimmy Buffett. NO ONE! And I know a lot of people.

And a lot of them were at the Hollywood Bowl last night. And a lot of them I do not know, but Jimmy did. It was the movers and shakers of Hollywood, there to pay tribute to an entertainer. Sure, Jimmy was smart, and educated, but he built his success out of thin air. From cogitation. He followed in no footsteps. He even created his own community. We hear about fan bases, but Jimmy’s was the apotheosis, once you were in the club, once you were a Parrothead, you never left. Some even went to live in Margaritaville retirement communities. And if you read the story in “The New Yorker,” it sounds pretty appealing: 

“Retirement the Margaritaville Way – At the active-living community for Jimmy Buffett enthusiasts, it’s five o’clock everywhere.”: https://rb.gy/olq4vv

Jimmy wasn’t selling raw hedonism. Not mindless fun. But middle class fun. You work hard so you can let go after work, go sailing on the weekend. Not only did Jimmy’s fans love his music, they wanted to BE Jimmy Buffett!

And Jimmy may have crashed a few airplanes, but he was not featured in the gossip columns, was not all over TMZ. Jimmy was reasonable, like you and me, but not like you and me.

Now the MC was Mac McAnally. Whom I discovered via his 1983 Geffen album “Nothin’ But the Truth.” And it was. And it made me a fan. But Mac was happier playing second fiddle to Jimmy Buffett than being the main draw. But last night, Mac was in charge, he did the intros, he drove the music, with his Alabama/Mississippi perspective, just like James William Buffett himself. You see the south has a long tradition of storytelling, and Mac fits right into that tradition.

So what we had here was the Coral Reefer Band, both by itself and with special guests.

Now the special guest I wanted to see most was Kenny Chesney, who followed in Jimmy’s footsteps, who took up the mantle of the pirate in the islands. Now if you’re a Chesney fan, you know one of his absolute best songs, my favorite of his, is “Back Where I Come From,” which was written by Mac McAnally:

“That’s where I come from

I’m an old Tennessean

Well I’m proud as anyone

That’s where I come from”

That’s where Jimmy went to make it, Nashville, to break through in the music business. And it took him a while to find his groove, but ultimately he had a hit with “Come Monday.” Which Brandi Carlile knocked out of the park last night.

Now the other song I needed to hear was “Son of a Son of a Sailor,” last night performed by Eric Church:

“Where it all ends I can’t fathom my friend

If I knew I might toss out my anchor

So I cruise along always searchin’ for songs

Not a lawyer a thief or a banker”

Jimmy became a billionaire his own way. He didn’t do what all his contemporaries did. He didn’t sell out. And it was the lawyers, the thieves and the bankers who came to his shows to experience the life they could have lived, if only they were willing to take a risky path.

Now not all of us can write songs. But that does not mean the path to fame is ever easy. Harrison Ford was a carpenter before he became Han Solo, a cultural icon. He testified. He talked about how cool Jimmy was, how he was inspired to get his ear pierced after lunch with the man, back when male piercings were a statement, not de rigueur.

And Don Johnson spoke of being invited to dinner at Jimmy’s house in Snowmass, with Jack Nicholson, the Eagles and a ton of cocaine. Yes, we’re old enough to own our past lives, our faux pas, we lived through it, it was a different era.

But not all the stars were on stage. Larry David was there, and left early, just as you’d expect him to.

But Les Moonves and Julie Chen did not, they stayed until the very end. I mean what else has Les got to do? Then again, even the punters don’t stay until the end in Los Angeles, I mean you’ve got to beat the traffic, right?

And David Zaslav, the most hated man in Hollywood, came dressed down to the point where you almost thought it wasn’t him.

Eddy Cue was recognizable from all the Apple presentations.

Bob Iger…it was kind of astounding that this was the guy in the news every day, running the Disney empire, involved not only in movies and TV, but theme parks and politics, wrestling with Ron DeSantis and the state of Florida. Wearing a sweater, he oozed no airs. Nobody did. Because that’s not who Jimmy Buffett was. He was the anti-tie, an emblem of doing it your own way.

Now James Taylor and Dolly Parton spoke via video. But Jane Fonda was there live, as were John McEnroe and Judd Apatow. It wasn’t like an awards show, people spoke off the cuff, made jokes, it was loose, just like a Jimmy Buffett show.

That’s what it was.

If you ever went to see Jimmy Buffett, you know the crowd didn’t sit in reverence. Some people stood throughout (three, unfortunately, in my line of vision). Others talked, others drank. Going to see Jimmy was like going to see the Dead, but unlike Garcia, Buffett was truly Captain Trips. Well, Garcia took you on mind trips, Buffett truly inspired you to journey…to everywhere there was a body of water, not only to relax, but to participate. Jimmy was a man of action. As Will Arnett said, Jimmy was either coming or going, always in motion.

Now there were some left field appearances. Snoop Dogg doing “Gin and Juice.” But it worked because of the vibe. As did Pitbull’s Miami party shtick. Although Pitbull knew Jimmy, told him he’d written the song “Thank God & Jimmy Buffett,” which he performed with Jon Bon Jovi last night.

And it wasn’t only the stars of the moving picture business there last night. Jimmy’s good friend Tom Freston was in attendance, the two were confronted by kidnappers in Africa, fame meant nothing there, and John Sykes and Allen Grubman, who had the chutzpah to tell those in front of him to sit down, which I did not. And, of course, Irving Azoff, who was Jimmy’s manager, then label head, then manager once again.

Jackson Browne played Bob Dylan’s favorite Buffett tune, “He Went to Paris,” but had to stop because he forgot to put in his in-ears. It was that kind of night, loose, mistakes were forgiven, after all, aren’t we all human?

It was a light evening. When most of these tribute shows are somewhat somber. It was a party. And Jimmy would have loved it. Before the show I thought it was sad that he was not there to experience it, but as you were watching you felt that Jimmy was the victor, everybody on stage was subservient to him, because he’d won the game of life in a way they hadn’t.

Except of course for Paul McCartney. As Solters said, he was the reason we were all here, doing this. And that’s true. Beatlemania was a real thing. Everybody picked up guitars, was glued to the radio, spoke with English accents. The only equivalent in my lifetime was the internet, and that was inert, tech, ones and zeros, whereas the Beatles were positively alive and human. Your heart still jumps when you see Paul. I mean he’s right in front of me, alive, still here?

Yes, and he sat at the piano and played “Let It Be,” after the Eagles performed a trio of songs, much heavier, with more gravitas than what had come before, which is what made them so great, they took it to the limit in both the city and the country, all over the world, and last night they paid fealty to the true boy of summer.

And then there was Mac McAnally’s story about performing for the Navy and the Admiral saying if Jimmy ever wanted anything…

Well, what Jimmy wanted was to be dropped from a helicopter in thirty feet of water.

Like I said, Jimmy wanted to do it all. And everybody there last night was just in his wake. He was accessible, and joked and played and there for advice, or comfort… Carlile talked about fishing tips, I think it was Kelly Slater who went on a hike with him.

Or maybe it was Jack Johnson, who sang Jimmy’s greatest song, “A Pirate Looks at Forty.”

“Mother, mother ocean, I have heard your call

Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall”

It was mentioned that Jimmy always had big dreams, and just waited for his feet to be able to take him there.

“I’ve done a bit of smugglin’, and I’ve run my share of grass

I made enough money to buy Miami but I pissed it away so fast

Never meant to last, never meant to last”

It was the seventies. We were all getting high. Not from the refined stuff you get at the cannabis shop, but from the pot dealer, who was not evil like the heroin dealer, usually just a guy you knew, or someone else knew… Then again, there were the big smugglers. They all got arrested, back when we thought marijuana was never gonna be legal.

And that’s the rock lifestyle. You make the money and you spend it. You’re not creating generational wealth. Jimmy had planes… It was only that he was so successful that he ended up so rich.

And every career extension was on brand. Jimmy had an identity. And the music was true to that.

“I go for younger women, lived with several a while

Though I ran ’em away, they’d come back one day

Still could manage to smile

Just takes a while, just takes a while”

When I met Jimmy he was separated from Jane. And, as a matter of fact, he was with a younger woman. But in one of the great love stories, Jimmy and Jane got back together. And were equal partners, seems like Jane got almost as many kudos as Jimmy last night.

Margaritaville is a state of mind. You can be in Alaska in the middle of winter and be in Margaritavile. You’ve just got to let go of your preconceptions, jump into the mental river and go with the flow. Oh, you’re allowed to steer, but if you don’t jump in you’ll never experience what Jimmy did, what we all want to, which is to have new experiences, meet new people, growing all the time.

Jimmy’s one of the few people whose business empire, whose brand extensions, might outlive his music. Margaritaville in all its manifestations, shows no sign of slowing down. It’s kind of like Elvis, not only with pure devotion to the star, but inspiration to take action and find your own way, never forgetting to have fun.

That was the essence of last night, fun. And that’s why Jimmy would have loved it so much. We’re only here for a short while. If you can’t make friends, get high and go on adventures, you’re missing out. You take one step, then another, adjusting along the way. You never know who you’ll meet, you never know what will happen next. But you will know that it’s so f*cking great to be alive. Take that risk now, check items off that bucket list now, that’s Jimmy Buffett’s ultimate message.

If you’re having fun, Jimmy has won. That’s what he did, pursued his dreams, followed his muse, wherever the fun would take him. And not only did it make him rich, it inspired millions of others to wake up and follow him. You can’t ask for more from life.