Jimmy Buffett - Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes

To the "Parrotheads" and the youngsters known as "Parakeets," I offer no offence and have nothing but respect for the departed Mister Buffett. He always seemed like a helluva guy and someone who knew how to keep his head up. He also seemed like the kind of guy you'd want to share a drink and laugh with.

For me, as one of the great unwashed, my knowledge of all things Buffett starts and ends with one song. You know the song. Do I have to write it out? Fine, I'll write it out, but I'll have to double check my spelling, but I'm hoping I get this right the first time.

"Margaritaville" there, are you happy?

I was in my early teens when the song had its first run on the radio. Then slowly the song just worked its way into popular culture, and it's sort of stayed there. At least as far as I can tell. I suppose the kids today may not know, but for decades now the song has been a constant in the repertoires of cover bands all over North America, and everybody knows enough of the words to sing along to the chorus. I'll be honest, it was never really my jam, but I also have to admit the song had a charm that was hard to describe.

... and yes, I do know how to play it.

For a guy generally thought of (by me, I guess I should qualify this) as a one-hit wonder, there was certainly a lot more going on than I ever expected. I suppose if you run in a slightly different circle there's a whole world you get a chance to see. For a guy who seemed to come out of nowhere, he'd been there the whole time. Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes was his seventh album, and it wouldn't be his last either. Over his career he managed to attain a level of success that's actually kind of staggering. With eight gold and nine platinum records, that's a lot of precious metal. I really had no idea.

Oh, and he was smart with his money ... he may not have been related to Warren Buffett, but that didn't hold him back from becoming a billionaire ... yes, million with a B.

Listening to Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes has been enthralling. Truly. Maybe I was just in the right mood as the sun was shining through the window and the weather is warming up. Hearing the happy-go-lucky attitude to the songs combined with some great performances was too infectious to ignore.

The album sets the tone early, and there's really something special going on. It's not all soft rock with a hint of country. Although it really is a wonderful merging of tropical with country rock. The good old boys, or I guess more accurately, The Coral Reefer Band could really tear it up. "Tampico Trauma" is a great song, and along with the big guitars and riffage, the song added the kitchen sink with a string arrangement ... really. It's a killer track.

I wonder if Jimmy knew how special "Margaritaville" was when he was finished tracking the song. I wonder if there was a discussion about song order, where it was decided to just take the first side to set the mood, and spool out the line and wait a bit before reeling it in.

I was already hooked, well and truly hooked before flipping the record over. If by chance I hadn't been, the opening double stops that signify the opening sequence to "Margaritaville" would have set that hook firmly. Man, I don't know why I went with a fishing analogy ... I'll just stop. I'm just going to cut bait.

Okay, now I'll stop.

The second side opens with the big hit, and honestly it's the reason I bought the record. I'll also admit that while it's the earworm on the record, it isn't the best song on the album, which really surprised me. Oh, make no mistake, without the song the record wouldn't feel the same, but it's the cherry on top. There are no weak songs or moments where I was impatiently waiting for the next song. It was a really, really good album.

Now, I'll also be the first to admit that as much as I enjoyed this, it scratched the itch. I'm sure I'd enjoy hearing more of his material; who knows, maybe I'll find a copy of his greatest hit album (not a typo) some day.

That would be cool.

To quote Steve Martin, "Well, I'm gonna go then, and I don't need any of this! I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you! I don't need anything, except this."

Billy Rankin - Growin' Up Too Fast

Growin' Up Too Fast was never widely released on CD (if at all), and it was one of the albums I really wanted to get back after a basement flood wiped out my vinyl collection in the '90s (when no one really gave a shit about records, and my insurance gave me a couple hundred bucks for an appraised $10,000 collection). Way back in 1984, my (dearly departed and greatly missed) buddy Dave let me borrow his cassette copy, which included a bonus track of "Get It On (Bang A Gong)." When I eventually bought the album, I didn't know it was a bonus track, or even what a bonus track was. If that sentence was hard to read, just go back and skim it. I'm sure you'll get the gist. I'd find out later Billy was an off-and-on-again member of Nazareth and wrote some absolutely killer songs for them. At the time, though, all I knew was this guy laid it out cold with the opening cut, "Baby Come Back," then proceeded to lay down one killer tune after another bef...

Styx - Paradise Theater

Styx was hands down one of my favourite bands as a kid. They were a strange band, even back then. They were a hard rock band, almost progressive at times, who had a penchant for sucky ballads. I know there's a tendency for people to zero in on "Babe" as the song that killed the band's credibility. The roots go way back to almost the beginning when Styx released "Lady" on their second album. It showed a side to the band that needed to be kept in check, and for the most part the band kept things on a pretty tight leash. The band had been setting a gruelling pace, releasing an album a year (two in 1972) and by the time they released Paradise Theater (if I end up writing theatre later it's because that's how we spell it here) in 1981 they'd dropped ten albums in less than a decade. I snapped this up as soon as I saw it, and it became a fixture on my turntable. Like the band had announced on "Borrowed Time" from 1979's Cornerstone , ...

Lighthouse - Sunny Days

Bin diving at my local record store where there were more than a few choices to make. After picking out a half dozen treasures, I figured I'd stop looking and leave before I caused myself trouble at home. Lighthouse was one of those ridiculously large bands in the early 70s I didn't understand. I mean really, BTO was just four guys, The James Gang was three, until they weren't, what in the world do you do with a dozen guys in a band? Of course I had a radio — it was the first significant purchase I made with my money from cutting lawns. I think at the time it cost about 35 bucks, and had FM and other high frequency things I never got to use living out in the suburbs away from the reach of the big city FM signal. "Sunny Days" was a great song. I remember thinking it was cool and didn't switch to the other AM station when it came on. A few years later, when I got my first record player, the obligatory K-Tel anthologies would feature a myriad of cut up and edited...

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