The two-CD/one-DVD set Live in Anguilla is part of Mailboat's long line of live Jimmy Buffett releases, and even if this contains many of his familiar standards, there's a new twist here. This was a concert recorded in an intimate setting, at the bar of reggae vocalist Bankie Banx in Rendezvous Bay in Anguilla -- a very cozy surrounding for a singer/songwriter who often plays much larger venues back in the states. Just over 3,000 concert-goers were able to attend and they paid for the privilege, but the money was turned over to charities and the set was documented for the Parrotheads back home. Those Parrotheads will find this set to be appealing -- not too much different from the standard Buffett set, but there are a handful of songs previously unavailable on a Buffett live album, and there is an appropriately relaxed vibe here that makes for a good time. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
After a brief dalliance with contemporary country on 2004's License to Chill, Jimmy Buffett returns to his tried-and-true Caribbean pop with Take the Weather With You, and if anybody familiar with the Crowded House tune that lends its title to this thought that it would be Jimmy Buffett's move toward subtle, tasteful tunes, just doesn't know Buffett all that well. If anything, Take the Weather With You leans even more heavily on the cheerfully silly pseudo-novelties that have been his stock in trade since at least "Cheeseburger in Paradise," if not longer. Titles like "Cinco de Mayo in Memphis" and "Reggabilly Hill" are a pretty clear tip-off to that, and there's more where these came from: even such seemingly straight-ahead songs like "Elvis Presley Blues" bring the yucks, too, and this whole record has an air of frivolity that is not uncommon for Buffett, but the sheer magnitude of mirth here is a little disarming, particularly coming on the heels of such relatively recent, low-key adventures as License to Chill or Don't Stop the Carnival. Not that Buffett shies away from the big issues: he tackles the chaos that terrorism has wrought in the 21st century and he confronts the alienation of the digital world, but he does them under the guise of "Party at the End of the World" and "Everybody's on the Phone," two sunny joke-laden larks that suggests that the best thing to do is just relax and party. There's some merit to such an argument, since it's better in times of stress to ease tension than to stoke it, but in order to get with Buffett's party you have to share Buffett's attitude -- in other words, if you're not already a Parrothead, Weather With You is not the album to win you over, since it is pure, unadulterated Jimmy Buffett, containing everything his fans love about him and everything his detractors hate. There are plenty of things that will grate on the those who have little patience for Buffett's easy-rolling music and corny jokes -- performances so laid-back they verge on lazy, puns and obvious quips are abundant -- but these are the things that appeal to his fans, and these traits are heard at their peak on Take the Weather With You. There are plenty of songs that are directly pitched to Buffett's longtime fans -- songs about turning into grandparents, songs about watching college football on the weekend, songs about how things are so different now than they were back then -- and they're not just delivered with casual charm, they're catchy and well-written too, so it's not just a strong album by Buffett's standards, but one of his better latter-day efforts. Apart from the title track, there is nothing unexpected here -- and that's unexpected not only because it's a left-field choice for Buffett, but because it's performed with a grace and subtlety the song deserves -- but after a contemporary country album, that's exactly what his fans want, and they're bound to be pleased by Take the Weather With You, which captures Jimmy Buffett in his full beach bum glory. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
At some point, Jimmy Buffett -- like the Grateful Dead -- learned to turn his music and persona into a cottage industry and big bucks. And while cynics might view the onslaught of CDs, DVDs, and merchandise as crass, the folks buying seem to want it. In Buffett's case, it doesn't hurt that he has a knack for delivering -- musically and performance-wise -- exactly what fans want on albums like Live at Fenway Park. One shouldn't expect long jams or reinterpretations of classic songs here, but fairly straightforward, competently delivered versions of everything from "Volcano" to "Come Monday" to "Margaritaville." Live at Fenway Park, then, is basically a soundtrack to a Parrothead party that took place in Boston on September 10th and 12th, complete with screaming, happy fans. It's no secret that Buffett's a bit of a goofball, and he loves to talk to the crowd between songs and doesn't even mind shouting out a bit of nonsense right in the middle of a song. What, then, makes this collection special when a number of other live Buffett discs are on the market? Probably the fact that the package holds two complete unedited audio discs and -- for the grand finale -- has a 55-minute DVD that includes film footage from both shows. Interestingly, it would seem that Buffett, like the Dead and Pearl Jam, has learned that it's fun (and profitable) to release one's own bootlegs. To break out a tired old cliché, Live at Fenway Park is probably the best thing next to being there, and will supply the perfect soundtrack for inviting a few Parrotheads over for margaritas. ~ Ronnie D. Lankford, Jr., All Music Guide
The double-disc Live in Hawaii is part of Mailboat's series of live releases documenting Jimmy Buffett's 2003/2004 tour. These, to put it mildly, are not deluxe releases -- there are no liner notes and on the cover there's the same photo of Buffett that's on all the other Mailboat releases, only this time a lei is Photoshopped around his neck -- but for the Parrothead who absolutely needs live discs of a lot, but not all, of Buffett's latter-day work (since a lot, but not all, of the shows were released on disc), that probably doesn't matter, since having documents of individual shows matters more than either the packaging or music itself. The music itself is fine, as it goes, but apart from a couple of cuts with Henry Kapono, a "Why Don't We Get Drunk" on ukuleles, and a version of "Quiet Village" with that tune's author, Martin Denny, there's nothing in the set lists or performances that distinguishes it from any of the other Mailboat releases, or any of the other live albums in his catalog, but that still might be enough for the Parrotheads. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Early in the 2000s, Jimmy Buffett experienced one of his periodic revivals thanks to the legions of contemporary country singers indebted to his sunny, relaxed party music. His influence had been bubbling under during the latter half of the '90s, but in 2003 he suddenly was front and center, performing a duet with Alan Jackson on the "Margaritaville"-styled smash "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere," while echoes of his music were clearly heard in country's first superstar of the new millennium, Kenny Chesney. Never one to miss an opportunity -- or, as he puts it in the liner notes, "not being one to let a cultural phenomenon pass me by like a misguided comet" -- Buffett decided to go the whole hog and record his own country album, License to Chill, for the summer of 2004. He calls in a lot of favors here, drafting Jackson, Chesney, Toby Keith, Clint Black, George Strait, Martina McBride, Nanci Griffith, and, for a change of pace, Bill Withers, for duets on this generous 16-track album. Usually, such a surplus of guest stars overwhelms the main artist, but that isn't the case here, since everybody bends to fit Buffett's style instead of the reverse. These guests not only give Buffett a straight man for his jokes, but also help focus his musical direction and song selection, since it all feeds into the album's sun-kissed contemporary country direction. Musically, this isn't all that far removed from either his early-'70s work or "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere," which is hardly a surprise, but what is surprising is that it's one of the most enjoyable latter-day albums from this notoriously inconsistent artist. There are still some overly silly, even embarrassing moments, such as the frequent tossed-off puns and the cringe-inducing "Simply Complicated," but these are the exceptions on this cheery collection of laid-back country-rockers and beach ballads. Again, the difference on License to Chill isn't the music, but the consistency of the songwriting and the performances, resulting not only in Buffett's strongest record in years, but an album that sits comfortably next to that new Kenny Chesney album, and that means he accomplished exactly what he set out to do. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
It's easy to compare any singer to their best work, though not always very helpful. In fact, comparing Far Side of the World to A-1-A or A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean is a little like comparing steak to seafood. They're simply two different entrées, and while someone may like steak and dislike seafood, a number of discerning individuals like both. Critics and certain fans may prefer Jimmy Buffett's 1970s output, but the head parrot has long ago sailed on to smoother waters. It's probably more helpful to compare Far Side of the World to albums like Banana Wind and Fruitcakes, where Buffett settled into his role as elder statesman of sun, surf, and sand fantasies. First of all, the arrangements and production on Far Side of the World vary quite a bit from these earlier 1990s efforts. The rich vocal harmony in "Blue Guitar" evokes Paul Simon's Graceland, while the dirty slide guitar of "Last Man Standing" casts a glance back at Little Feat. Still, the basic approach remains the same. Funny songs like "What if the Hokey-Pokey Is All It Really Is About?" remind one of "Vampires, Mummies and the Holy Ghost" (Fruitcakes), while self-referential pieces like "Altered Boy" recall "Only Time Will Tell" and "Cultural Infidel" (Banana Wind). Buffett talks his way through much of the eight-minute "Autour du Rocher," just as he talks his way through much of "Overkill" (Banana Wind) and "Fruitcakes" (Fruitcakes). There are tender moments and outrageous ones, all signifying that only one person could've made this album. Far Side of the World holds up well to Fruitcakes and Banana Wind, and more important still, parrotheads will love it. ~ Ronnie D. Lankford, Jr., All Music Guide