Word: songs
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...most of the beartraps with little twists of detail. On his third album, "Living and Dying in 3/4 Time," for instance, he describes passing through a fading town called Ringling. It has all the potential for being another Bogdanovichian retarded-kid-sweeping-the-middle-of-the-street song, but in the middle Buffett sings: Across from the bar there's a pile of beer cans been there 27 years. Imagine all the heartaches and tears in 27 years of beers...
...before me, my leg hurts." He got bit, you see, on the subway, by a seeing-eye dog. So Saturday night this Salem-smoking refugee from West Virginia comes in and says, "That line's been rollin' and tumblin' around my head all day. We gotta write a song about gittin' bit by a seeing-eye dog." His almost-heaven West Virginia accent laid me in the aisles, where I rolled over Tim Carlson, self-described "gangly, goofy, blushing, cowlicky, smartass, shynose, sloppy lunch eater" who kneed me in the funny bone, and from then on it was bubbly giggles...
...time our laughter turned to tears, we were committed. It was 8:30 and there were gaggles of parties and we knew that this song, howsomever it turned out, would just have to be sung to the gathered rabble who would be the only ones to appreciate it (I mean, when you're sober and shaking from the vibes of that fifth-of-a-century mile-stone roaring up over the hill and down towards you in a Big Mack diesel dribbling lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise and ashes from a three-foot seegar all over the steaming tar pavement and dwarf...
Well, the loving couple were together; we just had to get back into the story line and pound in the song's general lack of vision; and it was my turn to tinkle the keys...
...blue. A plush veneer--carpets, mirrors, glittered cushions--has been splashed over the walls and floors. In the middle, in the big empty space, people are dancing. From up above them seem one pulsating mass--a motley, throbbing protoplasm that expands and contracts in rhythm to the newest disco song. As the music reaches fever pitch, it threatens to engulf the upper mezzanines, slide out to the hallway, push itself out the door and burst smokily all over Lansdowne Street...