Jimmy Buffett, in his own words: 'I'm not a great singer ... but I'm a good entertainer'

Jimmy Buffett, who died Sept. 1 at 76 following a four-year battle with Merkel skin cancer, knew exactly what accounted for his decades of success.

"I'm not a great singer, and I'm not a great guitar player. But I'm a good entertainer," the Mississippi-born Buffett said in an in-depth interview with the San Diego Union-Tribune in 2000.

Buffett's tropical-flavored songs, starting with his 1977 breakthrough hit, "Margaritaville," were direct, simple and free of even a hint of artifice. By turns introspective and hedonistic, gentle and upbeat, they spoke to a large number of his fellow baby boomers and made him a consistently popular singer-songwriter whose tours filled arenas, amphitheaters and even stadiums.

His audience — fondly known as Parrotheads and often colorfully attired at his concerts — happily embraced Buffett's boozy, beach-bum ethos. That ethos transformed him from a struggling young troubadour and onetime hippie and music critic into a billionaire entrepreneur and bestselling author.

Buffett's empire included an array of products, from salt shakers, cheeseburger-shaped pillows and a record label to restaurants and resorts. His newest Magaritaville hotel opened recently in downtown San Diego.

But it was Buffett's songs and easygoing, "aw shucks" demeanor that fueled his success. The fact that those songs could be easily learned and played by almost anybody was not lost on him.

Buffett, who earned a degree in journalism in 1969, acknowledged the simplicity of his music in a 2017 interview prior to the La Jolla Playhouse premiere of the Buffett-inspired musical "Escape to Margaritaville." That partly autobiographical musical went on to have a brief Broadway run.

The sing-song qualities of his music did not sit well with many music critics, who dismissed him as a second-rate talent with little to offer.

Never mind that in a 2009 interview, Bob Dylan cited Buffett's "Death of an Unpopular Poet" and "He Went to Paris" as two of his favorite songs. Moreover, in 1982, Dylan teamed with Joan Baez at a concert to perform Buffett's wistful ballad, "A Pirate Looks at 40."

His critics, Buffett noted in a 2000 interview, didn't matter to him.

"I just don't listen to them anymore," he said. "Because, as Faulkner said, 'I don't read reviews — they hurt my feelings.' (Critics) say, 'Well, he's just playing the same old [crap].' Well, that's what people pay to see. I'm an entertainer, and until I can't fill up seats, I'm not going to listen to any of that [criticism].

"I listen to my audience. I connect with my audience. I don't play at my audience, I play for my audience."

"I'd like to make a career out of being uncategorizable," he said. "I want people to say, 'He did this and he did that, but what did he really do?' That sort of fits me."

While many tributes to Buffett are being published, his legacy is best captured in his own words. Here are tidbits from his April 16, 2000, interview with the San Diego Union-Tribune.

Pivotal musical moment: "I saw a folk-music group on stage in Biloxi [Miss.] in about 1961, the Village Singers. And it was the magic of performers working an audience — three guys with Martin guitars, entertaining people. When I saw that magic of entertaining done so well, bam! I said: 'I want to do that.'"

First performance: "A month later, after playing in front of my bathroom mirror, I went to a hootenanny night. My mom brought her friends, I got on stage, and I was awful! I'll never forget it. I had a terrible guitar, a Stella, that I kept in a canvas bag ... and I remember how bad I was. But if I hadn't gotten up there, it never would have happened for me later."

Stage fright: "It was terrifying when I started out. And it certainly wasn't comfortable for a while, until you figure out a comfort factor. Most people get scared to death walking on stage in front of 20,000 people. I don't talk about it much; it's like the magician's bag of tricks."

" ... I don't know if it was so much that people had hope back then, as much as people were having a good time. There was a real camaraderie and sense of community then; now there's less of that. But the internet, for all its good and bad points, has a real opportunity to re-create that sense of community at a smaller level."

First day-job: "I'd gotten a degree in journalism in 1969, and it came in handy, although I had no plans to use it. I tried to make a living as a singer in Nashville, and couldn't get work. One day I answered an ad in the paper; Billboard [the top music-trade weekly] was looking for an editorial assistant."

First mentor: "I was working for Bill Williams, Billboard's country-music editor, who knew the music business like the back of his hand. And that was worth 10 college educations to me. He'd heard my music, and had a sense I was going somewhere. He was probably the first great teacher I had, and you'd better listen to people like that, because the information he had was priceless."

Songwriting: "I think it's the ability to tell a story, and to find a story, and you do that by listening. And you have to listen to a lot of other people to tell your story, and to find information that helps your [song] writing career. You also have to learn not to feel your opinion is the only one around, that you are fallible and that no one's perfect. And that is certainly true of me."

Performing: "I always loved musical theater. I kind of forced it into our shows a little, without making people think they were going to a Broadway musical. I started using choreographers, not to dance, but to show us movement for non-moving people. There are subtle things we put in that affected the shows, in a positive way. You have to go for those kinds of stretches, but they come naturally."