 Discography -> A White Sport Coat And A Pink Crustacean
Produced by Don Gant for ABC Records Jimmy Buffett - Acoustic Rhythm Guitar Steve Goodman* - Acoustic Lead Guitar Reggie Young - Electric Lead Guitar Doyle Gresham - Pedal Steel Guitar Ed "Lump" Williams - Bass Guitar Mike Utley - Piano Greg "Fingers" Taylor - Harmonica Sammy Creason - Drums Phil Royster - Congas Johnny Gimble - Fiddle Shane Keester - Moog Synthesizer Vassar Clements - Fiddle Ferrell Morris - Percussion Marvin Gardens - Maracas and Beer Cans Sand Key Chorale (Jimmy Buffett/Don Gant/Buzz Carson) - Background Voices The Buffets; Carol Montgomery/Diane Harris - Background Voices * Steve Goodman appears through the courtesy of Buddah Records God’s own Truck appears through the courtesy of Monroe County Glass Co., Key West, Florida Recorded at Glaser Sound, Nashville, Tennessee./Engineer- Lee Hazen Cover Photo - Guy de la Valden Album Design - Alan Sekuler Art Direction - Ruby Boyd Mazur Special Thanks - (In Key West) To Bob Hall and Sea Farms, and The Thompson O’Neal Shrimp Co. for supplying the pink crustaceans which made a great cover and a fine dinner. (In Nashville) To Don Light for the guidance and patience over the last few years. A White Sport Coat and A Pink Crustacean The folk orientation in recent music has always been selective and a little arbitrary. We are the beset by the quack minstrels of a non-existent America, bayed at by the children of retired orthodontists about "hard times" and just generally depleted by all the clown biographies and ersatz subject matter of the drugs-and-country insurgence that is replacing an earlier song mafia. In fact, maybe your stereo has already shorted out with slobber anyway. Nevertheless, it does not seem too late for Jimmy Buffett to arrive. He is dedicated as ever to certain indecencies and shall we say reversible brain damage; his duties toward the shadowy Club Mandible of Key West have yet to be explained. And of course he was among the first of the Sucking Chest Wound Singers to sleep on the yellow line. And as a souvenir of some not so terrible times, this throwback altarboy of Mobile, Alabama brings spacey up-country tunes strewn with forgotten crabtraps, Confederate memories, chemical daydreams, Ipana vulgarity, ukele madness and, yes Larry, a certain sweetness, But there is a good deal to admire in Buffett’s inspired evocations from this queerly amalgamated past most Americans now share. What Jimmy Buffett knows is that our personal musical history lies at the curious hinterland where Hank Williams and Xavier Cugat meet with somewhat less animosity than the theoreticians would have us believe. - Tom McGuane
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