The Casino File
By Chuck Darrow
From the sounds of it, there didn’t appear to be much of a choice for Jimmy Buffett’s venerable backing unit, The Coral Reefer Band, when the beloved singer-songwriter-hospitality-industry-mogul breathed his last on Sept. 1, 2023: Calling it quits just wasn’t an option.
“It got a fair amount of publicity that one of Jimmy’s last lines was, ‘Keep the party going!’ And that, I guess, is basically our directive from the boss,” recalled guitarist-vocalist Mac McAnally during a recent phone call occasioned by the Reefer Band’s Jan. 24 Buffett tribute concert at Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Atlantic City.
“And it’s an easy thing to do; it’s a party he kept going for four-plus decades. He’s got a bunch of fans that he supplied a specific unique thing for. And we’re gonna try to keep that going.
“It’s essentially us, the, the Coral Reefer Band playing his music for his fans. It’s just like a family reunion. I mean, people have been coming to Buffett shows for four- plus decades. And some of us have been playing them for that long.”
McAnally’s history with the man from “Margaritaville” dates to 1981 (more on that later). Those 43-plus years have provided him with a clear vision of why the decision to keep the Buffett flag waving was pretty much a no-brainer.
“Losing the guy [to a rare form of skin cancer called Merkel cell carcinoma] just served as a reminder of how much joyous music he left for us,” he offered. “It’s still here. And the last thing he would ever want is anybody being sad about anything. So, we’re just gonna try to remind folks to be happy.”
Although McAnally is an accomplished singer-songwriter in his own right, he hasn’t assumed the role of full-time front-person. Instead, he is one of several band members who share that duty.
“We’re blessed with several good singers,” bragged the 67-year-old Alabama-born, Mississippi-bred musician. “The last year [2023] we toured with Jimmy, we brought Scotty Emrick out with, with us. Scotty literally had Jimmy Buffett songs in his bottle as a baby. He knows every album cut from the beginning of time. He and Jimmy were having a blast singing all the ancient album cuts that Jimmy hadn’t played in 20 years. And he’s still singing some lead now. And so is [guitarist] Peter Mayer, and so is Nadir Shakur.”
McAnally noted there is also an extra microphone wherever the group performs.
“If you see any of our shows, you’ll notice we keep Jimmy’s mic on stage,” he said, adding it’s the band’s way of reminding themselves and the audience of “Parrotheads” that, “Nobody’s trying to replace Jimmy Buffett. We’re just trying to honor what he did.”
Despite being Buffett’s musical lieutenant for decades, McAnally had no inside information as to how serious his boss’ condition was until it became impossible for Buffett to hide.
“As I said before, he never wanted anybody to be sad,” he said. “So, he kept the treatment stuff to himself–longer than you would’ve imagined. But he just didn’t want it to be on anybody’s [mind] until it was obvious that he was losing some weight and when he had to miss some shows. We had to address it at that point.
“But even then, he wasn’t speaking in terms of, ‘This is gonna be my last album.’ Even very late in the process, he was still, with a very weak voice, saying, ‘We’re going to Paris in September. Be ready!’
“My line for that is, I think it’s possible to accept things without surrendering to ’em. Jimmy never surrendered.”
How McAnally and Buffett connected is a sweet story—and one with a crucial Philadelphia component.
At the time they met, McAnally was an up-and-coming singer-songwriter who had a good deal of music-industry buzz around him when he released his self-titled debut album in 1977 (in total, his solo-career discography boasts 14 studio LPs and one live set). As was standard back then, the record’s release was accompanied by a tour that brought him to Philly’s Bijou Café, an intimate, bi-level nightclub on the north side of Lombard Street just steps west of Broad Street.
As McAnally recalled in a 2009 interview I did with him for the Philadelphia Daily News, Buffett was familiar with his work. “Jimmy either played that night [in Philly], or he was in town [for an upcoming gig]. He wrote me a note that said, ‘We’re both from Mississippi and we’re both storytellers. We’re gonna write together and we’re gonna be friends.’”
Buffett’s words came true, but not until 1981, when their first collaboration, the Buffett track, “It’s My Job,” was recorded.
Their teaming up continued–but only behind the scenes, as McAnally spent 15 years turning down Buffett’s invitations to tour with him. His excuse always was that he didn’t want to leave his family for an extended period of time. In 1989, the pair began performing as an acoustic duo; seven years later, Buffett was no longer willing to let him off the hook in terms of the Coral Reefer Band.
“He called me,” McAnally related in 2009, “and said, ‘My kids are comin’ out this summer. You’re goin’ out and bringin’ your kids!’ I’ve been doin’ it ever since.”
For McAnally, that association couldn’t have worked out any better.
“I was not born with that ambition of being in the middle of the stage,” he admitted. “Even though I’m very blessed to get to play some solo shows and to make solo records, my personal ambition is just to be associated with good work. I just wanna be connected to good music. And it doesn’t matter to me if I’m singing it or playing it or writing it or producing it or going to get fast food for people that are better than me at making it.
“I don’t really care to what degree or what my specific job description is. I just wanna be connected to good work, and to contribute in any way.
“Jimmy was born with plenty of the ambition that I was without. He wanted that spotlight, but he shared it really well. And that’s unique. You don’t see that every day.”
Working with Buffett also kept McAnally from having the kinds of responsibilities and pressures a star faces on a regular basis.
“Over the years, I’ve never made an album or written a batch of songs because I had 60 employees waiting on me to tour, so I have to finish the new record, or I’ve got somebody drumming their fingers because I missed a deadline,” he reasoned.
“I make a record when I feel like I’ve got something to say. I don’t think, ‘I have to have 12 songs written by February.’ I write 12 songs when I’ve lived enough life that it ends up documenting itself, whenever that happens.
“And for me, that’s a luxury.”
For tickets, go to ticketmaster.com.
Chuck Darrow has spent more than 40 years writing about Atlantic City casinos.
