
Date of issue: 16.11.2017
Record label: Mailboat
Song language: English
The Mobile Days (narration) |
Buried Treasure, The Mobile Days |
Hi this is Jimmy and welcome to Buried Treasure |
there’s a reason why we’re calling this |
collection of songs and stories Buried Treasure |
Because they were literally buried in a closet |
in a recording studio in Nashville for decades |
They were discovered by an old friend Travis Turk |
who actually recorded these tracks in Moblle, Alabama in 1969 |
and more in Nashville in the years following |
When we both wound up moving there |
Travis eventually recorded the first two albums I recorded |
in Nashville as well |
The actual buried treasure was discovered in Buzz Cason’s |
Creative Workshop studio about ten years ago |
Buzz is a legendary producer in Nashville and was |
the first person to sign me to a recording contract |
Well the universe must have been working |
because as fate would have it, Travis had been hired |
by Buzz as the sound engineer and in-house producer |
When Buzz sold Creative Workshop to John and Martina |
McBride |
There was some cleaning up to do and Buzz asked Travis to |
go through the storage room and see if anything was |
worth saving before he ordered the dumpster bin |
That’s when I got a call from Travis that he had found |
a sizeable collection of quarter inch tapes that were |
the demos of songs that I had written and recorded |
for Buzz when I was writing for his publishing company |
It turned out that there were over 125 songs in that pile |
of tape boxes |
Also discovered were the original first recordings Travis |
had engineered in Mobile |
And that is where the whole story of Buried Treasure starts |
It was in 1969 when I returned to Mobile from my |
coming-of-age years, living in the French Quarter |
in New Orleans |
As a 20-year-old and playing in a band in Bourbon Street |
Driving East on Highway 90, the first song, light of my life |
in my 1963 Ford Falcon, WTIX the mighty 690 |
was playing the soundtrack of my exodus from New Orleans |
Elvis was caught in a trap, the Beatles were coming together |
Sly was having a hot time in the summertime and |
Paul Simon was in a clear ring with a boxer |
I sang along, I knew all these songs by heart |
Hell we’d play them every night at our gig on Bourbon Street |
that long hot summer when the showbiz bug bit me |
for the first time |
And I never recovered |
I knew that the stage was where I belonged |
But staying beneath the brightly coloured lights |
proved harder than I thought |
More about this later but the simple fact was that |
jobs in my newly chosen profession had become scare that fall |
In one of the most musical places on earth |
The only work i could find was playing drums, |
Something I hadn’t done since I was in the St, Catherine’s school |
marching band, when I was 12 |
It did not take that club manager long to figure out that he had |
not hired the next Ringo Starr |
It was the first and only job ever was fired from and he |
was right |
Trying to sort out my future, I looked to the past |
I headed back to Eastern shore to try to sort things out |
Yep, the prodigal son was going home |
Before I knew it was back at the shipyard working days as an |
electrician helper |
And looking for gigs in the waterfront bars around Royal Street |
at night |
Then one morning I spot an ad in the Press Register announcing |
Bob Cooke at the Admiral Corner bar at the Admiral Sims hotel |
Bob had been the leader of a great group in New Orleans |
He was a one-of-a-kind frontman |
I studied him from far early that summer and then we became friends |
when we wound up on the same bill at the Bayou Room |
I was the sorcerer’s apprentice observing him from a barstool |
doing his magic |
He more than anyone, taught me how to work a crowd |
I popped in on his show one night, |
at the Admiral’s Corner and we caught up on his break |
He had left the group and was doing solo gigs now |
and happy to be a one-man show again |
He invited me up that night to sit-in |
The hometown boy was finally performing in his hometown |
I became a regular guest performer and when the cocktail hour |
piano player moved on, the manager at the hotel |
offered me that spot |
When Bob’s month was up, I got an offer to headline |
It could not have come at a better time |
The backdrop to all this was the grim shadow |
to the Vietnam War, If you’re interested you can |
read about those days in a story entitled Vietnam, Mississippi |
in my first book |
As it turned out I graduated from college along with solo’ing |
an airplane for the first time |
If I was going to Vietnam, |
I sure as hell was gonna see it from a plane |
As it worked out, the war passed me by but |
the student loans coming due, did not |
I was happy to have a steady job and steady income |
Even if I was still in Mobile, |
It took a while but I became a bit of a local attraction |
Packing the animals corner to fire marshall capacity at weekends |
75 people max |
Of course with that kind of a following, |
I started dreaming of the big time |
again and hearing myself on the radio |
Only thing was, |
you have to have a record in order to get played on the radio |
Well there were no major talent scouts |
hanging around the Animal’s Corner in those days so |
If I wanted to make a record to sell |
at the gig and try to get on local radio, |
I had to find a studio and of course pay |
for the recording session myself |
So way back then before Social Media |
had sent us to space and back for instant information, |
I let my fingers do the walking through the yellow pages |
Until I came across an ad for Production Sound Studio’s |
Sounded pretty professional to me. |
I called the studio asked |
about the rates and times and booked myself a session |
To make a two-sided, 45 rpm record, I’ve always thought that |
being born on Christmas entitled me to a few lucky breaks and |
Travis Turk that day in the studio sure seemed to be one of those |
Travis was a DJ on the local country station and an engineer |
It was there that Travis introduced me to Milton Brown |
who owned a studio and supposedly had Nashville connections |
It turned out that indeed he did and it was MIlton |
who gave me my first real break |
Looking back it’s funny the way things turned out |
Going back home was one of the best |
and luckiest moves I ever made |
My luck didn’t stop there though, |
Travis moved to Nashville, where he recorded song demos |
and produced my first album |
But i’m getting a little ahead of myself |
Speeding down the road to success here, |
which certainly was not how it all came about |
so we’ll just stick to the Mobile recording’s for now |
A lot of the tape boxes Travis found, contained a good |
number of songs I remember recording |
But also quite a few that had slipped my memory |
But these first two songs I could never forget |
Don’t bring me candy and Abandoned on Tuesday |
were the first two songs I wrote and recorded, |
My first time in a real studio |
Damn I sound young |
That’s because I was, needless to say |
Hearing these songs for the first time in 40 years |
was a trip |
It’s amazing how they immediately conjured up memories |
of that first experience, of where and how the songs were written |
Who played on the sessions, who was just hanging around the studio |
What was going on in the music world beyond |
Mobile and how in the hell can we get there |
I think that’s why it’s so easy to |
compare this collection with a hidden treasure |
But the value of this discovery would be determined more by listeners |
than by treasure hunters |
The example that comes to mind for me |
is Ry Cooder’s classic Buena Vista Social Club album |
It was never supposed to happen |
The original idea of having great musicians from Mali |
travel to Cuba and validate the Afro Cuban roots of Carribean music |
Turned into a tropical trainwreck, it is all wonderfully documented |
in the film by the same name |
When It was finished and had reached amazing critical and financial |
success |
Ry says in the opening segment of the film, |
quote, you never know what the public is gonna buy |
I certainly din’t even know if the public would ever hear anything |
that came out of Project Sound |
Well thanks to a lot of luck, we have dug it up, dusted it off and are |
about to find out |
So as the story goes, I made and paid for my record |
It came out on the AudioMobile label |
That first record did not get me through any doors |
of any radio stations in my old hometown |
But, it definitely was a career move |
Though I didn’t know it at the time. |
Milton provided |
the launchpad from which my rocket blasted off |
To where no Mobilean had ever gone before |
So as they say in nautical terms |
Product Sound Studio was the port from which I embarked |
on this musical journey |
Which has been a wonderful, amazing and lucky voyage that |
continues to this day |
So to the crew, |
that great first crew that helped me cast off the lines, |
from the Port of Mobile back in 1969, |
To Travis, to Milton, Nick, |
Johnny and Ricky and I’m sure people I’ve forgotten, Thank You |
For sending me on this lovely cruise |
And this is the song that started the |
whole thing, it’s called Don’t Bring me Flowers |
Name | Year |
---|---|
Knee Deep ft. Jimmy Buffett | 2010 |
It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere ft. Jimmy Buffett | 2006 |
Margaritaville | 1992 |
Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die ft. Jimmy Buffett, Emmylou Harris, Sheryl Crow | 2020 |
A Pirate Looks At Forty | 1992 |
Playin' the Loser Again ft. Bill Withers | 2018 |
Cheeseburger In Paradise | 1992 |
License to Chill ft. Kenny Chesney | 2018 |
Christmas Island | 1995 |
Who's The Blonde Stranger? | 1992 |
My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink And I Don't Love Jesus | 1975 |
Come Monday | 1992 |
Why Don't We Get Drunk | 1992 |
One Particular Harbour | 1992 |
Scarlet Begonias | 2018 |
Fins | 1992 |
Brown Eyed Girl | 1992 |
La Vie Dansante | 1986 |
Go Cubs Go ft. Steve Goodman | 2017 |
School Boy Heart | 1995 |