Sunday News
Published: Oct. 5, 2008
By JOHN DUFFY, Correspondent
In 1971, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young were on the ropes. Their album "Déjà Vu" had been massively successful, but the group's members were heading in divergent musical and personal directions, well-evidenced on the disappointing live effort "Four Way Street," which consisted mostly of members playing by themselves.
On top of that, Nash's three-year relationship with songwriter Joni Mitchell — about whom he wrote the hit "Our House" — had ended abruptly. The dissolution of these partnerships would be a creative inspiration for Nash. His first solo album, "Songs for Beginners," was a surprise release that year, and to this day is considered among his best achievements.
This fall, that album gets its first proper CD treatment as a two-disc set from Atlantic/Rhino, complete with remastered sound with several mix options, new liner notes and an insightful interview with Nash about his award-winning photography. Its release coincides with a tour Nash is undertaking as a duo with David Crosby, an on-and-off partnership since the very days of "Songs for Beginners." The duo will perform at 7:30 p.m. tonight at Sovereign Performing Arts Center in Reading.
When Crosby, Stills & Nash first came together in Cass Elliot's living room in 1968, Graham was the outsider. Stephen Stills came from the genre-defying Buffalo Springfield, and David Crosby from the folk-rock inventing Byrds, the closest thing America could offer as an answer to the Beatles. Both were Southern California music veterans.
Nash, on the other hand, was English, formerly a member of the twee pop group the Hollies. He had an incredible voice, had written several hit songs for the Hollies and had pushed the band toward bold psychedelic experiments. But he had little street cred.
Early CSN hits like "Marrakesh Express," "Our House," about his early bucolic bliss with Mitchell, and the group's most recognizable standard, "Teach Your Children," all came from Nash's pen. Neil Young, another heavyweight writer, joined the group in the summer of 1969.I
t wasn't until things fell apart in both Nash's musical and personal spheres that he finally earned recognition as a solo artist.Nash never intended to release a solo album, hoping instead to bring CSN&Y back together. (He had taken on the role of peacemaker in the group.)
But the songs came, and friends — from Young (who appears under a pseudonym) and Crosby to Dave Mason, Jerry Garcia, Phil Lesh and Rita Coolidge — were there to help out. The results are as good, and perhaps better in some cases, than the solo efforts of Crosby, Stills and Young that came first.
"Better Days" channels classic gospel to find hope in a hopeless situation, rising from a simple piano into a rousing refrain, drenched in saxophone and churchy singing.
On the gentle, acoustic "Wounded Bird," Nash expresses pain reborn as empathy in a tune written about bandmate Stephen Stills, then going through a tumultuous breakup with folk singer Judi Collins. He hints at his own well of loss on "Sleep Song," rolling over in the morning to kiss his lover awake, only to realize it was a dream and she is already walking out the door. A glimpse of her dress is the last thing he ever sees of her.
By far, the album's great triumph is "I Used to Be a King," a scathing, soul-baring bit of self-mockery that alludes to "King Midas in Reverse," an old Hollies hit that was still knocking around the CSN&Y set list.
Garcia's glassy pedal steel and Crosby's shaky baritone guitar give the song an epic feel befitting a story of a man fallen from great heights: "I used to be a king, but everything around me turned to rust," sings Nash, a man standing very much alone. Ever the stoic optimist, Nash manages a little hope in the chorus: "Someone is going to take my heart/ But no one is going to break my heart again."
Nash being Nash, of course, a couple of protest songs made the cut as well, as if to certify that he hadn't given up on ideas greater than his own pain."Military Madness" linked Nash's wartime birth to Vietnam, while "Chicago" was written about the fallout from the 1968 Democratic Convention protests. By 1971, seven people were being tried for inciting the riots. The song also was a thinly veiled jab at Young and Stills, who turned down an invitation to play a benefit for the defendants as a group. Nash went anyway.
To this day, these activist songs are two of his best, played as recently as 2006, when CSN&Y came to Hersheypark Stadium on their critically praised, culturally toxic Freedom of Speech tour.
This time around, Crosby and Nash are again out to change the political landscape in an election year. But as gentle, pensive and thoroughly inward-looking as "Songs for Beginners" is, the duo can do it quietly.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Mac man delivers 'Gift of Screws'
Sunday News
Published: Oct. 5, 2008
by John Duffy, Correspondent
For years, Lindsey Buckingham had the hardest time finishing solo projects. A resolute perfectionist and studio tinkerer, he would spend years crafting his elegant, eccentric pop music. Half of the time he would be delayed by label indifference or corralled into one more round with Fleetwood Mac, the group he has fronted with Stevie Nicks since 1974.
His career stretches back to 1968, when Fritz, a band he co-led with Nicks, opened for Big Brother and the Holding Company at Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco. But he's only put out five solo discs since first trying in 1982.
He left the Mac in 1987 in an effort to keep his creative energies focused on his own songs, but it was another six years before anything came of it.With the delivery of "Gift of Screws" this month, he's improved his pace to two solo albums in two years. Buckingham is touring in support of the album and will swing by Sovereign Performing Arts Center in Reading on Friday, Oct. 10.
In 2006, Buckingham released "Under the Skin," a quiet, introspective and deeply personal recording. Most of the songs were written in hotel rooms on a mobile recording unit he crates along on tour. At the time of its much-praised release, Buckingham promised a new, "more rocking" record within a year.
Many folks didn't believe it was possible, considering his track record, but here it is."I started 'Under the Skin' with deliberate ideas of what I wanted the songs to be like, or in fact not be like," he said in a telephone interview from a Nashville, Tenn., hotel room. Instead of rock songs, he came out with acoustic-drenched chamber pop with lush vocals and airy arrangements."When I got around to finishing these new songs, it just sort of happened that it turned into more of a loud, electric, lead-guitar sound."
Most of the 10 tracks on "Gift of Screws" feature the drums and driving pop hooks its predecessor avoided in favor of atmosphere and introspection. Like all Buckingham efforts, the disc was recorded entirely at his elaborate home studio. The songs themselves took a long time to find a home."Some of the tracks date all the way back to 1997 when we got back together to do the live album," Buckingham said, referring to the multiplatinum Fleetwood Mac CD/DVD "The Dance."
The solo album he was pursuing at the time got shelved, taking some songs along with it. "Then working on a solo project again in 2001, we got into what became 'Say You Will.'" The 19-track Mac album contains virtually an entire Buckingham solo record.
"Its not the first time there was that kind of an intervention," he said, laughing. After more than 30 years with the group, he's learned not to be territorial.That kind of heavy borrowing has happened a few times, and it isn't entirely unwelcome."It's sometimes difficult to have stuff sitting around for so long, you just want to get it out there just to get it off the books."
He would prefer to do so at his own pace, but band politics and label agendas can dictate otherwise. While a respected tunesmith, Buckingham's solo discs have never moved the kind of units that the Mac has, and his work has often been met with indifference by the very people at his label that he has helped make millionaires many times over.
"Under the Skin" was dismissed out of hand by Warner Bros. "They said, 'Yeah, we want to work with you, but we're not going to do anything with this,'" he recalled. "And they didn't." The album received minimum promotion.
But he's quick to admit the benefits of his position. "It's great to be part of this big machine," he said of Fleetwood Mac's perennial success. "And that allows me to be my own small machine."That small machine has taken most of a lifetime to sync up with the bargains necessary to be an artist of both high commercial appeal and creative self-respect, a theme "Gift of Screws" explores at length.
"Underground" finds the singer at odds with his audience, his patron and the lover he feels he has neglected for his own pursuits. He wonders if it's just best to lay low and not fight the battles at all.The explosive Phil Spector-meets-Jeff Lynne chorus of "Love Runs Deeper" speaks of the "underground" place where we hide our deepest love.
"The Right Place to Fade" (sounding more than a little like the old Mac chestnut "Second Hand News") tries to discern the right time to cut one's losses and save face.The driving rocker "Gift of Screws" declares that anything worth an ounce of investment doesn't come easily. The title cut, Buckingham said, was inspired by an Emily Dickinson poem.
"She writes about how in order to get the sweetest, most fragrant smell from the flower you must put it into the press. … I hope I'm paraphrasing it properly. You have to put in the effort to get the most of what's around you."
For Buckingham, that's a philosophy that has served him well, even if the wait sometimes seems interminable.
Published: Oct. 5, 2008
by John Duffy, Correspondent
For years, Lindsey Buckingham had the hardest time finishing solo projects. A resolute perfectionist and studio tinkerer, he would spend years crafting his elegant, eccentric pop music. Half of the time he would be delayed by label indifference or corralled into one more round with Fleetwood Mac, the group he has fronted with Stevie Nicks since 1974.
His career stretches back to 1968, when Fritz, a band he co-led with Nicks, opened for Big Brother and the Holding Company at Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco. But he's only put out five solo discs since first trying in 1982.
He left the Mac in 1987 in an effort to keep his creative energies focused on his own songs, but it was another six years before anything came of it.With the delivery of "Gift of Screws" this month, he's improved his pace to two solo albums in two years. Buckingham is touring in support of the album and will swing by Sovereign Performing Arts Center in Reading on Friday, Oct. 10.
In 2006, Buckingham released "Under the Skin," a quiet, introspective and deeply personal recording. Most of the songs were written in hotel rooms on a mobile recording unit he crates along on tour. At the time of its much-praised release, Buckingham promised a new, "more rocking" record within a year.
Many folks didn't believe it was possible, considering his track record, but here it is."I started 'Under the Skin' with deliberate ideas of what I wanted the songs to be like, or in fact not be like," he said in a telephone interview from a Nashville, Tenn., hotel room. Instead of rock songs, he came out with acoustic-drenched chamber pop with lush vocals and airy arrangements."When I got around to finishing these new songs, it just sort of happened that it turned into more of a loud, electric, lead-guitar sound."
Most of the 10 tracks on "Gift of Screws" feature the drums and driving pop hooks its predecessor avoided in favor of atmosphere and introspection. Like all Buckingham efforts, the disc was recorded entirely at his elaborate home studio. The songs themselves took a long time to find a home."Some of the tracks date all the way back to 1997 when we got back together to do the live album," Buckingham said, referring to the multiplatinum Fleetwood Mac CD/DVD "The Dance."
The solo album he was pursuing at the time got shelved, taking some songs along with it. "Then working on a solo project again in 2001, we got into what became 'Say You Will.'" The 19-track Mac album contains virtually an entire Buckingham solo record.
"Its not the first time there was that kind of an intervention," he said, laughing. After more than 30 years with the group, he's learned not to be territorial.That kind of heavy borrowing has happened a few times, and it isn't entirely unwelcome."It's sometimes difficult to have stuff sitting around for so long, you just want to get it out there just to get it off the books."
He would prefer to do so at his own pace, but band politics and label agendas can dictate otherwise. While a respected tunesmith, Buckingham's solo discs have never moved the kind of units that the Mac has, and his work has often been met with indifference by the very people at his label that he has helped make millionaires many times over.
"Under the Skin" was dismissed out of hand by Warner Bros. "They said, 'Yeah, we want to work with you, but we're not going to do anything with this,'" he recalled. "And they didn't." The album received minimum promotion.
But he's quick to admit the benefits of his position. "It's great to be part of this big machine," he said of Fleetwood Mac's perennial success. "And that allows me to be my own small machine."That small machine has taken most of a lifetime to sync up with the bargains necessary to be an artist of both high commercial appeal and creative self-respect, a theme "Gift of Screws" explores at length.
"Underground" finds the singer at odds with his audience, his patron and the lover he feels he has neglected for his own pursuits. He wonders if it's just best to lay low and not fight the battles at all.The explosive Phil Spector-meets-Jeff Lynne chorus of "Love Runs Deeper" speaks of the "underground" place where we hide our deepest love.
"The Right Place to Fade" (sounding more than a little like the old Mac chestnut "Second Hand News") tries to discern the right time to cut one's losses and save face.The driving rocker "Gift of Screws" declares that anything worth an ounce of investment doesn't come easily. The title cut, Buckingham said, was inspired by an Emily Dickinson poem.
"She writes about how in order to get the sweetest, most fragrant smell from the flower you must put it into the press. … I hope I'm paraphrasing it properly. You have to put in the effort to get the most of what's around you."
For Buckingham, that's a philosophy that has served him well, even if the wait sometimes seems interminable.
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