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NME August 31, 1974 Crosby, Stills, Nash, Young and Bert Roy Carr A FEW WEEKS ago the innumerable record stores that fringe New York’s Times Square were having great difficulty in shifting their stock of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young solo albums, even at the all-time low cheap giveaway price of $1.98. This week, with the aforementioned C.S.N and Y. doing three gigs in town, not only have these stores hiked the price back up to around four bucks, but they’ve also mobilised extra copies just to keep pace with demand. Meanwhile, just a couple of blocks across town, Atlantic Records reckon that the new CSN&Y compilation of Woodstockian oldies should strike gold (even platinum) within days of being shipped. Despite the recent fluctuations in their respective solo careers, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young are a hotter property today than they’ve ever been. Discounting a spot of box office anemia that caused the postponement of their gig at California’s Ontario Motor Speedway, a rough estimate suggests that by the time the lads hit London (on September 14), they will have performed before one-and-a-half-million concert goers and grossed somewhere in the region of 11 million of the green and crinkly. And as yet there’s no telling just how much they’ll pick up by way of a bonus on reactivated record sales. In other words, they’re filthy with it. FOR ALL their faults, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young are the closest to a Beatle type phenomenon that America ever produced. And that’s taking into account the Monkees. So when, in 1970, they made public the fact that they could no longer tolerate one another, they left a void which no act has proved capable of filling. Though Neil Young remained prolific (for a time), – with Stills not too far behind – on their own the individuals weren’t able to generate the same kind of excitement as the basic four-piece unit. Therefore the news of CSNY’s re-incarntion – in the wake of the recent resuscitation of the original Byrds, the Andrew Sisters, Dylan, Clapton and John, Paul, George, Ringo and Bert – marked the zenith of the current fixation with nostalgia; which, in itself, is an indictment of rock’s stagnation but a real incentive for The Dave Clark Five to polish the rust off their Vox amps. The whole shebang was vividly summed up in one brief moment when, during CSN&Y’s appearance at Nassau Coliseum out on Long Island, Neil Young loped up to the microphone and casually enquired "Would you like to hear a new song or an old song?" – to be greeted with the unanimous bellow of "An old song".
CSNY ticket from Nassau Coliseum 08/14/74 (Croz' birthday!) Young then strummed his way gently into the opening bars of "Don’t Be Denied", proving that you don’t have to serve 15 years on the car-wash to qualify for the comeback trail.
"The kids," says Roberts, "can identify with the early songs and that particular period in their life that they shared along with Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Now that the Nixon regime has come to a halt and things are more or less out in the open, American youth feel that they’ve come to the end of a very traumatic era. "All the riots, picketing, sit-ins and student demonstrations now appear to have had some positive effect, and songs like Ohio’ and ‘Chicago’– which, at the time we all thought were just hollow voices in the wind - now take on even more meaning than before". Over the microphones CSN&Y harmonise: "Tin soldiers and Nixon
Coming, We’re Finally On Our Own" – and in response over 18,000
kids jump to their feet to utter an almighty roar. LUGGING a road-crew of somewhere between 60 and 80, the CSN&Y junket moves from gig to gig like a highly sophisticated military operation. But even five-star Generals can make mistakes. For instance, on the way to Nassau Coliseum, our motorcade came to an abrupt halt right in the middle of the 59th Street Bridge, when Neil Young’s GMC Camper – which he is using as both home and transportation for the entire tour – suddenly ran out of fuel. This mishap held up the nose-to-bumper rush hour traffic in a humid temperature not far short of 90 degrees. Feelin’ Groovey anyone? The day before, it was a flat tire. THE STORY is that Crosby, Stills and. Nash, and later Young (though, John Sebastian was on the short list) first pooled their creative resources way back in ‘69 because as individuals they were sick of having to continually compromise themselves with the immature whims of workmates with over-inflated egos. Though the collaboration looked like the epitome of the new Hippy
Utopia, Crosby, Still, Nash, Young, (Greg) Reeves and (Dallas)
Taylor did hint that the thing was in noway binding, but at that
time everyone was either too stoned or too involved in being part
of the Woodstock generation to notice this smallprint get-out
clause – that is, until they actually took up the option to go
it alone. I take Nash to task over the fact. Howcum that in 1970 they stood on stage and sang "We can save the world" – yet couldn’t save themselves from fragmenting in a rather embarrassing manner. Nash, however adamantly denies that CSN&Y ever "officially" disbanded. He explains: "All those people who say that we broke up are just a bunch of stupid assholes. All that actually happened was we didn’t record together as a unit… though if you care to check it out, we all appeared on each other’s solo projects and also showed up at each other’s concerts to help out. Anyway, we’ve all grown up a lot since those days, we’re more aware of what’s going on in each other’s heads". Nash reconsiders the implications for a moment then gabbles. "Fifteen
minutes from now it might all end up in a furious fist fight,
but somehow I really don’t think it will. Nash set off in search of his shirt and halts en route to speak to, Neil Young. "Hey man", he blurts in best Mancalifornian accent, "this is what this band’s really all about. We’re due on stage in about 20 minutes and suddenly Neil’s decided to do ‘Southern Man’ in the show." As if on cue (ten points to the roadies), acoustic guitars magically appear in the hands of Stills and Nash, and, with Crosby in tow, they gather around Young – who perched on a high stool inches from the bar – and quickly run through the number a couple of times. On the subject of Young… A lot of folk in Britain find it hard to believe that the rather wasted and dishevelled person on his last solo tour was in fact Neil Young – favouring a theory that this was an incoherent imposter out to ruin the talented Canadian’s reputation. Watching the "real" Neil cruisin’ backstage, laughing and joking; it’s impossible to believe that this cheerful chappie is the very same who drove both ardent admirers and critics to the brink of tears and despair. Neil Young doesn’t give interviews but it’s not a prima donna attitude; just that in his own words, "I’ve really got nothin’ to say." On those rare occasions he has broken his rule he says he’s never been able to relate to what appeared in print - it always ‘reads like someone else instead of me." Strangely enough, however, Young is obviously intrigued (and maybe
envious?) as he watches the way Crosby and Nash sit around chewing
the fat with the gentlemen of the press. And reminiscent of a
panhandler outside a stage-door, he slowly approaches our table.
"Hi," he intones -with nasal clarity. He’s decked out in a white
Buick service station windbreaker, neatly patched blue cords and
hides behind a newly-cultivated beard and silver-lensed aviator
shades. For extra protection, he sports a straw pork-pie hat.
"Hi, Neil" "Actually, I only showed up tonight ‘cause I’m looking for girls,"
he jokes as he sets his sights on the hot buffet: "Hey somebody’s
been sleazin’ on the food!" On stage, everyone seems hyper-protective when it comes to performing
one of Neil’s songs. "Not only are we protective towards Neil," Crosby explains to me, "and show our deep concern when he’s performing one of his songs, but we also show this very same attitude towards each other. "We’re not just hanging around waiting for our own solo spots,
To tell you the truth," he continues, "we’re all knocked out,
by the way everyone is trying so hard on everyone’s material."
Back to Young, and Crosby says: "I know for a fact that Neil's real happy up there on stage. Some nights he’s jumping around all over the place. If the music’s getting him off like that, then that’s just great – because Neil’s quite a shy person. You’ve got to know how to bring him out of his shell." Any fears that Neil Young might be a spent force were banished later that evening. During a workout of a new Young song, "Pushed It Over The End" both Crosby and Nash quickly cleared the decks to allow Stills – brandishing a Gibson Firebird – to demonstrate that he can be a bitch of a guitar player. Then Young squared up to him with a Gretsch White Falcon to trade guitar chores. Things got so intense that Young tucked his axe tightly into his frail frame, hunched his body and began revving up his right leg – like at any moment he was going to execute a Chuck Berry duck-walk. "It’s not as though they’re playing," Crosby theorises. "It s more like they’re having a conversation. I mean like it’s been four years since they last held a conversation like that and they’ve a helluvah lot to say to one another." Stills hears that last remark, smiles and affirms. One thing does seem very certain; Crosby, Stills and Nash are going out of their way to make certain that Young doesn’t again experience what’s best described as his recent artistic and personal nadir. On the subject of Neil Young’s highly controversial last solo
tour, Crosby reflects: "Well, to begin with, I wasn’t there to
see it so I really don’t know precisely what happened." "But I do know that Neil was upset and, I guess, disillusioned
lot of people who love him. When an audience comes out of a show,
they’re usually laughing and talking, but as I hear it, there
was this deathly silence when Neil’s shows emptied out. Apparently,
people were in a state of complete shock - they just didn’t believe
what they’d seen or heard. They’d been hurt and it showed." "Tonight’s The Night" with Crazy Horse in attendance was, in Elliot Roberts’ words "a drunken rock ‘n’ roll album," and remains unreleased. The next, "Human Highway" apparently didn’t measure up to Young’s personal expectations and was abandoned in favour of "On The Beach" which has divided listeners into two opposing factions over its merits. And the grapevine intimates that songs from "Human Highway" will be included on a forthcoming Young solo show case. PREVIOUS ATTEMPTS by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young at a reconciliation seem to have fallen down because their desire to sate personal appetites was totally out-of-balance with any need for intelligent co-operation. A reunion in 1971 was thwarted, as was another in 1973. But the time they’d satisfied their hunger with various solo projects they were about as near as they’d ever be to sharing the same stage together for more than just one impromtu evening. Emotionally, they all felt that they could relax a little in each others company without things degenerating into a bar-room brawl. Crosby and Nash, however, had remained bosom pals through thick and thin: "We’re the best friends we have in the whole world", they say of each other. It was really just a matter of tempering the love/hate relationship that had afflicted Stills and Young ever since their Buffalo Springfield days. That was eventually surmounted, as was a feud that cropped up between Stills and Nash over a bit of skirt. And Crosby . . . oh, he just kept grinning like the amiable hippy he is as he sailed his wooden ship around the Pacific Ocean. Today the four are tolerant of each other’s quests for individuality, freedom of expression and other quirks. Hassles and shoutups appear to have become almost non-existent, and ego-tripping a thing of the past. Perhaps the fact that both Stills and Young have become the fathers (of boys) has given them a mutual interest and sense of maturity. At first all are reticent about the problems that prevented them
from re-grouping much earlier. Crosby and Nash admit that in part
all four - were to blame, but say they’ve grown up since 1969.
"Look" says Nash, "you saw the show last night and you’ve been
hangin’ around with us backstage. I ask you, have you felt anything
remotely resembling bad vibes man...well, have you?" "And you: won’t" adds Crosby. "You want to know why?" "Well, it’s simply because of this new found maturity. All four of us are eager to give the others more room to do what ‘they do best without being shouted down." "He’s right", Nash continues, "and that’s something that you just can’t bloody well fake. If we did, and mind I’m only saying it; the kids would have us sussed out. "We’ve learned a helluvah lot from this tour like being more considerate towards each other because we’re all secure in who we really are as individuals. The head space is now evenly balanced." The way David Crosby tells it, the eventual re-grouping takes
on a storyline from an Archie comic - with the participants playing
the roles of Archie, Betty, Jughead and Veronica. "Basically", Crosby begins, "It was like this. I decided to take my boat (The Mayan) to Lahania on Maui (one of the Hawaiian Islands) for some diving and Graham decided to come-along because he thought it could be a lotta fun.(it was). "When Stephen heard; he thought, ‘Why should they have all the fun?’ and so he came out to join us. "Then, when Neil heard, and he thought ‘So why should all those have a good time?’ and so as not to miss out he joined us. Before we knew it we were all hanging out on my boat, diving, really getting healthy and having a swell time. "After a while the guitars came out and we found ourselves playing and singing each other’s SONGS. And that’s where it began to take off". The scene then quickly shifted to Neil Young’s secluded ranch
at La Honda, San Francisco. But despite the fact that they laid
down six new songs – two of which, "Prison Song"and "And So It
Goes", appear on Nash’s "Wild Tales" collection – a re-union was
temporarily shelved. Stills is once said to have joked that the first time CSN&Y hit the road it was for the music; the second for the chicks and this time for the greenbacks. A joke . . .but it’s interesting to note that over the last year or so their individual record sales have drastically dipped to the point where– in Stills’ case – he sells less than half his usual number. Young can only nudge the half-million mark, whereas his "After The Gold Rush" and "Harvest" accounted for approximately two million copies per album. Now it has been announced that this tour will gross around 11 million dollars. And the statement appears to haunt the band wherever they go. ‘Personally", says Nash, "I don’t care if my solo albums only
sell a dozen copies I just want to make my music. It’s not what’s
on the chart but what’s in your heart that counts" he pauses mid-sentence
"‘ere, someone..quick a pen..that rhymes", he jokes. On stage, however, neither Nash or his compadres seem at all affected. On numbers like "Love The One You’re With" and "Pre-Road Downs" they’re as tight as a fnurg’s klitsch at 20,000 fathoms, while the vocal harmonies on "Wooden Ships" and "Ohio" are as rich and close as the consecutive serial sets of Happy Families. The intro to each song is greeted with audience jubilation most
noticeably when Crosby performs "Almost Cut My ‘Hair" and "Deja
Vu"; Stills, "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes"; Nash, "Our House"’ and "Teach
Your Children": and everything that Young turns his skilled hands
to though "Helpless, Helpless" and "Ambulance Blues", whined in
his best broken banjo string voice, won by a head. Crosby mumbles; "Some nights, we can hardly stand up when we come off stage because we’re so exhausted". Back to Nash. "Now, if we were only’ doing it for the money we’d have toured long before this. But like I said, it didn’t feel right until now. "Listen man, nobody forces the kids to come to our shows but there they are in thousands each night we play". "The thing that really impresses me", Crosby gleefully confesses, "is that they’re a real straight, healthy bunch. No downer freaks or weird heavy dopers in the audience. "We don’t want that element at our shows. "I must tell you this", he enthuses. "The other night we played a gig and it rained all day and the kids just stood out in that rain and waited for us. Nobody left. By the time we came on they were soaked to the skin but they stayed for another four hours and sang along on all the songs. "Man, that really moved me. I almost cried". Suddenly Neil Young, guitar in hand, wanders over . Young sits down and begins previewing some songs he's been putting
together while on the road. "Alright". And Nash reaches for another guitar. Stills makes it
a foursome. "That’s great", remarks Nash, "and whenever you feel like doing it on stage that’s O.K. with me". Young smiles back shyly and offers, "This is another new, one. I really haven’t finished it yet . . . I’ll play you what I’ve got". This song’s hook-line of "I feel like a-train carrying a heavy
load behind me" prompts Nash to work out an off-the-cuff harmony.
It’s right first time. Both singers grin at each other. "There’s a few other songs I wanna do from the old days", says Young, but before he gets side-tracked Crosby intervenes with some almost fatherly advice. "Hey Neil, don’t play any dark shit numbers, you’ve got so many good numbers to choose from Just play those things you really want to play and don’t waste your energies on other things". Neil looks up and starts laughing. "O.K. then". As quickly as they’d gathered together around the table they disperse. After about five minutes, Nash turns to Roberts and enquires. "Hey, where did the rest of the guys go?" "Oh, didn’t I tell you Roberts begins, "they’re on stage rehearsing
with Garfunkel". |
