Stephen Stills/Manassas (1972)

(This review, which originally appeared in July 2003, has been reposted to mark the fortieth anniversary this month [April 2012] of the release of the first album from the would-be supergroup founded by Stephen Stills and Chris Hillman - Manassas.)

The average Crosby, Stills and Nash fan - alright, that would be me - will often insist that the trio could have recorded a formidable catalog in the seventies if they had spent that decade making music instead of bickering. Furthermore, you will be told, CSN could have recorded the greatest album of their collaboration (and one of the greatest albums of all time) in 1972, because they had produced their strongest batch of songs that year and would have tried even harder in writing and performing their music in a group dynamic. As with Beach Boys fans who go on and on about what a great album Smile would have been if Brian Wilson hadn't given up on it, CSN fans fail to grasp how this theory is based more on wishful, wistful thinking than hard evidence. True, Crosby, Stills and Nash did come up with some interesting work in the early seventies in their various extracurricular projects, but there's no indication that the parts would have added up to a much greater whole.

In fact, what did get out in 1972 suggests that a CSN album recorded that year might not necessarily have been a masterpiece. David Crosby and Graham Nash issued their first album as a duo in April 1972, but while it did have Nash's lovely ballad "Southbound Train" and Crosby's pensive "Page 43," much of the rest of the album is mere filler. Stephen Stills, meanwhile, proved to be a little more ambitious; he teamed up with former Byrds bassist Chris Hillman and formed the group Manassas, featuring themselves and a cast of crackerjack session musicians that included bassist Fuzzy Samuels, drummer Dallas Taylor, and pedal steel player Al Perkins. Their self-titled double album, which came out the same month as the Crosby-Nash album, turned out far better; it may not be the crowning achievement of either Stills's or Hillman's respective careers, but it's pretty damn close.

Manassas is Stills and Hillman's quest for musical authenticity, a sprawling and enticing album that aimed to be a crucible for every conceivable pop form that has dominated or influenced American culture. It works astonishingly well, thanks to Stills's straightforward production and Hillman's desire to be challenged by some of the best session players in rock. The album is structured in four distinct parts, one part per side, in which Manassas starts out with freewheeling rock with Latin and jazz tinges ( titled "The Raven") a straight country side (titled, appropriately enough, "The Wilderness"), a sampling of more pensive songs (called "Consider"), and a heavy blues-based rock side whose title represents the commitment Stills and Hillman have for this music - "Rock and Roll Is Here To Stay." Some of the sides don't cohere as well as the others, but the experimentation produces some highly quirky hybrids; "Rock and Roll Crazies / Cuban Bluegrass" is just that, and more.

It's all good and fine to think that some of this music could have been part of a better CSN album, but here Stills gives himself far more freedom to take chances than he would with his occasional bandmates. There are some gorgeous acoustically based numbers from "The Wilderness" with nice harmonies, like "Colorado" and "So Begins the Task," and the light shuffle "Johnny's Garden" might be one of the best songs Stills has ever written.  Sharp satire like "Fallen Eagle" (about anti-environmentalist attitudes in the American West) and pure honky-tonk fare like "Don't Look At My Shadow," however, might not have fit as well on a CSN disc. Crosby, Stills and Nash fans must have been shocked back in 1972 to hear one of their idols lead a heavy, intense eight-minute rock jam, "The Treasure (Take One)", and going back to the old Buffalo Springfield sound with Hillman on "It Doesn't Matter" was more of a step backward, albeit a good one. Quite frankly, neither Stills nor Hillman can be bothered with meeting expectations; they're too busy trying to exceed them. Because Manassas was a loose, temporary arrangement, though - sixties LA rock veterans like Stills and Hillman have been notorious for changing bandmates faster than folks switching partners at a speed-dating party - the best the pair could do was make a solid, pleasurably decent album, not a masterpiece in the pantheon of Music From Big Pink.

They did make it pleasurable, and even though a Crosby, Stills and Nash album from this time would have been nice, maybe we CSN fans should stop fantasizing about what could have been and just enjoy what we have, for once. Listen to Manassas often enough, and you'll appreciate what we have so, so much more.

(Note - Since this review was first written, Brian Wilson completed Smile as a solo album. Brian Wilson fans who insisted it would have been one of the greatest albums of all time have since heard it and now say it's . . . one of the greatest albums of all time!)