Showing posts with label Stephen Stills. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stephen Stills. Show all posts

Sunday, December 15, 2019

Still Stills - The Best of Stephen Stills (1976)

As a solo artist, Stephen Stills was the most prolific member of Crosby, Stills and Nash in the seventies, having produced four albums, including the two Manassas LPs - the first of which was a double set - between 1970 and 1973.  Atlantic Records didn't do much to promote Stills' solo projects, though, which makes its decision to put out a greatest-hits compilation of such work in 1976 somewhat ironic.
Ironic, and opportunistic - Still Stills was issued while Steve was pursuing his solo career at Columbia, having gotten fed up with Atlantic's disinterest in his solo efforts.  (He had also been involved with Neil Young in the recording of their namesake band's only album, Long May You Run, released on Reprise.)  In that sense, Still Stills was pure product - released just in time for the 1976 Christmas market - meant to cash in on Stills' reputation.  But the selection of material demonstrates the value in his reputation; there are a lot of strong tracks here that demonstrate his abilities as a guitarist, a singer and a songwriter.
Of course, "Love the One You're With," his cheeky ode to hippie ecstasy, opens the record, and his other hit single, the charming country waltz "Change Partners," strategically kicks off side two, but the rest of Still Stills emphasizes more diverse aspects of his talent.  The selections here range from the Buffalo Springfield pastiche "It Doesn't Matter" from the first Manassas album and the deeply spiritual gospel-tinged "We Are Not Helpless" from his 1970 solo debut to the tougher blues and rock of "Go Back Home," his guitar duet with Eric Clapton, and the tight rock of "Sit Yourself Down" (both from the 1970 LP).  And while I wouldn't have represented the inferior second Manassas LP with "Isn't It About Time" - here only because it was a single - it's still indicative of the energy that Stills has always put into his heavier songs.  Atlantic also threw in a few curves by including the lighthearted "Marianne" (from his 1971 solo release Stephen Stills 2) and also Mike Brewer and Tom Mastin's composition "Bound To Fall" (from the 1972 Manassas release), with its quick, biting acoustic arrangement.  Also, Crosby, Stills and Nash fans will find the Manassas country shuffle "Johnny's Garden" and that band's freewheeling single "Rock and Roll Crazies / Cuban Bluegrass" to be familiar territory, both of them songs from a musician known to explore different musical landscapes and determined to exceed his own expectations.
The punning title is appropriate.  Still Stills is a portrait of an artist whose music remains consistent even as it moves across different pop genres; many of the songs from the two Columbia albums Stills had already put out at the time of this album's release would have fit in well here and made a more well-rounded retrospective.  But, as greatest-hits packages go, this is nonetheless a solid, tight overview.  Out of print for decades, it makes a good Christmas present for the rare-record collector in your life who wants to dig a little deeper into the less remembered side of a rock icon's work.  (Though, if you prefer to buy the CSN fan on your gift list one studio LP from Stills' seventies albums outside the group, spring for the first Manassas album; it's not only his best such effort, it's also available on compact disc.)     

Thursday, June 27, 2019

Crosby Versus Nash

In the realm of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, David Crosby and Graham Nash were often thought to be the George and Ringo of the quartet, but not only have they come up with tremendous songs in their work with Stephen Stills and/or Neil Young, they proved to be impressive as a duo.  Whenever internecine arguments caused the group to put their act on ice, Crosby and Nash would still work together, and they managed to come up with a sharp single such as 1972's "Immigration Man" and two fine albums from the mid-seventies - 1975's intense Wind On the Water and 1976's pensive and underrated Whistling Down the Wire.  Some of the work they did together was on par with their CSNY contributions and often superior to a good deal of Stephen Stills' solo work.
So it's really depressing to, in the wake of the fiftieth anniversary of the release of the first Crosby, Stills and Nash album, to find Crosby and Nash on the outs . . . and possibly for good.
The feud between Crosby and Nash (above, in 1976) dates back to the 2013 release of Nash's memoir "Wild Tales," in which Nash came down hard on Crosby for his drug use and how it affected the group, which famously recorded so infrequently that CSN and CSNY projects were always thought to be reunions.  Although Crosby had told Nash to go ahead and be honest about all of the anguish he caused him and Stills and Young, he was reported to have issues with how Nash characterized him in the book, saying that most of what Nash wrote was a pack of lies.
"Graham’s book is full of inaccuracies and chock-full of misinformation," Crosby told the Web site Ultimate Classic Rock. "When he handed [an advance copy] to me, he said, 'It’s too late to change anything, but here it is.' I was very unhappy about it. It’s a very shallow, very self-serving book, and full of BS."
As if that weren't bad enough, Crosby only made things worse with some nasty comments about actress Daryl Hannah when she started dating Neil Young.  (They wed in 2018.)  Crosby accused Hannah of being a predator in a 2014 interview, suggesting she was some sort of gold digger. Though he apologized to Young - "That was judgmental and stupid and careless and I regret it a lot," Crosby said, adding that Hannah was making Young happy and he wanted to see Young happy - Young has been cool to Crosby ever since, and Nash won't forgive Crosby for that slight.
Nash says there will never be another CSNY record or show again, and Young wholeheartedly agrees.  As for Stills, who has nothing to do with any of this, he is reportedly ticked off at Crosby as well.
I'm not going to defend Crosby for anything he's done. Everyone knows he's a jerk, even his best friends, and the other three have every right to be mad at him.  And truth be told, nothing Crosby has ever said or done has surprised or shocked me. When he turned out to be the sperm donor who produced a baby for Melissa Etheridge and her partner Julie Cypher, my jaw didn't drop because I was too busy laughing.  But I'm still sad over this.  I still hope that, even if Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young never record or perform again, they will still bury all of their hatchets.  As for Crosby, he ought to be damn grateful that Nash pulled him out of his many quagmires over the course of fifty years.
"I trusted my instincts with David," Nash said of his partner in 1991 about Crosby's near-fatal drug addiction.  "I felt he could bounce back, because I still believe that his problems are of self-image rather than anything else.  So he came back and I was there to love him and support him.  Because I think he's worth it."
Come on, Cros, remember everything you and Graham have been through, and how he helped you out.  Because he believed in you.  Don't let your own arrogance bust up for good a friendship that has lasted longer than many marriages.  You're both in your seventies, as are Stills and Young.  It would be a shame if any of you - but especially you and Nash - went to your graves without ever talking to each other again.         

Sunday, April 8, 2012

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!)