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David Crosby “Sky Trails” (2017)
She’s Got To Be Somewhere/Sky
Trails/Sell Me A Diamond/Before Tomorrow Falls On Love/Here It’s Almost
Love/Capitol/ Amelia/Somebody Home/Curved Air/Home Free
‘Where
is that brave new world we used to talk about and smile?’
Croz is back with his first new album for…eleven
months. Eleven months?! I remember the days when it took eleven years between
records, so it seems safe to say that Croz is on something on a creative role
in old age. Never one to do things the ‘normal’ way round, he seems to be
writing with the prolificness and passion of youth these days, with three
albums in five years now putting all of his peers (except, obviously, Neil
Young) to shame. But is being so prolific a good thing? I was looking forward
to this album it sounded more like ‘my’ Croz than last year’s ‘Lighthouse’. A
bigger band sound, less guest stars and songs co-written with David’s talented
son James Raymond. Titbits handed to us from Croz’s twitter-feed sounded
extraordinary: this was a set of songs that came out of nowhere, recorded for
the most part before the paint had dried on the old ones with Croz working with
some of his favourite people. Croz still sounds better than he has in decades,
his gorgeous voice shining out above everything else here and he still has an
ear for beauty and an eye for how ugly the world can be sometimes. That part of
our old Croz is still very much intact and maybe even growing in stature as the
years go by and the world gets worse and needs heroes like Croz to try to put
things right. But if ‘Lighthouse’ had a problem it was that it all sounded the
same as each other, whilst sounding nothing like anything Croz had ever quite
given us before: slow, still, quiet meditative acoustic ballads that was closer
to new age than anything else in the CSNY catalogue. This album has a similar
problem in that it’s an album that sounds much the same as each other but
sounds like nothing else Croz has ever given us before, making it hard to sink
your musical teeth into.
What does it sound like? Well, in a way it’s the
album many people were expecting Croz to give us in the 1980s before drugs
stole his creativity away. Recorded with funky drumming, blarey horns and a
very retro synth sound, it sounds like it could have been released in the
mid-1980s with nobody batting an eyelid. It’s the Crosby equivalent of Stills’
‘Right By You’ and Nash’s ‘Innocent Eyes’, a largely noisy record of sounds
whizzing past your ear while sounding slicker than Grace Slick’s Starship on
top of an oil slick. In short, it sounds not unlike Croz’s beloved 1980s band
Steely Dan. In years to come this record will probably go down as a ‘tribute’
to deceased Steely Dan singer Walter Becker, who in one of those cosmic
coincidences that seem to happen a lot on this site died the week before Croz
released this record. We know, though, that Croz has had these songs ready to
go for a year and these recordings all but finished for months now so a tribute
seems unlikely. Even so, that’s what this record is: Croz the professional,
with songs that everyone can identify with, set to a rigid time structure.
Everything sounds as if it’s been squeezed into shape, with Croz’s jazzy
stylings re-set into a backing that makes him sound more palatable and
mainstream. In a sense this record is a ‘pair’ with ‘Lighthouse’, a largely
acoustic raw album that saw Crosby doing the sort of things no other artist
would dare do in free-form. Croz has never divided himself up this way before
(this is more the sort of thing Neil would do) and it doesn’t always work.
There’s a single great record in there between the two recent efforts, but
‘Lighthouse’ was the kind of record only a fan could love – and ‘Sky Trails’
feels a little bit too much like an album only the general public not used to
how brilliantly unique Crosby can be. Occasionally that new sophisticated
groove works: I rather like ‘Here It’s Almost Sunset’ which is so Croz-like and
so un-Croz-like all at the same time, with its saxophone groove and frog-like
synths where Croz is a city boy now, no longer meditating in a field. The
album’s lone acoustic song, the title track, also really stands out as a stray
raw diamond in a field of designer pearls. For the most part, though, this is
Crosby’s most impersonal record (at least since his ‘covers’ set ‘A Thousand
Roads’) and it feels as if we’re a bit removed from him for the most part.
I ought to like the sound of this record though as
it’s what I was asking for across the last two CDs, the mainstream poppy ‘Croz’
and the new agey ‘Lighthouse’ and on paper it should be easily the best of the
three. One of the best things Croz ever did was CPR, his band with guitarist
Jeff Pevar and keyboardist son James Raymond. Both are back for this record
(the first time for Jeff since 2001) and James even produced the record. That
jazzy musical setting combined with personal lyrics theorising about all of
life’s darker hues is exactly what I’ve longed for and this band is a talented
one made up of many old faces. Even Becca Stevens, one of the weaker links on
‘Lighthouse’, has suddenly found out how to meld her voice with Croz’s and the
results are fabulous on the title track. Croz always sounds great singing from
the heart using big fat jazz chords and even returns to the writer who inspired
him to this in the first place, Joni Mitchell, with a sweet cover of her song
‘Amelia’ (from her jazziest album ‘Hejira’ in 1976). But something sounds
slightly lost: there’s no swing to this album’s jazz, no sense of
experimentation, no sense of space, no sense of personality as most songs tend
to come with the same intense bass-drum-synth feel to them. Instead this is
very much the Steely Dan school of making music: write monotonous songs about
an ever-changing world that sound rigid and unfeeling even when it’s all about
being fragile and broken. The effect is seeing an old friend you know really
well and who always told you the truth in their scruffy clothes dressed up in a
tuxedo for a cocktail party – fun at first, frustrating when you want to chat
deeply and personally and find they don’t have time to talk to you anymore
because they’re schmoozing the young guys over there who still might actually
buy records these days. You know why your friend has to do it, but you don’t
like it all the same. Surely everyone would like your friend more if they were
just themself? That’s the person you loved after all and it’s a bit late for
them to change.
As with last year’s review, the parts of this record
that work best are the ones that deal with the outside world. With this the
first CSNY-related album released since Trump’s rise to power (as opposed to a
few pot-shots taken during his campaigning) Croz feels more desperate and
disillusioned than ever here. Time and time again across these lyrics he
despairs not so much for the present but the steel iron door that’s now been
bolted on the past: an idealist into his seventies, he still believed that the
American hippie dream might happen, but not now with the greedy people firmly
back in charge. Was it only nine years ago CSNY were playing happily at Obama’s
inauguration? Now the band are in disarray and the country is worse, with Croz
spending even more time than normal attacking the greedy powers-that-be on
‘Capitol’ (a re-write of ‘Night-time For The Generals’) and ‘Before Tomorrow
Falls On Love’, a song that’s much more about Crosby’s baby boomer generation
falling out of love with their lot in love than it is with his own love life (only
‘Somebody Home’ appears to be a love song for Jan – and then it’s a bit of a weird
one at that). If ‘Lighthouse’ was a record of hope, where light still spread
out from a beacon and tried to heal the world through meditation and deep
thought and common sense, ‘Skytrails’ is an album where the world’s turned
another stage into the darkness and left Croz worried for the future.
In a way though this album is Crosby’s response to
Nash’s ‘Earth and Sky’ forty years on, split between the lure of the ‘sky’ (and
unlimited horizons) and the safety of ‘home’. Notably another theme of this album
is ‘home’, something that crops up in the title of two of the songs and the
thoughts of many of the other lyrics. Croz has been a busy boy lately, touring
more than ever with short bursts here and there as he struggles to pay the
bills decades after all his money went on unpaid back taxes and a drug habit
that makes Pete Doherty and Keith Richards look like amateurs. He’s spent far
too many nights away from home, but it’s a home he wouldn’t have at all if he
wasn’t out on the road all the hours he can and that dichotomy sounds as if
it’s a major part of this album’s ‘feel’ too. We start with a character whose
‘lost’ and needs grounding (is it a return of Drew Barymore, my guess as the
inspiration for ‘Lighthouse’s best song ‘The City’?), as she (and Crosby,
sensing something of himself in her) sets off to see what life has to throw at
her under the big empty sky of the city. Croz knows, though, that he only found
his own personal salvation in a place he can call home and it shines out like a
beacon across this record: a place to be yourself (even if, ironically, it’s
accompanied by a backing that’s best described as anonymous). The best thing
about this album is that it starts ‘far away’ from us and gradually grows
closer as each track goes by: The character in that opening track is lost and
searching. The narrator of the second, title track is in exile, wondering why
‘I was so careless with your heart’ and trying to move closer to home. ‘Sell Me
A Diamond’ despairs over the music business and ‘Before Tomorrow Falls On Love’
despairs over the loss of hippie ideals. ‘Here It’s Almost Sunset’ despair over
anything ever going right again, but loves the thought of suddenly being more
creative in old age and having ideas shining brighter while everything else grows
‘darker’. ‘Capitol’ takes more pot-shots at greedy leaders but hopes to
overthrow them one day. Joni’s ‘Amelia’ is about being lost and distracted by
the wrong symbols in the sky when you should be turning home not looking for
‘false alarms’ of better futures. ‘Somebody Home’ is the joy of calling home
when you’re away and on the road, the joy of knowing that your old life
continues without you in absence. ‘Curved Air’ is a weird song celebrating
being different that sounds like the most mainstream pop Croz has ever made,
the sound of a one-off desperate for ‘solid ground’ to ‘earth’ him so he
doesn’t fly away. And finally we end on ‘Home Free’, a track that finds the
path between these two opposites. Only by being safe and protected by loved
ones at home is Croz’s inspiration truly free to fly and it’s something he’s
been looking for his whole life.
Safety used to come from being dangerous and
different, but now it comes from being ‘normal’. That’s been the truly big
division between CSNY in recent years, as the traditionally family-loving Nash
and grounded Young both abandon their families of thirty years for younger
women and the former hell-raisers Crosby and Stills settle down and enjoy the
stability they never really had in their youth. Crosby, especially, has never
enjoyed such security and the antics of Nash and Young seem crazy to him, just
as his wayward days once seemed to them in younger life. Much of this album and
‘Lighthouse’ seem designed as a ‘message’ to his colleagues about the joys of family
life and having someone whose loved you for decades and who has shared their
life with you, good times and bad. Nash’s ‘This Path Tonight’ was about the
sky, the sheer joy of the unknown and daring yourself instead of settling into
a rut, be it lover or band. Nash’s ‘Beneath The Waves’ was about letting the
good ship CSNY sink, no longer willing to put in the effort to keep it afloat
and he saved most of his anger for Crosby, citing his rude emails in the wake
of Nash’s autobiography ‘Wild Tales’ as the moment the quartet went sour.
Crosby responds, so it seems, with ‘Sky Trails’ title track: a sweet olive
branch of friendship, regretting hurting an old friend and wishing he could
take back some of the ways he hurt him. And yet the sentiments behind them
stand true: Croz knows better than anyone how it feels to stand in front of a
window staring out at a blue sky and wondering how great the world outside his
door can be. But he was wrong everytime he did it – the only real sanctity is
home and ‘the dream fades’ the further you get from home as you stop wishing
and start living. ‘You’re the one who feels like home to me’ Crosby sighs to
his old musical partner, kicking himself for ‘being careless with your heart’
and writing a letter that never gets sent as he doesn’t know where his friend
lives anymore now Nash has set off for a new life. It’s a sweet moment and the
song from this album that will perhaps last the longest, extending the CSNY
story-in-song by another track.
By and large, though, ‘Sky Trails’ feels too flimsy
to last alongside the very best of Crosby’s work. The problem lies not with the
songs as such – lyricwise this is by far the best of the trio of recent Croz
works, sympathetic and thoughtful but in a much deeper way than the sometimes fake
feel of the last two. Both the title track and ‘Here It’s Almost Sunset’ can
sit alongside Lighthouse’s ‘The Things We Do For Love’ as evidence that Croz
still has the power to move in a big way when the performances match the ideas.
But Croz still struggles to write the melodies he used to in his youth, with
too many of these songs sounding forgettable compared to the genius of yore.
Worst still, the production of this album leaves a good half of it sounding
unlistenable, a mess of pop, jazz and whatever the hell counts for modern music
these days (a genre all on its own and so bad nobody’s given it a name yet:
‘anonyrock’ is what I call it, anonymous and forgettable in the extreme). Croz
can do many things with his talent: epic choral pieces, stinging rock and roll,
cautionary protest songs, beautiful ballads, self-deprecating humour and those
special ‘what the hell is going on?!?’ poetic songs that only Croz can write.
One thing he can’t do is sound like everybody else – and alas that’s exactly
what he’s done here, with just a few passing hues of Crosby colour just to
tease us with how good he can sound. Is this transaction the key to letting go?
Sadly not, for the most part, as Crosby returns to many of the people who
helped make his songs special in the past – and then tries to do something new
that doesn’t really work. Far from trailblazing, this is alas Croz at his most
ordinary and rather than the sky being the limit it’s another of those recent
CSNY albums that’s too timid to do anything approaching what the band used to
do without thinking. Still, that title track especially reveals how beautiful,
pioneering and clever Croz can be at his best, so here’s hoping that the next
album in the sequence has the hope of being the greatest of the lot.
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Let’s start our review of ‘She’s Got To Be
Somewhere’ with the biggest talking point: a two-minute fade-out featuring
horns, saxophones, a heavy drumbeat and cheery feel-good pop music. While the
rest of the song is more Crosby-friendly, mainly thanks to those harmonies,
this section comes as a shock. The most ‘Steely Dan’ moment of Croz’s most
‘Steely Dan’ record yet, it seems completely at odds with everything else
Crosby has ever given us before – a tightened version of the free-flowing jazz
that we’re used to hearing. There’s even a robotic vocoder voice intoning
‘she’s gotta be…’ that’s straight out the 1980s. There’s even, good grief, an
actual singalong chorus. If the backing sounds nothing like Crosby, though,
then the words are at least more ‘normal’ (i.e. weird). This is a coming of age
song, Croz seemingly recounting the tale of the same girl last heard on ‘The
City’ where the female character is ‘on a mission with a graphic twist’, young
and hungry, desperate to make her mark on a big city so everyone knows her
name. ‘Pack up the Eldorado’ she cries as she packs up her belongings to make
her mark on the world and sets off for the ‘land of blue skies’ like a
character from an ELO song. At this stage in her journey she’s much earlier on
in her tale, still upbeat and positive, a million miles away from the traps
waiting to catch her out. Unusually Croz is content to watch her progress
without offering up any real warnings and this song doesn’t do his usual thing
of worrying about the future so much as strut in a good-time-rock kind of a way
(a ‘Steely Dan’ way if you will). Any fan expecting a similarly moody
masterpiece to both predecessor ‘Lighthouse’ and Nash’s ‘This Path Tonight’,
full of reconciliation and guilt, will be caught out: have we ever heard Crosby
quite this happy? The result is a song that’s a nice attempt to navigate
unchartered territory and it’s sure to appeal to the Steely-Dan end of Crosby’s
fanbase. For me though is all too bright and lacks Crosby’s usual shading and
original brilliance, being the sort of song anybody with a synth and a modicum
of talent could come up with.
Title track ‘Sky Trails’ is much more like it. A
moody tentative acoustic piece, it’s easily the highlight of the album and
gives us – so I suspect – more of the ‘real’ Croz than we’ve had in a while.
You wouldn’t know it from his interviews or his twitter feed, but there must be
some part of Crosby that feels the pain of the sudden violent collapse of CSNY
after nearly fifty years together or trying to get it together. Croz, of
course, hasn’t told us what this song is about but it sounds like the hangover
the morning after his temper got the better of him, worrying about whether he
really has just lost his best friend by being rude to Nash. The clue is in the
amount of nautical references, the latest in a long of CSN songs to do this and
perhaps a reply to Nash’s own CSN-ending song ‘Beneath The Waves’, as Crosby
tells us that he’s in ‘uncharted waters’ here, trying to apologise without
wanting to take back anything he said because he still believes it to be true
(Nash did rather use Crosby’s backstory to sell his own book, but it’s not as
if Crosby’s own autobiography was any kinder!) Crosby knows he should be
getting out of bed, but his heart is heavy and he’d rather not face the world,
the ‘dream fading’ in more ways than just the one he was slumbering to. He wonders
why he was so ‘careless’ with someone’s heart when they’ve been through so much
together and they feel like ‘home’. Crosby is in need of home: he’s waking up
in some unknown hotel room in some strange town and wonders where his old
friend/partner is, realising that after a lifetime in each other’s pockets they
no longer know where each other are anymore. The addition of Becca Stevens,
sounding much more like Maia Sharp than her rather intrusive presence on
‘Lighthouse’, is a clever move, both because she sounds stunningly beautiful
here on a song that really suits her style (like a younger Carole King but
better) and because it puts distance between what this song is really about,
turning it into a duet for two lovers. This won’t fool CSN fans though who’ll
recognise both the lost, haunted feel of Crosby’s ‘If Only I Could Remember My
Name’ album of 1971 and the glorious scat-singing improvisations Crosby-Nash
made a speciality. Crosby, though, sounds lost and uncertain without Nash
alongside him and Becca sounds like a ghost. ‘Please tell me where I am!’ the
song pleads, desperate for direction both out of this strange town and in life,
recalling ‘Where Will I Be?’ in its spooky madness and muted howl of pain. An
exquisite song, beautifully sung, this softer jazz lament gives Crosby much
more scope for revealing his ‘real’ self than the rest of this rather
over-produced album without being as boring as much of ‘Lighthouse’.
‘Sell Me A Diamond’ gets on with the rest of this
poppy album as if pretending nothing has happened and we haven’t just seen into
Crosby’s soul. Instead he’s back attacking consumerist society and the idea of
being sold something for ‘free’ when it really comes at a very high price. He’s
promised a free diamond – sounds good right? The promise of beauty surely can
never be dimmed. ‘Makes conflict free – sounds good to me’ is this song’s
chilled-out ending, the closest this album gets to hippie utopia of old. But is
that ‘conflict free’ as in ‘no conflict’ or is that ‘conflict is easier because
you’ve been paid off?’ Crosby’s vocal is halfway pure and halfway mocking,
while Jeff Pevar’s grungy solo could be either angry or passionate promotion.
Crosby though hears the couple behind him arguing over one and realises how
ugly it can be. A song that’s clearly inspired by Crosby’s struggling financial
shape of the past twenty years (he’s still paying for his escapades in the
1980s and back taxes, living hand-to-mouth in contrast to many of his peers),
this is a song about the value behind money and currency and the idea that we
have greater gifts to give each other than money. The song then peels back to a
wider idea of people always after a free lunch: Crosby’s given up reading the
news because the promises of certain people will never be realised and he can
see it’s all lies (there’s no mention of an orange baboon with tiny hands in
The White House, but you sense that’s where Crosby is heading). As on ‘Camera’,
Crosby is cheered by the sound of
children laughing, pure joy that money could never match, though what this song
really recalls is Joni Mitchell’s ‘For Free’ where a busker plays his heart out
for spare change, while a millionaire rockstar walks past worrying about their
millions (as covered by Crosby in many concerts and The Byrds’ 1973 reunion
album). Alas this promising song is, like much of this album, overcooked and
the sense is that Crosby has dressed up in a shirt and tie to tell us about the
horrors of capitalism. Everything is too clean for this sort of a song, too
neat, too tidy: it needs a sense of raw power but even the guitar solo – the
best thing about this song – feels tidied away in a box. Once again you get the
feeling Croz has been listening to too many Steely Dan records instead of his
own imagination.
‘Before Tomorrow Falls On Love’ is a song that
surely sounds beautiful in concert where it’s given space to live and breathe,
with its sighing intimate Crosby crooning vocal and exquisite big fat James
Raymond jazz piano chords. The lyrics too are pretty gorgeous, a reflection not
so much on the end of a love affair as a generation. The end of CSN seem to
have hurt Crosby more in a ‘gee we were going to prove them wrong and change
the world’ sense than a personal one, as here he laments lost opportunities on
a song that recalls ‘Wasted On The Way’ and a dash of ‘Delta’. ‘Where’s that
brave new world we used to talk about and smile?’ Crosby sighs. I’m also
willing to bet my Crosby CDs that the line ‘an untidy kind of love…music to
balance cold dark man’ is Crosby’s summary of what CSNY once stood for and it’s
a pretty great summary I have to say. Alas, as if to prove how much Crosby has
moved on from the ‘old days’ already this song is even less like CSNY than
usual. It’s a slow jazz song, again far more in keeping with Steely Dan music
than anything Crosby has ever done before. Even on an album that insists on
doing that sort of thing quite a lot it seems a shame: this song should be
cosy, intimate and moving, an emotional heartfelt confessional. Instead the
ugly slap-bass and the smoky effect on the keyboards keeps getting in the way
of the emotion and Crosby’s vocal isn’t one of his best, all too audibly take
thirty or forty or something similar when he’s forgotten the emotion of what
he’s meant to be singing. The result, tragically, isn’t as moving as it ought
to be as Crosby waves time on CSN with more fondness than Nash (if, oddly, not
as much as Young on ‘Walk Like A Giant’ from 2012’s ‘Psychedelic Pill’ – odd
because Neil quit the band more than anyone). This is a moving song if you can
read it rather than hear it though, as Crosby laments losing not just a chance
to mean something to people but a ‘chance to battle this loneliness’ as he’s
rather forced into being a solo act.
‘Here It’s Almost Sunset’ finally finds a way of
making the Crosby/Steely Dan groove work. Perhaps taking note of his ‘missing
years’ in his drugs haze of the 1980s, Crosby retreats there for this song
about worrying that he’s running out of time and his desperation to say things
before it is too late. Crosby’s urgency, though, hits the laidback backing head
on and it’s the contrast between the two that makes this song one of the best
on the album: Crosby wants to rally with the desperation of his youth but he’s
too content and cosy to fight out the way he once would. ‘For better or for
worse’ he’s chosen a quieter, humbler domestic life and can’t do what he used
to do ‘and yet the music play’s me…setting me free’, Crosby pausing on that
last word to make it sound as if it’s the most glorious thing that’s ever
happened to him. Suddenly a ghostly choir of voices arrive from nowhere, the
one production gimmick on this album that’s really effective, lifting the song
above its obstinate earth-bound groove. I’m less keen on the squeaky saxophone
which is a step into Steely Dan territory too far for these ears and Crosby’s
vocal is still too laidback – he really needs to be the only thing on this song
pushing forward, rushing on, desperate to say things. There is, though, much to
love about this song as Crosby tells us again how ‘dark’ it is ‘stumbling’ around
his career on his own without his colleagues and sighing ‘it’s probably all my
fault’. There’s a neat allusion to one of his most popular Byrds songs ‘Tribal
Gathering’ too as he struggles to ‘reach the rest of my tribe’ and finds
himself cut off from them all. Crosby figures that they are too old for this
and should know better, staring out from yet another hotel window and figuring
that he’s running out of time to say everything on his mind. And yet the sun –
the creativity – is pouring through him ‘brighter’ than ever, even while the
rest of the world gets ‘darker’ and ‘blinder’. Crosby cleverly depicts his solo
album as ‘crying out loud’ where nobody really listens the way they would if he
was still a member of CSN, but as if to prove the point this lightly jazzy song
is exactly the sort of thing he could never really have done with the trio,
even if the prettier moments of it recalls ‘Arrows’ from 1990’s ‘Live It Up’
LP.
‘Capitol’ is, perhaps, the most traditionally
Crosby-like song on the album. He starts the song in awe at the bankers’
‘temples’, the white marble, the ‘geometric patterns covering the floor’ and
the flags that fly from the walls. But it’s all for show, to impress, to make
the people who work there think they are above everyone as ‘patriotic souls’
see the spectacle and assume the world powers are better than them. But they’re
not, they’re worse, filling their pockets with people’s money and refusing to
listen when people complain about their abuse of power. Once more Crosby
wonders ‘what are their names?’ as he asks ‘What do they feel?’ when they
fleece our money and ‘what do they say?’ when the cameras are ‘turned off’. The
title is particularly clever: this is the capital of the banking world, based
on capitol and designed to show off what people have versus the people who
don’t, even though it’s all paid or with tax-payer’s money anyway. There’s a
great daring middle eight as the will of the people is ‘completely ignored’,
the rich only fielding their own candidates in elections and laughing when the
votes for anyone else ‘aren’t counted’, exactly what happened in our UK
elections of 2010 and 2016. Alas, though, this is another of this album’s songs
that reads better as a lyric than it is to listen to and the tune seems to have
followed along later – quite a lot later. This is another of the most Steely
Danified moments of the album, which sadly means it’s all a bit emotionless and
a chance for the backing band to do weird and unsuitable things with synths,
artificial drums and yet more squealing saxophones. I’m, err, not a fan – and
isn’t making a song like this sound like a spectacle rather than allowing it
the space it needs to be one rather missing the point of the whole song? This
sounds like the sort of thing a yuppie would have been listening to in the
1980s and yet I’m not convinced that this is intended in any ironic sense.
Musicwise this is easily the worst moment on the album – thank goodness, then,
for a touch of that old Crosby bravery in the lyrics.
‘Amelia’ came as a shock for me when I first heard
it as it’s so different for Crosby, an image and metaphor filled song with a
real haunting emotional power. And then I realised: it’s a sweet but rather
forgettable Joni Mitchell song from 1976 that was rather lost in the middle of
‘Hejira’. Crosby here proves that he’s retained all his old arranging skills,
slowing the song down and making it even sadder with the addition of pedal
steel guitar, while James Raymond captures Joni’s piano style perfectly. Alas
though his lyric is again a little wide of the mark on a song that’s clearly
here as a tribute to Crosby’s one-time muse, who so very nearly died last
year and her hermit-like existence since
(‘I wish that she was here tonight, it’s so hard to obey her sad request of me
to kindly stay away’). The song makes much play over a ‘false alarm’, that a
couple seem to be drifting apart forever but are really only going their
separate ways for a while, until Amelia Earhart, feminist icon and aviator,
disappears forever in mysterious circumstances without really meaning to. When
Joni wrote it she probably saw much of herself in the pilot who trod new ground
every time she got in a plane and who risked her life frequently, but lost her
life not at a moment when she was being reckless but when she was happily
married and had more to lose. Joni, who knew heartbreak so well, was always
seeing red flags that things would go wrong (not least with Nash) but instead married
her boyfriend Larry Steele in 1982. In context you can see why Crosby chose
this song to cover: it’s an extra little dig at Nash, a reminder of how ‘Our
House’ wasn’t quite as perfect as it once seemed and a huge hug for Joni,
incommunicado since her brain aneurysm as he celebrates the fact that she
didn’t die, that against the odds her illness was a ‘false alarm’ however
weakened she may be. Sung with tenderness, if not much power, Crosby has fun on
a song so far out of his usual comfort zone and the sky setting, as Earhart
looks to the skies with brilliance of what lies next, seems to have inspired
much of his own writing across this album. It’s a big improvement on ‘Yvette In
English’, if not up to ‘For Free’ or ‘Urge For Going’, the other Mitchell cover
songs Crosby has performed over the years.
Far from the skies, though, Crosby is turning to
thoughts of domestic bliss at the end of this album and near the end of his
life. ‘Somebody Home’ starts where ‘She’s Got To Be Somewhere’ and ‘The City’
left off. The idealistic young girl is being pursued by wolves who want to sleep
with her and are only pretending to help her get to the top. But suddenly, on
verse two, this song changes. Crosby is no longer a malicious monster but
genuinely cares for the model he meets, sensing a kindred spirit and a sense of
‘home’ in his wayward confusing life. Is this, then, the story of his meeting
with Jan who was indeed a model when they first met? Suddenly Crosby is shy:
far from assuming that he can get something out of furthering her career, he
wonders how somebody so brilliant could possibly be interested in someone as
useless as him? There’s a sudden rush of beauty from the best horn arrangement
on the album (something Steely Dan could never match) as this odd beginning
swells into love. Crosby hears her speak for the first time and he now knows
that she’s ‘home’. Crosby, suddenly subdued and unsure of himself, then plucks
up the courage to speak to her and ask her out…at which point the song sadly
slides away, the haunting notes of the magic spell cast on him hanging in the
air as the song disappears suddenly. That’s a shame because it’s just getting
good: for much of the song Crosby is over-singing, becoming a jazz crooner and
though it makes for a nice change on this album there’s not much happening here
until near the end. Even so this is easily one of the better album tracks, with
a real heart and soul about it and a sense that this song is ‘real’ in a way
many of the others aren’t.
‘Curved Air’, by contrast, is the album’s weakest
track. Crosby again defers to the Steely Dan jazz stylings in his head, even
though they sound rigid and repetitive on an oddball song that should be
dancing to its own tune in true Crosby fashion. A flamenco guitar part by Pevar
sounds not unlike one of Stills’ Spanish-songs but alas whilst Stills always
used the different style to speak even more from the heart than normal, Crosby
is playing around with music in a postmodernist sense. ‘This is too strange to
be serious, too rocky to be flat…I got no time for that!’ he snaps, before
calling himself, hopefully jokily, ‘moderate and white’. Crosby again looks for
‘solid ground’ to bring him down to earth, realising that his imagination lets
him fly away and far over the heads of other people sometimes. On this album,
divided between songs of loss at losing what went before and the safety and
comfort of home, it sounds like a song about both: Crosby lacks the earthy
grounding and commercial appeal Stills and Nash once leant to his work and too
often ends up writing songs like this one that are bizarre, like a Kratfwerk
robot doing a flamenco dance while on fire and trying to stamp the flames out
with a flute. On the other, it’s a tribute to how comfortable and safe he feels
at this stage in his career, with his family all around him and the sense that
he can come home and feel safe enough to fly in these brave waters.
Unfortunately this song left me behind, with a [particularly irritating backing
that repeats one synth note like a morse code and whose big instrumental finale
battle between a guitar and piano is a pale shadow of what used to appear on
CPR albums twenty years ago. Crosby’s writing the first thing that comes into
his head to see where it takes him – and unfortunately it’s nowhere terribly
musical, while the poor performance and production make what could have been an
exciting song fall flat.
The album ends rather sweetly though on ‘Home Free’.
While Nash’s album ended with his own death as he finally leaves the stage
imagining applause, Crosby stays closer to home, taking a bath, ignored by
everyone and counting his blessings. Crosby feels so safe ‘like a baby in a
blanket with nothing to fear’. All he has to do today is ‘boil some coffee on a
worn-out stove’, chat to his family and bash around on a guitar. He really did
choose the right path: he got the family he wanted, the career he desired, he
did it all. ‘Maybe I’ll never leave here at all’ he sighs, as he compares
himself to a ‘tree with no leaves’, his branches having already born all the
fruit they needed to in order to satisfy his younger self’s drive and hunger.
Everything Crosby did, the heights he reached, the things he saw, were all
leading to this point where he had a wife he loved and a home that’s perfect,
well nearly. The song is the second most Crosby-like on the album, as it
doesn’t so much run repetitively like the rest of the album as swell, dancing
on the spot between two notes, a merry sweet dance that in lesser hands would
be boring but on this song about counting your blessings however small is
perfectly suited. After all those decades of being a thorn in the side of the
establishment, of pushing back the musical envelope, of writing some of the
most daring and controversial songs of the 20th century, Crosby has
found true contentment from the simple pleasures of home, perhaps the final
‘answer’ to the troubled question of his youth on ‘Where Will I Be?’, a similar
song all round chord-wise if very different in feel. Instead of worrying about
the future though, this song answers with the idea that Crosby is destined to
be here, where it’s safe and he can feel happy and content.
The end result, then, is an album that works best on
the three quiet intimate songs where the ‘real’ Crosby peeks through, the
home-bird enjoying pottering round at home and answering mad fans on twitter as
well as this late-career renaissance. ‘Sky Trails’ works far better when it
stays closer to home, doing the sort of things Crosby always did but perhaps
with an older and wiser head. It doesn’t work that well at all when reaching
for the skies and trying to make Crosby into the new commercial Steely Dan
figure of the 20-teens that it really didn’t need or ask for. I would have
liked more Crosby and fewer guest stars across this album, more of a feeling of
the warmth and beauty of a CPR record than the ugly pop of ‘Croz’ and if
there’s one decade I wish Crosby hadn’t returned to then it’s the 1980s, the
lynchpin of the sound of this record that already sounds horrifically dated as
I write this on the week of release (I can’t wait for music to move on from its
current 1980s synth obsession into something better – the 1990s would do, or
better still the 1960s are due to come round again). But then I suspect the
whole point of this album is to break new ground rather than appeal to
curmudgeonly old-timers like me: ‘Lighthouse’ was the album that gave the world
the Crosby it was asking for (even if it gave us a little too much, with so
many acoustic songs that sounded the same); by releasing it Croz sounds freer
to make this album how he wanted it, with a big band and a sound he’d never
tried before but clearly admires (though for the life of me I can’t think why:
at times the pompous professional rigid empty feel of ‘Steely Dan’ sounds as
far away from pure CSN, so free loose nimble and gloriously full, as you can
get). Neither record quite makes the grade, though there’s a quite brilliant
one nestling there somewhere, especially if you throw the best of 2014’s ‘Croz’
into the pot as well. Crosby has proved for a third time in a row now that he
can surprise us by giving us what we least expect, while giving us just enough
Crosbyness to prove what an amazing album he could deliver if he stuck to his
strengths and how talented he still is. I think I’ve said this on the last two
albums reviews now, but maybe the next one will be the one that proves Crosby’s
genius is undimmed – this album isn’t it by any means, but I still have hope
that the next one is really truly it this time.
A Now Complete List Of CSN/Y and Solo Articles Available To Read At Alan’s Album Archives:
'Crosby, Stills and Nash' (1969) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-29-crosby-stills-and-nash-1969.html
'Deja Vu' (CSNY) (1970) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-34-crosby-stills-nash-and-young.html
‘Stephen Stills’ (1970) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/stephen-stills-1970.html
'If Only I Could Remember My Name' (Crosby) (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-45-david-crosby-if-only-i-could.html
'Songs For Beginners' (Nash) (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-46-graham-nash-songs-for.html
'Stephen Stills II' (1971) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-48-stephen-stills-ii-1971.html
‘Graham Nash, David
Crosby’ (1972) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/graham-nash-david-crosby-1972.html
'Stephen Stills-Manassas' (1972)http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-51-stephen-stillsmanassas-1972.html
'Wild Tales' (Nash) (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/news-views-and-music-issue-75-graham.html
'Stephen Stills-Manassas' (1972)http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-51-stephen-stillsmanassas-1972.html
'Wild Tales' (Nash) (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/news-views-and-music-issue-75-graham.html
'Down The Road' (Stephen
Stills/Manassas) (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/stephen-stillsmanassas-down-by-road-1973.html
'Stills' (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/review-65-stephen-stills-stills-1975.html
'Wind On The Water' (Crosby-Nash) (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-67-crosby-nash-wind-on-water.html
'Stills' (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/review-65-stephen-stills-stills-1975.html
'Wind On The Water' (Crosby-Nash) (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-67-crosby-nash-wind-on-water.html
'Illegal Stills' (Stills)
(1976)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/stephen-stills-illegal-stills-1976.html
'Whistling Down The Wire'
(Crosby-Nash) (1976)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/david-crosby-graham-nash-whistling-down.html
'Long May You Run' (Stills-Young) (1976) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/05/news-views-and-music-issue-33-stills.html
'CSN' (1977) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-70-crosby-stills-and-nash-csn.html
'Long May You Run' (Stills-Young) (1976) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/05/news-views-and-music-issue-33-stills.html
'CSN' (1977) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-70-crosby-stills-and-nash-csn.html
'Thoroughfare Gap'
(Stills) (1978) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/stephen-stills-thoroughfare-gap-1978.html
'Earth and Sky' (Nash)
(1980)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/09/graham-nash-earth-and-sky-1980.html
'Daylight Again' (CSN) (1982) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/news-views-and-music-issue-131-crosby.html
'Daylight Again' (CSN) (1982) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/news-views-and-music-issue-131-crosby.html
'Right By You' (Stills)
(1984) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/03/stephen-stills-right-by-you-1984.html
'Innocent Eyes' (Nash)
(1986)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/01/graham-nash-innocent-eyes-1986.html
'American Dream' (CSNY)
(1988) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/crosby-stills-nash-and-young-american.html
'Oh Yes I Can!' (Crosby)
(1989)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2016/07/david-crosby-oh-yes-i-can-1989.html
'Live It Up!' (CSN) (1989) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/news-viedws-and-music-issue-104-crosby.html
'Live It Up!' (CSN) (1989) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/news-viedws-and-music-issue-104-crosby.html
'Stephen Stills Alone'
(1991)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.nl/2016/09/stephen-stills-alone-1991.html
'A Thousand Roads'
(Crosby) (1993) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2017/02/david-crosby-thousand-roads-1993.html
‘After The Storm’ (CSN)
(1994) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/12/the-final-review-crosby-stills-and-nash.html
'CPR' (Crosby Band) (1998)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/cpr-david-crosby-band-1998.html
'Looking Forward' (1999) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/crosby-stills-nash-and-young-looking.html
‘So Like Gravity (CPR,
2001)
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/cpr-just-like-gravity-2001.html
‘Songs For Survivors’ (2002) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/graham-nash-songs-for-survivors-2002.html
‘Songs For Survivors’ (2002) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/graham-nash-songs-for-survivors-2002.html
'Crosby*Nash' (2004) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/02/news-views-and-music-issue-21-crosby.html
‘Man Alive’ (S) (2005) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/stephen-stills-man-alive-2005.html
'Deja Vu Live' (CD) (2008) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/08/news-views-and-music-issue-1-crosby.html
'Deja Vu Live' (DVD) (2008) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008_09_21_archive.html
'Reflections' (Graham Nash Box Set) (2009) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/02/news-views-and-music-issue-22-graham.html
'Demos' (CSN) (2009) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2009/08/news-views-and-music-issue-41-crosby.html
'Manassas: Pieces' (2010) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/01/news-views-and-music-issue-52-manassas.html
‘Carry On’ (Stephen Stills Box Set) (2013) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/stephen-stills-carry-on-box-set-2013.html
'Croz' (Crosby) (2014) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/david-crosby-croz-2014album-review.html
'CSNY 74' (Recorded 1974 Released 2014)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/crosby-stills-nash-and-young-csny-74.html
'This Path Tonight' (Nash) (2016) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/graham-nash-this-path-tonight-2016.html
'Lighthouse' (Crosby)
(2016) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/david-crosby-lighthouse-2016.html
‘Sky Trails’ (Crosby)
(2017) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/david-crosby-sky-trails-2017.html
‘Here
If You Listen’ (Crosby) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2018/10/david-crosby-and-friends-here-if-you.html
The Best Unreleased CSNY
Recordings http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/csny-best-unreleased-tracks-news-views.html
Surviving TV Appearances (1969-2009) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/csny-surviving-tv-appearances-1969-09.html
Non-Album Recordings (1962-2009)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/crosby-stills-nash-and-sometimes-young_6.html
Live/Compilation/Rarities Albums Part One
(1964-1980)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/crosby-stills-nash-and-sometimes-young.html
Live/Compilations/Rarities
Albums Part Two (1982-2012)
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/crosby-stills-nash-and-sometimes-young_20.html
Essay: The Superest Of
Super Groups?
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/01/csny-essay-superest-of-super-groups.html
Five Landmark Concerts and
Three Key Cover Versions
https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/csny-five-landmark-concerts-and-three.html