One Half of a Supergroup’ No More
Dallas – It’s another city and it’s another radio interview. “Got a couple of guys here with me that will be in town tonight. One half of one of the greatest all-time supergroups – David Crosby and Graham Nash.” As the Dallas disc jockey turns to interview his guests, Crosby fixes him with a stare. “Can I tell you something?” he says. “That’s the worst introduction we’ve ever had.”
Softly, deliberately, Nash speaks directly into the microphone. “Let’s get this straight. David and I are not one half of anything. I really don’t think that you can fairly listen to Wind on the Water, or anything else David and I have done on our own, and say that.”
“Just come to the show tonight and see for yourself,” Crosby adds. “We have a band now [Danny “Kootch” Kortchmar, guitars; Tim Drummond, bass; Craig Doerge, keyboards; David Lindley, slide, steel and violin; and Russell Kunkel, drums] that’s just as electric and just as magic as any other we’ve been associated with. Check it out. You’ll be surprised.”
Like the entire seven-week Wind on the Water tour, the Crosby/Nash band’s three-hour performance that evening is intended to bury the stigma of their laid-back CSNY image. The acoustic, close-harmony balladeering is still there, of course, in the form of “Lady of the Island,” “Simple Man,” “Our House,” “Guinnevere” and “Carry Me” – but so is a steam of double-fisted metal music. “Pre-Road Downs,” “Low Down Payment,” “Wooden Ships” “Take the Money and Run” all cook with the assurance of a cocky rock & roll band. “No way is this a couple of stars and their backup musicians,” says Craig Doerge, a prominent soloist in the show. “It’s a definite band. I care as much about this music as I do my own… but then again, it is my own.”
The Dallas disc jockey puts it another way as he waits outside their dressing room. “I’m impressed,” he shrugs. “Truly impressed. Between you and me, I always thought of these guys as the George and Ringo of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Know what I mean? Guess I was wrong.”
With the ambitious, now gold Wind on the Water album lingering in the Top Ten and their electric tour garnering raves, David Crosby and Graham Nash appear to be winning their battle for a new identity. “I feel more at home with myself than ever before,” Graham reflects several nights later, after a Miami concert where the band was joined onstage by Carole King. “No question. For such a long time I used to look at myself as very expendable, from my private life to my role in the Hollies or CSNY or whatever. I’m very happy these days. I’ve taken my life into my own hands and become more responsible for it – from relationships to managing ourselves to a new record company to the gold album to this band and tour… all the stuff that’s been happening this year. I feel secure, and yes, that new aggressiveness is in the music David, the band and I are making right now. I’m not a bad musician. I’m not a bad songwriter. I feel real good about myself.” Nash laughs and sips some tea. “See, I do smile sometimes. I’m learning.”
Nash’s monologue is interrupted by a phone call from somebody looking for Tim Drummond. “He’s in the restaurant… up on the roof with Carole.” Several minutes later, on the verge of hysterics, he says, “I should have said he was under the boardwalk with the Drifters.”
King, a relatively new acquaintance of Nash and Crosby, came to Florida to be with her friends and regain a feeling for the stage. “God, do I love them. They give me the chills,” she’d said as Crosby and Nash sang “Guinnevere” onstage at Miami’s Jai Alai Fronton. A few minutes before, she’d performed three classic Carole King/Gerry Goffin songs. She’d also sung “I’d Like to Know You Better” from her forthcoming album, Thoroughbred, and had joined in as Nash sang the lead on “I’ll See You in the Spring,” which was written for the next Crosby/Nash album. When she, Crosby and Nash hit the three-part chorus on “high Out of Time,” they’d shivered with the joy of the moment.
Scenes like this make Nash value his friendships, especially his closeness with Crosby. “I like cooperative music better than competitive music, and working with David there’s a million less trips than in any other combination, including me as a solo artist. David’s a human being that I respect immensely on an enormous amount of levels. He’s constantly trying to improve as a person and as a musician. I see a man who treats me with respect, that see who I am and likes what he sees.” Nash senses himself becoming serious again and adds a kicker. “Apart from that, he’s a maniac.”
And what about Stills and Young?
“I really want to make a break from Stephen and Neil. That’s not to say I won’t be right there for them – but they have to be right there for me, ’cause I’ve been right there for them for many years and never got it back. I won’t do it anymore. I’ve wanted my own identity for some time.
“It’s only now that people are starting to realize that CSNY was never a band. We were four individuals you could juggle in any combination, but we would always be just that – individuals. People have always wanted us to be a band, to have something to believe in – and that’s bullshit. They wanted to believe that we were actually spokesmen for today’s society. That’s fucked. But it’s more naive than fucked.
“We were irresponsible with the power we had, I can see that now, CSNY never made enough albums, and god knows it wasn’t for lack of material. I’m happy that ‘Through My Sails’ [a CSNY track from the aborted sessions last summer] made it onto Neil’s Zuma album. God bless him. But I definitely am well past feeling that CSNY is all that matters and Graham Nash or Graham Nash and David Crosby is an insignificant dwarf in its shadow.”
According to Crosby, he and Graham’s post-CSNY ambition was to “surround ourselves with a fresh environment of friends and musicians.” The word went out that David and Graham were in L.A. and only too happy to make new music with new friends. James Taylor, King, Dave Mason and Art Garfunkel were among those who rallied around. “We love playing,” maintains Crosby, “and we’ll always do it for someone we like. That’s what we are here for. It’s a joy and we do it for free.”
“For such a long time,” says C/N caretaker and assistant Glen Goodwin, “David and Graham were locked into the same scene. It was great to see them make all these new friends and watch these other musicians who were in the same position interact for the first time. Now it’s like a big family. Carole, Garfunkel and Dave Mason, for example, have all flown in to guest on this tour at different stops.”
Wind on the Water involved a whole other set of musicians – Kortchmar, Drummond, Doerge, Lindley and Kunkel – all of them much demanded studio players. Surely their ability to woo such musicians owes plenty to Graham and David’s – particularly David’s – amiable irreverence. It’s not uncommon for Crosby, after a sizzling onstage solo, to turn to the perpetrator and shriek, “Fuck you. That’s not fair. Not fair.” At the same time, Russ Kunkel, who has recorded behind everyone from Dan Fogelberg to Bob Dylan, has received only two gold records in his entire career. Both of them from Crosby and Nash.
“David and Graham will never have any trouble getting musicians to play for them,” says Kortchmar. “Personally, I’ve never gotten the kind of belief I’ve gotten playing with them. Crosby has given me so much confidence in myself it’s unbelievable. He’s an incredible source of energy and delight. Nash too. They want me to be me. And get as outrageous as I can get.”
Money, he admits, is a factor too. “I’m expensive as a motherfucker. I’m the first to admit it. Why sleep in Motel 6, man? I play solo after solo and get paid damn good money doing it. The music is incredible. I’ve been playing with Kunkel and Doerge for so long it’s like one note. And Drummond and Lindley are really gravy. This, to me, is turkey heaven…. Shucks.” Kootch whispers, “I’d do it for free.”
While they will not talk hard figures, it is obvious that Crosby and Nash are paying dearly for their band – by their own choice. “If some of the guys in this group knew how much we were making they’d be awfully surprised. They probably wouldn’t allow it. But don’t worry. David and I will survive.”
Kunkel: “They’re terrifically generous people. They give everything that they have to an audience. Subsequently they’re the same to us. That’s very unusual. They encourage us to take the ultimate risk. They want us to cross the line and play whatever we feel, which means that everything can either fall apart or turn into magic. With these musicians magic happens every night. I’ll play with these guys for as long as they want me.”
Carole King, after a particularly magical evening onstage with them in St. Petersburg, had the same idea. “Hey, guys,” she purred, sidling up to Graham and David. “What do you think of Crosby, King and Nash?”
“I get it,” chortled Crosby, “And we’ll call our first album Deja Vu.”
Courtesy of Rolling Stone #203 – Cameron Crowe – January 1, 1976