Let's Look At Those Crazy Eyes Once More...Yup, It's Still Poco's Masterpiece

Often great art can come out of great uncertainty. Sometimes een out of great distress. And while these terms would be overselling the quagmire that Poco found itself in in 1973, it's still amazing that a group that had several major defections over the years that the group did their hands down best album while their founder and leader with an iron fist was quietly quitting on the band he had held in his grip for so long. When A Good Feelin' To Know the album did way worse than everyone thought and the title song - that everyone, and Furay first - thought would be a hit didn't even chart, Furay was done with Poco, at least in his mind. David Geffen oer at Asylum had bothered him for months now, telling him that Poco was never going to happen, and to come over to his label to team up with Chris Hillman and JD Souther and "do another Crosby, Stills and Nash". (Narrator: They did not). 

There was only one problem: Good old fashioned paperwork. When Furay was sent to Epic Records in the first sports-team style 'trade' in music biz history for Graham Nash going to Atlantic to form the just mentioned Crosby, Stills & Nash, he had signed for a certain number of albums, which was not yet fulfilled. So while Furay was gone spiritually, he still had obligations to fulfill and decided to stick with Poco for one last album before doing the supergroup thing Geffen had sold him on. During recording he didn't tell anyone in the group, only announcing that he was leaving while Crazy Eyes was prepped for release. By the time the record hit stores, Furay was gone. But in his wake he left Poco's masterpiece.

He was of course ably helped by the other members of the group, who no doubt felt Furay slipping away, or at least loosening his grip on the band's songwriting and decision-making that had already sent co-founder Jim Messina on his way. The first thing one realizes when listening to Crazy Eyes is how diminshed Furay's contributions are. He has three lead vocals, but only two credited songs. Common logic would dictate that that's because he was doing minimum service and keeping all his good songs for the future Asylum Records project. But unlike his future group mate Hillman - who admitted to doing all that for the Byrds reunion that brought him to Geffen in the first place - that is not true. For one thing, original closing number "Let's Dance Tonight" is one of his best Poco songs ever. The title song is an astonoshing accomplishment, a mini-symphony whose gradual construction is a joy to behold. And that song, a eulogy for Gram Parsons before the spiralling country rock star actually died probably led him to want to cover Parsons' "Brass Buttons". 

But yeah, the other guys really stepped up. Timothy Schmit had already upped his efforts on the previous album, but his "Here We Go Again" was a new high, and rightfully chosen as the album's lead single, even if once more success inexplicably eluded them. Paul Cotton has strong showings with pure country opener "Blue Water" and "A Right Along", plus a wonderful version of J.J. Cale's "Magnolia" that would become a band standard for the rest of its existence with Cotton in the band. Another thing that is marvelous is Jack Richardson's production work - from the echo on Furay's forlorn vocal on "Brass Buttons" to the way it highlights George Grantham's drum fills to the way "Crazy Eyes" builds from just some distant drums, revealing layer of layer of instruments during its gradual build up. Just marvelous stuff, after the arguably underproduced From The Inside and the overproduced A Good Feelin' To Know. Here Richardson and the band - with a huge assist by Bob Ezrin on the title cut - find just the right balance. 

But back to Furay for a second. While he did hold back a song like "Fallin' In Love" for the debut of the Souther-Hillman-Furay Band, he did contribute a new song, "Believe Me" that would finally show up on that album, but could've been on Crazy Eyes. The released SHF Band version is fine, but the looser, more expansive Poco version is fantastic. And he finally went on to record "Nothing's Still The Same", written in late 1969, yet somehow it didn't make either Poco or DeLIVErin', despite being one of his best compositions. One Buck Records vets will remember that Crazy Eyes has been featured here before, and no history will not be erased. I think the original write-up has its moments, but the little chronological Poco alt album series I am currently doing allowed me to take a deeper dive into some aspects of the album I didn't at the time, and both together give you a ton of insight into the original album and its One Buck Record incarnation.

You might have guessed, or, you remember, that the Crazy Eyes on these pages is a reworked alt album that adds four songs that were cut for it but not used, including the above mentioned Furay-tracks, Cotton's superior remake of an Illinois Speed Press song ("Get In The Wind") and a sprightly Rusty Young instrumental. There's lots of nerdy sequencing discussion in the old write-up, if that's your thing, so I'm not going to repeat all of this stuff here. Let me just say it once more. This is the way to listen to that album, as each reinstated number brings something to the table and the album is much more varied and runs way better in this imagined double vinyl album version. Seriously, this is the version of Crazy Eyes to have and hold, and treasure, and listen to repeatedly. It's a really good album in its original form, but I dare say without false modesty that my work pushes it into great album territory. 

It might've been Furay's last dance with the band he founded, and his untimely exit always has overshadowed its musical merits somewhat. But what could have been a lame duck uninspired contract filler album - at least as far as Furay was concerned - turned into something else entirely, especially in this expanded version: a new country rock masterpiece - nothing more, nothing less.