One Album Wonders: How many Buffalo did you say you've seen?

60 000 000 Buffalo weren't supposed to be one album wonders. Unlike some others in this series, they didn't struggle through self-publishing or difficult record company dealings. They were contracted for two albums by the mid-sized Atco label, but after completing Nevada Jukebox the band soon broke up afterwards. Which is a shame because lead singer Judy Roderick was an absolute powerhouse and Don Debacker on guitar was no slouch either. The group was in a friendly competition with fellow Colorado band Zephyr, whose lead singer Candy Givens - like Judy Roderick - somewhat recalled Janis Joplin. I'd say Roderick was less obviously imitating Joplin, and while Zephyr had its moments, I overall prefer the country-fried vibe of Nevada Jukebox. 

In many ways, 60 000 000 Buffalo are somewhat typical of a hippie band in 1972, freewheelin' while generally staying in a blues rock framework with some country influences mixed in as was the style of the day. "Lovely Ladies" with its slightly sludgy midtempo blues stomp is probably a good representation of their style, while "Denver Dame" does the same thing in a more relaxed register. "Canyon Persuasion" shows that Roderick is equally effective with a ballad, while Don Debacker gets a vocal cameo on the old timey country rag "Shake it & Break It". But the real highlights of the album are the lilting "Country Girl Again" and their turbo-charged cover of the traditional "Maid Of Constant Sorrow" which old time One Buck Heads might remember from all the way back on All Pearl, No Swine Vol. 2. 

This is a nice rock'n'roll'n'blues'n'country record from back in the day - nothing more, nothing less. But sometimes that is quite enough. 

The Byrds come full circle, now even more in style...

At long last, we come to the end of the Byrds' twilight years, and the end of my associated series of alternate albums, chronicling the band's adventures from the recruitment of Gram Parsons in late 1967 to the last album to wear the Byrds name. When Asylum announced that the classic five-piece line-up of the original Byrds would reunite and record an album, expectations were flying high. Way too high, as it turns out. When the record came out and was passable, rather than great, critics came down hard on the adventure. Of course, by 1973 things had changed so much that any direct continuation of where the band had stopped in 1966 would have been illusory. There was no return to innocence. Nor was such a thing ever planned. The reunited band was a band only in the absolute loosest sense of the term. With all of them (besides Michael Clarke, who was just happy to be there and collect a sizable check) having eyes and attention on other projects and David Crosby thanks to Crosby, Stills & Nash having risen to a status of immense power, the get together was modeled like the latter, a semi-recurring side adventure while everyone else was also doing their solo careers and projects. 

Since everyone was still tied into other things when David Geffen initiated the Byrds reunion (McGuinn was wrapping up with the CBS Byrds and Hillman with Manassas), there was little time spent rehearsing and playing with each other, not to mention collaborating or co-songwriting. When the not very inspiringly titled Byrds came out, the album sold well, returning the band to the Top 50 in the album charts after Farther Along's abysmal performance, but the critics savaged the record. It seemed a trifle, bereft of inspiration or conviction, a record made by a bunch of rock stars to make themselves richer, employing an affable but ultimately disppointing country rock sheen on a number of pedestrian songs. 

The album also bore all the hallmarks of a compromise due to egos and old war wounds involved. As this was more or less Crosby's project (as the official producer), he had not very subtly sidelined old foe Roger McGuinn. McGuinn gets a mere two lead vocals and is completely absent from the b-side of the album. The greatest beneficiary of the old McGuinn-Crosby grudge was Gene Clark who - as a sort of neutral person in the middle - got four lead vocals, including on the two Neil Young songs on the album. Hillman had deliberately brought his worst songs, basically two outtakes from Manassas' Down The Road sessions, and kept his better compositions for a future solo album, feeling the others were doing the same. 

Now, obviously I don't share all the gripes with the album, it is much better than it is generally given credit for. The playing and singing at times is marvelous and does remind you of the magic of the original Byrds. But the strains of ego-soothing and the lack of effort or good will from some members do show, as the album could and should have been better. There is some really good stuff on the album, but 'really good stuff' wasn't what people wanted, they wanted the genius and adventurous attitude they associated with The Band That Started It All. But the makings of a good album are there, and with some care and some little twisting and fixing we might just get there. So, let's take a look back towards the end of the recording of the album and how things might have turned out differently and better: 

The sessions had proceed as planned, with producer Crosby paying little mind to the classic Byrds sound and due to old grudges actively trying to minimize McGuinn’s contributions. The fate of the project changes during a playback meeting with David Geffen. Geffen is flabbergasted by what he hears, remarking “This doesn’t sound like the fuckin’ Byrds”. When Crosby wants to give him the old spiel about the band changing and evolving, Geffen wants to hear none of it. ”Where’s McGuinn?” he asks, after realizing that the voice most associated with the Byrds is missing in action for three quarters of the album. So Geffen wonders about how to get a product that is more to his liking and, more importantly, distinctly more Byrds-ian. Scheduling new sessions with the group members, who are all off to other obligations proves impractical, if not impossible. An off the cuff remark from McGuinn about how “back then, we sounded like the Byrds” referring to the sessions for an aborted Gene Clark single in 1970 sparks an idea in Geffen’s mind. 

He contacts Jim Dickson to find out more about possible Byrds and Byrds-ian tracks in A&M’s vaults, falling in love with the “She’s the Kind Of Girl/One In A Hundred” single that wasn’t. Dickson also points him to an outtake from Gene Clark’s Roadmaster album sessions, a recut version of “She Don’t Care About Time” that prominently features McGuinn, to the point where his co-lead with Gene is essentially a lead vocal. Seeing how that track never featured on a Byrds album, Geffen licenses it, together with the two tracks that the Byrds cut in 1970 (all recording separately, but still). To make space on the album, Crosby is asked to drop one of his compositions, which he refuses, to no avail. “Long Live The King” is dropped, Crosby’s complaints about the album now being unbalanced remain unheard, with Gene Clark – who brought the strongest material in the first place – profiting even more from the reconfiguration, getting 50 % of the lead vocals. Perhaps a quiet make-up gesture for the shabby way his material was pushed off the first albums (and the shabby way he was pushed out of the band). The new album features a much more prominent Byrds-ian sound and a better distribution of McGuinn’s presence throughout the album.

And so this is what Full Circle - once the working title for the album, but abandoned because Clark hadn't written it for the occasion and didn't want it to come off that way - is. A better version, and a more Byrds-ian album to end the band's run on a higher note. Having the tracks in place, off to the sequencing: Since Gene Clark gets half of the leads (obviously wouldn't have happened in real life, but quality trumps real life here), his tracks are put to alternate with every one else's and the re-instated title track would obviously lead things off. Since I wanted a punchy opening, next is Chris' "Things Will Be Better", which is actually a really nice power-pop number that doesn't deserve the auto-derision its author retrospectively put on it ("Awful stuff."). Then it's time to meet head Byrd Roger, even if "Born To Rock'n'Roll" stays a relative mediocre song. (Chris again: "Terrible. Yuck!")

Crosby's Joni Mitchell cover gets his first apparition out of the way, as the entire Byrds cast is wheeled out one after the other in between Clark's stellar work. Then we end side a with the aforementioned "She Don't Care About Time" which brings more McGuinn to the table. Side B then launches with the lovely "She's The Kind Of Girl" that really brings you back to 1965 (fittingly, since the song was written before the Byrds where even signed), then we hide Hillman's "Borrowin' Time" - admittedly a weaker track - before Crosby's well-done reworking of "Laughing". McGuinn gets to do the folkie-Byrds with "Sweet Marie" before the fearsome fivesome sign off with their greatly underrated take on Neil Young's "(See The Sky) About To Rain", whose glorious coda - mixed startingly louder than the rest of the song - is pure Byrds. 

Full Circle catches The Byrds - at least fleetingly - in their last moments of glory. Further and further removed from the unrealistic expectations heaped upon it in 1973, the album - especially in this version if I dare say so - holds up as a real good listen. See if you agree.   

P.S.: This might be the end of the alternate album Byrds here at One Buck Records, but not the end for its participants showing up here. There will be more Roger McGuinn to come, more Gene Clark of course, and I just finished working on reconfigured versions of the next closest thing to the Byrds: the semi-successful reunion as McGuinn, Clark & Hillman. So, Byrds-fans, as usual, stay tuned...

Back to the roots with All Pearls, No Swine

After having a couple of APNS volumes that strayed into different decades or included a resonable number of reasonably known artists, this version of All Pearls, No Swine goes back to the roots: tons of great tracks from micro-label or self-published artists. Looking at the track list, I'd say maybe Justine (with Laurie Styvers) and the hidden-all star Alpha Band are more widely known, but that's already a bit of a stretch. The rest are very talented folk who never made it particularly big. Oh, and Cheryl Dilcher had two of her albums on A&M, so she's technically a major label artist, I reckon. "Cotton Eye Joe" is from her debut on Ampex, though. And unfortunately those two A&M platters sold nothing, so by album four she was indeed with the self-publishing crowd. And, as the cover might indicate, there's another sense of going back to the roots, as we wander back deeply into country and folk territory, some of the most fertile grounds for pearls from the 1970s. 

If you are a fiend of little to unknown country rock, like your friendly neighbourhood blogger OBG, you'll be happy to find Colorado outfit The Black Canyon Gang looking for "Acapulco Gold". Barry Zell, né Barry Pagliaroli, was part of the - don't laugh - New Jersey country rock scene and was backed on his one record by One Buck Records faves and one-album wonders Lakota. Fellow one-album band Mantra from Montreal mixed folk and country rock influences together, with "Tomorrow Without You" more the former than the latter. Crowfoot (below) are on the outer periphery of country rock, dipping into everything from light psychedelia to soft rock and some folk-ish stuff as well. 

Could these dudes possibly look any more like hippies?

Speaking of folk-ish stuff: U.K. artist Baby Sunshine is Ian Scott Massie who gave up music after one album to focus on writing and watercolour painting. For some more internatioonal flavor we have aussie Gino Cunico (yeah, with that name I would've thought he's from New Jersey, also...) giving the softest of soft-rock treatment to the Goffin-King classic "Goin' Back" and Spanish pop trio Nubes Grises. And back over in ol' Cali, folk-rockers Saltcreek bravely named their first record I, probably in the hopes of many more to come, which unfortunately didn't happen. Folkie Rod Abernethy joined Arrogance as lead guitar player for a while in the late 70s and 80s before becoming a hugely successful composer of music for computer games. His compilation closer "Cavalry" comes from a various local artist compilation LP recorded and issued in Raleigh, North Carolina in 1973.  

So, this is it, folks. All Pearls, No Swine up to its old tricks in its old hunting grounds. Relaxed, countrified sweetness for a warm summer's eve on the back porch, or your living room. Enjoy. 

Ain't it grand time to shill the rubes, David !?

And the David Bowie plastic soul extravaganza continues here at One Buck Records, as here is part two of the David Bowie Young Americans project. And like said in the piece on Young Americans - The Complete Edition, today's One Buck Record is an alternate version of Young Americans, one which does include two of the most famous outtakes from the period: "The Gouster" - which gave Bowie's first configuration of the album its name and a famed outtake that for years was simply a song title with no assurance that the rumored title and song actually existed. This is even more true of "Shilling The Rubes", which for years was only known as a rumored title of the album, but no leaked track that would prove its existence. And yet, "Shilling The Rubes" does indeed exist and is giving this alternate album its title. It is, however, much less polished than many of its brethren from the Sigma sessions, and in order to make it a satisfying track, some surgery had to be performed. "Shilling The Rubes" is clearly a demo that has a guide vocal by the man himself, and at one point he hasn't finished the lyrics yet, and is simply doo-doo-dooing over the melody. That section has been removed, as has been the studio chatter during the last seconds of the music. Now, "Shilling The Rubes" sounds more than ever like a finished song, warts and all. However, the songwriting and production style of "The Gouster" and "Shilling The Rubes" is quite different from the final Young Americans album, so they wouldn't have been a good fit for The Complete Edition.

The third track not on Young Americans - The Complete Edition is Bowie's cover of Springsteen's "It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City". While the other two were left for the above reasons, I didn't include "Saint" because there are - even among Bowie experts - some discussions about its exact provinence. Bowie clearly worked on a version of the song at Sigma, but the two releases it was on list it as a Station To Station outtake, so possibly another version was cut at Cherokee studios, but - as Nicholas Pegg argues - the finished track has a number of Young Americans hallmarks, so most likely the available version is indeed from Sigma studios with possible later overdubs for Station To Station before being re-abandoned again. 

As for the rest of the songs from the album, all of them are alternative versions or mixes. "Young Americans" is presented by what is called The 'Gouster version', though the differences are relatively minimal. The 'Gouster version' of "Right" is quite different though, with some more pronounced guitar work, less emphasis on the sax and the backing choir and a different Bowie vocal in which he doesn't try as hard to be a seductive soul singer. 

"Across The Universe" is presented in a stripped-down mix that takes off most of the instruments to focus on Bowie's admittedly stellar vocals (and Lennon's backing vocals). "I hammered the hell out of it" said the man without a trace of false modesty. "Someone Up There Likes Me" is an unfinished mix that sounds a little sprightlier than the finished version, though I edited down the endless vamp section at the end. Interesting for a different reason is the alternative versions of "Win", which was essentially due to an accident: When prepping the first CD edition of Young Americans, the original 1974 mixes were accidentally swapped out for these 'alternative echo-heavy mixes'. The Ryko Disc remaster from 1991 rectified that error and issued the album in its original form.

The "Young Americans (Reprise)" track was created from an early version of the song with an entirely different, slower but more funk-inspired rhythm. Problem being: That track exists (in public) only as a one-minute snippet, so I did some editing with a bit from the original to turn it into its final form...

So, out of all these disparate ingredients I tried to create a new, fresh look at Young Americans. I think I succeeded, but then again, maybe it is I who is just shilling the rubes... 

Mr. Bowie and his entire plastic soul extravaganza...

It's been a good long while since I posted something involving Mr. David Jones. And last time I did, I previewed doing something with Young Americans, Bowie's soul-inspired interlude in between roughly the Ziggy Stardust and Thin White Duke/Berlin-Trilogy eras. Which is already quite descriptive of Young Americans. Unlike all the projects surrounding it, Young Americans didn't have a big fancy concept or conceipt behind it, it was quote unquote just an album of songs. Which is fine, obviously, though for some Young Americans could never quite shake its reputation as a transitional album, made by an uncertain artist. Which, technically is probably true, but that doesn't lessen the modest pleasures of Young Americans. Not to mention it did what was its unofficial goal: establish Bowie completely in the American market. Before this album Bowie had essentially been a curio, that weird Brit who could place a song or two in the charts and of course had a devoted fan following during the Ziggy years, but hadn't really made much inroads on being a household name or being a constant charts presence. Young Americans changed that.   

Modest pleasures you heard me say? Yes, I wouldn't rate Young Americans as a top Bowie album, and it's not among my favorites, though last time we talked about Bowie one user had it as theirs. But it is a pretty nice diversion - the fact that there isn't some sort of fancy sci-fi or arthouse concept attached might actually work in its favor for some. It's an album purely for pleasure - fitting, since Bowie is trying his hands on Philly Soul, albeit at a typically distanced fashion, thus the term 'plastic soul' he coined himself, pointing out the ersatz nature of the exercise and the fact that a "white limey" (in his own word) was singing soul music, or, rather, some kind of mutated, Bowie-fied version of soul music. 

What changed the trajectory of Young Americans quite a bit was the belated and unexpected presence of one John Winston Lennon. Writing and recording of most tracks had been completed in Philly's fame Sigma studios during two hectic (and cocaine-filled) weeks in August 1974, then in late December Bowie and his crew wrapped up "Win" and "Fascination" at New Tork's Record Plant and the album seemed to be set, with Bowie and Toni Visconti starting to mix the recordings. Lennon was also at the Record Plant, putting the finishing touches on his all-covers album "Rock'n'Roll". The two Brits, who had begun socializing  a year before, went into a one-day recording session at Electric Ladyland to ostensibly record a cover of "Footstompin'", an old doo-wop number that Bowie had already played in concert and where guitar slinger Carlos alomar had developed the beginning of the riff that would turn into "Fame". Rightfully thinking that the riff was too good for a mere cover, Bowie and Lennon wrote and recorded "Fame" on the spot and then - possibly slightly overegging the pudding - Bowie's take on "Across The Universe". 

Bowie called Visconti, who had returned to London the morning of the recording session, somewhat apologetic - both for Visconti missing out on working with Lennon and for the fact that the inclusion of the two new cuts would mean that other completed songs for the album would have to be dropped. This is entirely in the eye of the beholder, but I think he dropped the ball on this one and the wrong tracks from the album. "Who Can I Be Now" and "It's Gonna Be Me" were both taken off the album at the last minute to make space for the Lennon collaborations. Visconti sounded non-plussed about the decision: "Beautiful songs and it made me sick when he decided not to use them". 

On one hand you can argue that the driving "Fame" and his take on "Across The Universe" bring some much needed muscle to an album that otherwise floats by on sometimes interchangeable midtempo grooves. On the other, the two dropped songs were clear highlights of the sessions and I would've rather dropped "Win" and "Right" (or maybe "Can You Hear Me"). Another solution to this conundrum didn't really exist for Bowie in 1975, but it does today here on One Buck Records: Just make the damn thing a double album! Which is of course what Young Americans - The Complete Edition is, a look at how Young Americans would sound like if, instead of replacing those two songs he adds the Lennon-tracks and then rescues his soul-reworking of "John, I'm Only Dancing". That song was clearly dear to him, turning up as the opening track on early mock-ups of the album. When the album was initially dubbed The Gouster in September, it was the opening track, and even in December - when Bowie wanted to call the album Fascination after the then just finished track - it was still in that spot. But it got mercilessly axed, like those two great soul ballads. Throw in "After Today", a disco-soul excursion with Bowie in falsetto mode, and you've got yourself a solid double vinyl album. 

Twelve tracks, spread across four sides at three tracks each, with every side coming in at a little more than 15 minutes - this could have totally worked, even if at aroung 62 minutes it would have been on the shorter side of double albums. Well, it'll be for you to judge what you make of Bowie's plastic soul extravaganza - now longer and better than ever. 

But that isn't all, dear non-paying customer! Young Americans - The Complete Edition is part of a two-tier project. Be back in two days' time for Shilling The Rubes, an alternate album version of Young Americans featuring a different set of outtakes and different versions of the album's songs...

Blue Öyster Cult cause a ruckus...as they damn well should...

Unlike our first group of musical hooligans causing a ruckus at the movies, Blue Öyster Cult weren't quite as busy or involved in providing music for movies. The one huge exception is of course their signature tune "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" which has shown up - credited or uncredited - in about three dozen different films and tv shows. So obviously the Ruckus At The Movies: Blue Öyster Cult edition opens with "Reaper". But since everybody already has (or bloody well should have) that one, I decided to include the re-recording the band did for Cult Classics, an album directly inspired by the public's renewed interest in the band after "(Don't Fear) The Reaper" was so effectively used in the opening of the 1994 The Stand mini-series. Which, incidentally, was also my first brush with BÖC. 

But the band's other film adventures were more modest in nature and sometimes not entirely successful. They were for example asked to provide some songs for the movie Teachers in 1984, which the band dutifully did, writing three relatively Neanderthal-ian shool-themed songs, rhyming rebel with devil etc. I guess they were the knuckleheads of their class. Anyway, somehow the deal fell through and BÖC weren't featured on the soundtrack that had, among others 38 Special, ZZ Top and...uh...Joe Cocker (?!). The three demos the band recorded for Teachers are of course featured here.and, as said, they're pretty good in a 'dumb but fun' way. Probably about as good as the BÖC were gonna be in 1984 - and the fact that they are only demos probably worked out for the best, as they escape the hideous overproduction of The Revolution By Night and Club Ninja. 

This was, in many ways, the second time the band had invested time, money and effort writing and producing music for a film that then...turned out differently. They had written a couple of songs with the hopes of seeing them included in Heavy Metal - The Film, but none of the specifically prepared songs were picked. Instead, the producers chose "Veteran Of The Psychic Wars", a superb sci-fi song. The rest of the songs landed on Fire Of Unknown Origin and form a sort of mini-album within the album. I included the one most obviously made for Heavy Metal: "Vengeance (The Pact)", which recounts the adventures of one of the main stories of the film, Taarna, which is probably and ironically what got it axed in the first place. Oh, also: it is absolutely kick-ass, one of the best of the Cult from the 80s, when the pickings began to get slimmer. 

And finally, there is the BÖC's one time where they were completely in control of a film's music. Unfortunately it was for a complete turd of a film, a cheap Charles Band sc-fi flick called Bad Channels. Fortunately, the band provided not only two heavy metal song to the soundtrack, but also the entire score. Unfortunately, it was almost all incidental music, broken up into often very short bits and thus not a particularly good listen. Fortunately, the One Buck Guy is not gonna let that pass, so I picked what I thought were the best moment of the score and edited them into three suites extravagantly called "Bad Channels Suite". These should be much more satisfying listens.  

So, it was time to get some BÖC on this here blog, and why not with a listen to them causing a ruckus at the movies...

The alt album Byrds series goes farther along...

Now that we enter the true purple period of the Byrds twilight years, it's storytime with Uncle OBG once again, who tells you how things could've gone down way back in the early 1970s...

The year is 1971. The place is L.A. The Byrds have convened during a short break in their immense touring schedule to begin recording their tenth studio album. The sessions did not go as well as for the predecessor. Several Byrds members were distracted, going through divorces. And producer Terry Melcher, a veteran working with the band - having produced their first two albums and the two most recent ones - was in a state of turmoil and torment as well. About two third through the recordings, Terry Melcher, citing 'exhaustion' checks himself into a mental health facility, after years of wine, women and drugs amplified rather than soothed down his (justified) paranoia that the Manson family really was after him when they went on their murder spree. With the sessions unfinished and the Byrds scheduled to go right back on the road, the Byrds strike a deal with Columbia Records: They promise to go back into the studio as soon as possible to finish the album. In the meantime, Columbia gets to pick from the completed Melcher material to issue a stop gap single, but "Glory Glory" b/w "I Want To Grow Up To Be A Politician" doesn't trouble the charts in any way. When the Byrds reconvene in the studio and listen back to the Melcher material, they decide to go in a less elaborate direction and rather try to put the simpler, earthier sound they have on the road on the record. Columbia execs insist that for more commercial viability at least 40% of the album has to come from the Melcher sessions and has to be left with his production intact. The Byrds agree and otherwise proceed to cut the rest of the songs for what will become Farther Along in the summer, with the hybrid album hitting shelves in late 1971... 

Well, things didn't quite go down like this, of course, as Melcher poured on the overdubs on the Byrdmaniax tracks while the band had hit the road again and most of the band - but especially the traditionalist axis of Gene Parsons and Clarence White - were flabbergasted when they heard the results. And their decision to quickly record a more appropriate follow-up later in London in unseemly haste - basic tracking and recording was done in just five days, with most songs written or finished to be written within the same short time frame - was an overreaction to the arch pop excesses of Byrdmaniax. 

But it might have been better if they had gone down like that, as today's alt album easily covers the most problematic stretch in Byrds history. Byrdmaniax is pretty much as awful as everyone says it is. Weak songs and a ridiculously overblown production make for a terrible mix, with the lowest amount of keepers of any Byrds album, which is reflected in my choise of only including five of its tracks in my version of Farther Along. However, and I explained why in my intro to the Byrds alt album series, I love the original Farther Along, so I really only threw off the bad stuff which basically comes down to their super-dull cover of "So Fine" and Gene Parsons' misguided roadie comedy song "B.B. Class Road". "Bristol Steam Convention Blues" is fine, but surplus to requirements since the superior "Green Apple Quick Step" is included. "Precious Kate" was right on the cut line, but some typically lovely guitar playing from Clarence White had it come down on the right side of that line.  

One of the biggest disappointments of the last two CBS Byrds albums is how little Gene Parsons contributed. After having secret or not-so-secret highlights on Ballad Of Easy Rider ("Gunga Din") and (Untitled)/Phoenix ("Yesterday's Train") he had no songs on Byrdmaniax and the two songs he had on the original Farther Along were far from his best. He deserves to be present on this Byrds album that represents the end of his tenure, but I edited "Get Down Your Line" down and shaved off the 'groovy' (or: annoying) ending pretty drastically. Surprisingly, considering his increasing reputation for including wacky novelty songs ill-fitting for the Byrds, Skip Battin gets three songs on my version of Farther Along, the two superior ballads from the two albums, as well as "America's Great National Pastime", which was the last single the CBS band would issue. Johnny Rogan, in his standard work on the Byrds, Timeless Flight Revisited, reserved his biggest scorn for that song, hyperbolically calling its inclusion "inexcusable" and "the severest loss of musical identity the Byrds ever suffered". Dude, what? I think Byrdmaniax's "Tunnel Of Love", a shameless Fats Domino rip-off and seeming Battin solo outing, would qualify as having nothing whatsoever to do with the Byrds sound, whereas "Pastime"'s sound can be somewhat placed in the band's country rock canon. Plus, you know, novelty song or not, the track is endlessly catchy and does have some funny lines. 

McGuinn gets some of the highlights here: Even in compromised form (i.e. heavily overdubbed with a female choir), "I Trust" is an underrated song from the time frame, as is the slighly psychedelic "Antique Sandy" with his doubled lead vocals. "Tiffany Queen" isn't a great song per se, but it's a pretty kick-ass opener and, as "Pale Blue" reminds us, McGuinn always had a hand with ballads.

The real hero, though, is Clarence White this time around, singing Jackson Browne's "Jamaica Say You Will", a song he brought to the group, and while Melcher's orchestral overdubs drown out a bunch of the Byrds, notably Gene Parsons, whose drum skills Melcher found severely lacking, the swirling orchestration makes for a good listen either way. White's cover of Larry Murray's "Bugler", is one of the best recordings of the twilight years Byrds and the clear highlight of any version of Farther Along. Speaking of: The title song, an old hymn brought back into the consciousness of the L.A. country rockers by The Flying Burrito Brothers, is another highlight - just a beautiful way to ride out the career of the CBS Byrds. "Farther Along we'll know more about it...farther along we'll understand why...".

So, the OBG version of Farther Along tries to wring a satisfying album from two not satisfying ones. For the cover art I wanted something that recalled the sepia simpleness of Farther Along's original cover, so I used the image originally used for their second Greatest Hits compilation. The Byrds might not have been at their absolute best in 1971, but a lot of this music is much better than you might think, and the OBG version of Farther Along hopefully proves that...

PS: The run of the CBS Byrds might be over, but the alt album series of The Byrds is not. Coming up: A better version of the 'classic line-up' reunion for Asylum Records...