... And I Couldn't Even Talk To You

"At one point my wife and I had a mild misunderstanding. I wouldn't even call it a fight. She was miffed, taking our young son out, wishing I'd be a little more involved. But there I was, the musician manic and possessed, holding everything up. Without me, it all collapses, so I'm feeling quite put upon. As she walks out the door, I say to myself, 'I wrote a song for everyone and I couldn't even talk to you.' It was actually a true emotion that took on a larger meaning. It's still a special song in the sense that it keeps my feet on the ground. You sit and write these songs, yet you try to talk to your own son and daughter and maybe you're totally inadequate, trying to explain life to a child."
--John Fogerty, 1997



Mavis Staples and Jeff Tweedy take a playful spin through the Fogerty songbook, that glorious intersection of country, soul, rock 'n' roll, and gospel. If anyone asks, this is American music.

Dedicated with love to my daughter, Leilani.

Clarence White: Roadmaster: 1972 (Pt. 10)

How good was Clarence White on guitar?
He knocked out this dude purely with awesomeness!

1972 was a bit of a transition year for Clarence White. Even though The Byrds were still a going concern, most of their touring commitments were completed by May. Meanwhile, Roger McGuinn was negotiating an original Byrds reunion, which ultimately proved to be a pointless exercise in brand name shuffling. However, the year began with an impressive "country suite" from the band.



Clarence also appeared on a number of sessions, including his third straight Arlo Guthrie album (Hobo's Lullaby). Here he kicks things off with his usual monster riffage and offers an understated solo from :47-1:01.

Arlo Guthrie - Mapleview (20%) Rag
Clarence White: acoustic lead guitar
Byron Berline: fiddle
Doug Dillard: banjo
Arlo Guthrie or Jim Dickinson (?): piano
Roger Bush: acoustic bass
Jim Keltner: drums

Really though, this track is all about the ensemble, and it features a veritable Mount Rushmore of progressive bluegrass. White, Berline, Dillard, and Bush all helped bridge twang and rock in the late '60s and early '70s and you'd be hard-pressed to find four more significant figures in west coast bluegrass. Add in the mighty Jim Keltner on drums and either Arlo (pictured above) or Jim Dickinson on piano ... it could be either, but my money is on Guthrie ... and you have two minutes of instrumental bliss.

I'M A TRAVELING GUITAR PICKER

Gene Clark - Roadmaster

Roadmaster is a compilation of Gene Clark tracks recorded between 1970 and 1972, with contributions from various Byrds, Burrito Brothers, our old friend Byron Berline, and of course, CW. The most surprising name involved in the sessions is Spooner Oldham, who lends his funky electric piano to the title track. Clarence weaves in and out with atypically bluesy riffs, including a double-tracked guitar solo from 2:39-2:58.

Skip Battin - Ballad Of Dick Clark

The Byrds bassist from 1969-73, "Dick Clark" comes from his 1972 solo debut. Honestly, if Clarence White wasn't shredding all over this song (and album), it would be entirely forgettable. What can I say? As a songwriter, Skip Battin was a hell of a bass player. Sorry Skip fans. If I wanted to hear novelty songs, I wouldn't have given away my Weird Al Yankovic vinyl collection.

LOST MY DRIVIN' WHEEL

Whatever The Byrds' deficiencies as a functioning band, they entered the studio a few times with decent results. Unfortunately, the two songs that were pretty good remained buried in the vaults until 2000, when Farther Along was reissued on CD with bonus tracks.

Byrds - Lost My Drivin' Wheel
Rec date: January 12, 1972

"Drivin' Wheel" is a cover of obscure Canadian folksinger, David Wiffen, whose original, released in 1971, was simply titled, "Driving Wheel." If I had to guess, I'd say that McGuinn got turned onto the song via Tom Rush, who covered the song while opening for The Byrds in '72. Good song, solid arrangement, McGuinn sings with purpose, and Clarence (panned left) is on fire. In fact, it sounds less like The Byrds than it sounds like Dylan's New Morning album or Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers covering The Byrds. It also sounds like a song that My Morning Jacket should be covering.

Byrds - Bag Full Of Money
Rec date: August 1972

"I wanna get out of country music. I've always gone through a lot of different bags of music, mostly because I don't want to be classified. I guess I'll always be an experimental folk musician of some sort. (I want to get into) more rock 'n' roll, man, and synthesizer, like, well, back to where we left off at Notorious Byrd Brothers. That's what I want to get into. I know I'm capable of it, it's just I feel that I've been loaded down by people who weren't sympathetic or tolerant of that in me."
Roger McGuinn, Crawdaddy!, 1972

Written by McGuinn and Jacques Levy, "Bag" comes from the last Byrds session to feature McGuinn, White, and Battin. On drums is John Guerin (pictured left), who replaced Gene Parsons in June, and on pedal steel is studio whiz, Buddy Emmons. What's interesting to me is that while McGuinn publicly disavowing his country direction, "Bag" proves that it was a genre for which he was ideally suited. In fact, with the benefit of hindsight, his bandmates were doing him a favor by poo-pooing his ridiculous excursions into synth-rock, especially knowing what we know about the synthesizer's impact on '70s rock. Or, does McGuinn feel cheated that he wasn't able to beat Mannheim Steamroller to the punch? And as I've pointed out previously, whose fault is it that he all but stopped writing songs? Battin's songs were mostly terrible, but at least he was trying his best. What was McGuinn's excuse? Oh right, his bandmates "weren't sympathetic or tolerant." That makes sense.

STORIES WE COULD TELL

Everly Brothers - I'm Tired Of Singing My Songs In Las Vegas

"I've been wanting to quit for three years now and it's finally time to just do it. I'm tired of being an Everly Brother. I still like to sing 'Bye Bye Love' sometimes, but I don't want to spend my life doing it. I've got to find something else."
--Don Everly, 1973

Clarence renewed his association with the Everly Brothers for their solid 1972 album, Stories We Could Tell. Here he's panned right, offering up a bevy of sweet bender licks that counterpoint John Sebastian's harmonica riffs, panned left. In fact, Sebastian not only wrote the brilliant title track, but the album was recorded in his living room (pictured below).

L-R: John Sebastian, Paul Rothschild (producer), Phil Everly, Don Everly

"Las Vegas" was written by songwriter, Dennis Linde, but it could've easily been written by either Phil or Don, perfectly summing up their boredom and frustration with the nostalgia circuit, let alone each other. This frustration culminated in their initial break-up about a year later. In fact, it's a very eerie coincidence that their final show took place at Knott's Berry Farm in Buena Park, California, on Saturday, July 14, 1973. A few hours later and about 90 miles away, Clarence White was killed by a drunken asshole outside of BJ's in Palmdale. To my knowledge, no one else has noted the geographical and historical proximity between the last Everlys gig and the last Clarence gig, but there it is.

Before we move on to 1973, let's revisit the Byrds at their acoustic best. This video claims it's from 1972, but I think it's actually from May 1971. If so, please indulge me.



NEXT TIME: THE TRAGIC DEATH OF A MUSICAL GENIUS

Don Rich Redux

Since it's clear the Adios Lounge hosts a formidable Don Rich fan club, here's a few more nuggets from the vault. And when I say nuggets, I'm talking pure gold. Enjoy.



A surprisingly excellent Rich bio courtesy of his ... high school alumni association??? True. Great footage, fleshes out Rich's background, but it's mildly depressing that the most thorough overview of Don Rich's life and career is the product not of a music production company or anything "Hall of Fame-y," but of the sons and daughters of Oly? Thank God for the youtube.



Interesting thing about "Guitar Pickin' Man" is that it was actually written by Wayne Moore, Clarence White's old bassist in The Reasons (aka Nashville West). In fact, CW played on Moore's original 1967 recording during his stint with Gary S Paxton at Bakersfield International. How likely is it that Rich learned of this song through White? I'd say likely.

Says Gene Parsons: "Clarence was a big fan of Don Rich and Don was a big fan of Clarence's. Later, Don came to some sessions when we were in The Byrds. He was a really nice guy, great guitar player and singer."



Are you kidding me? This is so good and I can't believe I didn't know of its existence until RJ pointed it out to me a few days ago. Sweet ghost of Rick Danko, this is a king harvest of badass.

Don Rich: Buckersfield Harmony

"Don Rich was the quintessential driving force behind Buck Owens. His lead guitar, fiddle playing, and soulful tenor made the Buckaroos the premier band in country music in the '60s and early '70s. When a guy loses his best friend/sidekick, life is never the same."
--Chris Hillman

"Don was to country music what James Burton was to early rock and roll. Don's guitar work made 'city boys' really listen to California country music. Buck was a lucky guy!"
--Herb Pedersen

While working on my Clarence White: 1972 piece, it occurred to me that Don Rich, Buck Owens' right-hand man for 14 years (1960-74), died in a motorcycle accident almost a year to the day after White was killed by a drunk driver. Clarence White: July 15, 1973. Don Rich: July 17, 1974. Had he lived, Rich's 69th birthday would've been next week (he was born August 15, 1941). Since everyday is a good day to be reminded of "Dangerous" Don's genius, let's get our twang on.

Don Rich was as important as Buck Owens in creating the Bakersfield Sound, one of the few sustained commercial alternatives to Nashville. If California country music had a tipping point, it was Buck and Don throwing down hit after hit in the 1960s. Rich was one of country music's most distinctive guitar players and tenor harmony singers, and a solid fiddler to boot.

I think harmony is the key word in explaining the Don Rich magic. I'm not just talking about vocal harmonies, but harmony on multiple levels: vocals, guitar, songwriting, temperament, you name it. For example, Rich was a decent enough singer on his own, but his own songs could veer cornball. In harmony with Owens, though, Rich's voice was pure gold. Dig it.


The Buck Owens Ranch Show, March 15, 1966

This harmony extended to guitar. People forget that Buck was a hotshot guitar badass throughout the 1950s and that Don joined him mainly as a singer/fiddler. Once Don heard those sweet Tele licks, though, there was a change of plans.

"He was younger than I was by a few years. He was learning to play the guitar in an odd way; he was sweating Ray Charles. He was learning chords that were normally not played on guitar; they came off the keyboard of Ray Charles. He worked hard at it in the camper in between dates. He was only 17 at the time and his drive, and his awareness of the fact that he had a lot of learn, was there. He was, I think, the most important person in Buck Owens' life."
--Merle Haggard

He willed himself to become the Telesattva, taking over lead guitar duties from Buck, and subsequently inspiring thousands of budding twangologists. Many guitar players have been faster, but I'll put Don Rich's sweet tone and sense of economy against any of them. Put it this way ... do you know anyone who doesn't like Rich, given even the slightest exposure? I can see Buck Owens not being in a country fan's all-time Top 5. Barely, but an argument can be made. But not liking Don Rich??? Not an option. In fact, I'll put the classic 1964-66 Buckaroos lineup ... Owens: vocals, guitar; Rich: guitar, vocals, fiddle; Tom Brumley: steel guitar; Doyle Holly: bass; Willie Cantu: drums ... against any country band ever and I think they'd do all right.


The Jimmy Dean Show, 1966


The Jimmy Dean Show, 1966

These clips from The Jimmy Dean Show are primary evidence of Buck Owens and The Buckaroos at their apex. Perfect harmonies, great guitar sound, badass rhythm section, and Brumley really steps up on steel, but Rich is the glue. I love that beat-up Tele with the "Don Rich" sticker. I wonder if it still exists? Please say yes. By the way, did you know that Jim Henson got his first real break on the Jimmy Dean Show? True story. Rowlf the Dog wanted you to know that.


Hee Haw, August 24, 1969 (exactly 21 days after I was born ... I'm sure you feel better knowing that)

You may notice that Brumley isn't on steel for the Buckaroos. That position is occupied by Jay Dee Maness, a SoCal kid whose resume in 1969 included the International Submarine Band and Sweetheart Of The Rodeo. Not bad. His presence here actually carbon-dates the performance as he only played with Buck for a few months in the summer and fall of '69, his brief stint coinciding with the first 10 or so Hee Haw broadcasts. In 1986, Maness joined Chris Hillman and Herb Pedersen in The Desert Rose Band.

The drummer on "Buckaroo" is Jerry Wiggins, who replaced Cantu in 1967, and stayed with Owens until 1978. Here he damn near cops Milt Turner's rhumba beat on "What I'd Say." Wasn't Merle mentioning something about Ray Charles??? Yeah, thought so.

Buck Owens - Second Fiddle

"I don't know whether (Don) was ever appreciated as he should have been as a fiddle player. We'd do 'Second Fiddle' on the show, and boy, tears would just come to my eyes as he played. And they would (come to) his eyes, too! He just played with such feeling, heart and soul."
--Tom Brumley

"I honestly believe (Don) was a better fiddle player than he was a guitarist, and he was a GREAT guitarist. But he played FANTASTIC fiddle. He didn't like to play fiddle, because his mother and father made him take lessons from the time he was five or six years old, and all he did in his formative years was play fiddle! Don could hold his (own against) the top fiddlers in the country. I'm talking about a lot of the old guys, even the Bob Wills-style fiddlers."
--Jerry Wiggins


The Buck Owens Ranch Show, August 17, 1970

As with any tragic death, it's easy to caught up in the what ifs. But, the musical loss represented by Rich's death was deceptive. It wasn't just that his career was over. Buck's career, for all intents and purposes, also ended in July 1974. The twin architects of the Bakersfield Sound, effectively silenced. Sure, in the years to follow Buck would trot out the hits every now and then and there were television, radio, Crystal Palace, and other responsibilities. But, that was business. The love and passion that drove Buck Owens to become the best guitarist, singer, songwriter, bandleader, and the undisputed King of Bakersfield ... aka Buckersfield ... died with Don Rich.

"What can I share with you about Don Rich? There was only one and I doubt there will ever be another. He was a one-of-a-kind musician and as great as he was, he was even better as a human being. Something I never said before, maybe I couldn't, but I think my music life ended when his did. Oh yeah, I carried on and I existed, but the real joy and love, the real lightning and thunder, was gone forever. But ... I'll see him over there."
--Buck Owens, who rejoined Don on March 25, 2006