In July 1968, The Byrds played South Africa without Gram Parsons, who decided that shooting smack with Keith Richards was better than playing segregated Johannesburg, so he essentially fired himself. While GP’s political motives were as much expedient as heartfelt, to his credit he flew the coop on a tour that was by all accounts, “Custer-esque.”
Back on home turf — and without the motivating force behind their just-released album, Sweetheart Of The Rodeo — Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman recruited Clarence White into The Byrds, then fired drummer, Kevin Kelley, and replaced him with White’s former mate in The Reasons (aka Nashville West), Gene Parsons (no relation to Gram). Hillman then reconciled with Gram, left The Byrds, and formed The Flying Burrito Brothers. GP and Hillman then asked White and Parsons to join the Burritos, but the new Byrds decided to remain Byrds. Are you getting all this?!?! We’re having a quiz at the end of the post, so I hope you took notes.
With Hillman now an ex-Byrd, McGuinn and White brought in John York to play bass. It was this new quartet that soon entered the studio with producer Bob Johnston of Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash fame. Here’s an overview of this eventful period in band history.
SUMMER 1968: UPHEAVAL IN THE BYRDS
ork’s hire in late summer brought the cavalcade of personnel turnover to a merciful end. It appears that the post-Hillman Byrds played a warmup gig in Salt Lake City sometime in mid-September. Then, on September 28, the York-era Byrds played Hugh Hefner‘s Playboy After Dark TV show, performing a pair of Bob Dylan songs, “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” and “This Wheel’s On Fire.” To my knowledge, it’s the first documented performance of Clarence playing his StringBender, which you can hear him work to great effect at the beginning of “Nowhere.” I’m reasonably certain this was also the only gig in the band’s career in which scantily clad go-go dancing and brandy snifters figured prominently. So you wanna be a rock ‘n’ roll star, indeed!
Byrds – You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere + This Wheel’s On Fire
Playboy After Dark
September 28, 1968
While Clarence’s guitar work is characteristically brilliant, his playing during the Genghis Khan verse of “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” is subtly spectacular. I also love his playing on “Wheel’s,” especially in the solo (6:00-6:32), because it’s almost like he’s arc welding space-rock guitar effects on top of bluegrass picking. More on this in a bit. “Wheel’s” also shows why enlisting the services of Gene Parsons was a wise decision. He and Clarence were both able to play around the beat and melody, but because of their peculiar telepathy — no doubt earned after hundreds of hours playing together — they rarely stepped on each other’s toes.
LATE 1968 (PT 1): AN ALL-NIGHT MUSICIAN IN A ROCK ‘N’ ROLL BAND
A few weeks after the Playboy shoot, The Byrds returned to the studio to lay down tracks for their new album, Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde. In the producer’s chair was Bob Johnston , whose resume at the time included Bob Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited, Blonde On Blonde, and John Wesley Harding as well as Johnny Cash ‘s Folsom Prison record. Needless to say, The Byrds were geeked for the sessions. Unfortunately, when the album was finally released in February 1969, it would prove to be a commercial, critical, and even intra-band disappointment.
Sales aside — mainly because I’m not sure there’s much connection between good sales and high quality — the perception of disappointment is revealing. For four decades now, critics have heaped abuse on this album as if it were a collection of duck farts and whale songs. At best, it gets a kind of backhanded praise, as if it was some sort of achievement that the record didn’t totally suck. Sure, “Child Of The Universe” is pure filler, the closing medley is nothing special, and the loss of Chris Hillman’s songwriting, harmonies, and ear for melody is undeniable.
But, even taking all these demerits into account, Dr. Byrds wasn’t much different than any other Byrds album to date: There’s a few great songs, some good songs, an instrumental, and a couple of whiffs. Why single this LP out? Also, Hillman’s instrumental prowess notwithstanding, John York was a killer bass player and the upgrade at guitar and drums was substantial. As a working unit, this incarnation of The Byrds was miles ahead of any previous ensemble. How does that not figure into the critical equation.
If there is a villain in the Dr. Byrds saga, someone whose potential wasn’t matched by his performance, it’s producer Bob Johnston. His impressive credentials aside, the greatness of those Dylan and Cash records is their decided lack of production. Those albums didn’t need anything more than the dry sound typical of a stripped-down country band. His job was essentially mic placement, maybe a little EQ, and hitting the ‘Record’ button.
The Byrds, by contrast, offered some unique challenges. They had multiple vocal parts, including three and four-part harmonies, counterpoint guitar parts, and enough layering and overdubbing that the producer needed to be attentive, if not totally hands-on. But alas, as Gene explains in the video below, that producer was nowhere in evidence. Johnston’s final mix was painfully unsympathetic and obscured many of the new band’s strengths.
Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde – An Overview
Leaving aside sales, the original album’s production values, and the lukewarm critical reception, Dr. Byrds — especially in its remastered form — is a strong, if flawed, document of a band entering its latest phase, led by new guitar player and rhythmic focalpoint, Clarence White. Let’s focus on a few of the album’s high points.
Byrds – Your Gentle Way Of Loving Me
Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde, 1969
Recorded October 14, 1968
Amazon
This unassuming country cover is a quietly significant chapter in the Clarence White story. “Gentle Way” was a Bakersfield International single for Gib Guilbeau and Gene Parsons only a year earlier, co-written by Gib and Gary S. Paxton, and featuring The Reasons as backing band. Like “Nashville West,” which also appears on Dr. Byrds, the song functions as an implicit homage to the nearly two years of intense camaraderie forged by The Reasons, when they were studio and road warriors through many “late evening hours.” And on a purely mercenary level, it was a financial boon in the form of publishing credits.
If there were lingering doubts about leaving The Reasons, the Dr. Byrds sessions should’ve quelled any misgivings. Like I said last time, Clarence and Gene were gonna be playing “Nashville West” and “Gentle Way” regardless. By doing so in the context of The Byrds they were getting paid decent money and allowed input into fundamental artistic decisions. This was emphatically true in Clarence’s case, as the new rhythm section was assembled largely upon his recommendation.
Gib & Gene (The Reasons) – Your Gentle Way Of Loving Me
Recorded and released 1967
Amazon
I’ve included the Gib & Gene version of “Gentle Way” for compare-and-contrast purposes. Ironically, while Gib & Gene were at heart a no-frills country act, it’s The Byrds that really accentuate the song’s country flavor. In fact, Paxton’s production gives the G&G track a kind of folk-pop flavor, as if Glen Campbell were being produced by Phil Spector. Meanwhile, The Byrds’ version is almost textbook country-rock, if not simply straight-up country. Clarence clearly benefits from the remastering on Dr. Byrds, as his superlative StringBender work, panned hard right, is far higher in the mix than on the Paxton version, where his acoustic picking is buried. It’s also interesting to compare Gene’s harmonica. Where his playing with Gib is more train-like, his playing on Dr. Byrds (also panned right) is almost a second lead part meant to complement Clarence’s picking. Both versions also feature Paxton’s beloved fuzztone guitar, so I’m pretty sure that’s White in the coda of The Byrds’ version.
Byrds – Drug Store Truck Drivin’ Man
Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde, 1969
Recorded October 8, 1968
Amazon
“He’s been like a father to me
He’s the only DJ you can hear after three
I’m an all night musician in a rock ‘n’ roll band
And why he don’t like me I can’t understand.”
This McGuinn/Gram Parsons co-write was inspired by the band’s 1968 visit to Nashville, where they received contemptuous on-air treatment from hallowed Nashville disc jockey, Ralph Emery. Mr. Emery didn’t truck with no damn hip-eyes toying with his beloved country music — let alone playing the Grand Ole Opry! — and he let them know he didn’t approve. This open-faced suspicion no doubt fuels this masterwork of satire and sarcasm that, to these ears, stands up against any country song from this era. While my first inclination is to compare the song’s byrd-flipping sentiment to a Dylan song like “Positively 4th Street,” Byrdwatcher made an apt comparison: “The song’s broad humor is reminiscent of the work of Ray Davies. Not the subtle wit that characterized his more sympathetic character sketches in the late ’60s, but the heavy-handed mockery in early Kinks songs like ‘Well Respected Man’ and ‘Dedicated Follower of Fashion.'” Word.
Musically, “Drug Store” is a straight country waltz, with Nashville steel ace, Lloyd Green, in the left channel, and Clarence White’s steel-esque StringBender in the right. York mostly plays the bass parts close to the vest, but there’s a few nice McCartney-esque swoops (2:42, 3:22, 3:36). And while McGuinn often gets criticized for the ironic detachment of his country singing, his singing on “Drug Store,” including the high tenor part where he’s harmonizing with himself, totally works for me. I think the personal nature of the material helps. Where it’s safe to say he probably didn’t feel “The Christian Life” in his bones, his dislike for Ralph Emery — or, at least profound displeasure at the way he was treated — comes through. Hey, if bitter resignation ain’t a hallmark of country music, I don’t know what is!
LATE 1968 (PT 2): SESSION MAN AGAIN
The basic tracks for Dr. Byrds were cut during a handful of October and December sessions. In between, Clarence sat in with some familiar faces.
Wynn Stewart – Run Away
Let The Whole World Sing It With Me, 1969
Recorded October 10, 1968
Amazon
On October 10, White recorded three songs with Wynn Stewart, two of which would appear on Stewart’s 1969 Let The Whole World Sing It With Me LP. One of those, “Run Away,” is a textbook two-step, written and arranged with the dance floor in mind, and the kind of throwback honky-tonk song that established Bakersfield as the original “Nashville West.” The song is distinguished by superior interplay between Clarence and Ralph Mooney, Wynn’s longtime steel guitarist. The White-Moon exchanges between :45-1:14 are a high point, but throughout the song they showcase their impeccable sidemen credentials, accenting and coloring with respect for each others space and always in service to the song.
It’s probably worth noting that Moon was one of the architects of the Bakersfield Sound and outlaw country, having served in Stewart’s band in the ’50s and ’60s and in Waylon Jennings‘ band in the ’70s and ’80s. Oh, and in between all those gigs were sessions with Buck Owens and Merle Haggard. Yeah, I guess that’s a decent country résumé.
Gib Guilbeau (w/The Reasons) – Home Of The Blues
Toe Tappin’ Music, 1978
Recorded late 1968
Discogs
Released in October, almost simultaneous with Ballad, was the new single by Clarence’s old buddy and former bandmate, Gib Guilbeau. A cover of Johnny Cash’s Sun single, “Home Of The Blues,” the song boasted all four Reasons, as well as Red Rhodes on steel guitar, and possibly Glen D. Hardin on piano.
Featuring Clarence’s jaw-dropping intro riff, “Home Of The Blues” was backed with CCR’s “Lodi,” and is one of the obscure country-rock gems from this era. Sadly, its obscurity stems from the fact that it was released on a label (Strawberry Records) that even the principals involved might have trouble remembering. Too bad, because White’s StringBender work is exemplary, especially in concert with Rhodes’ steel parts.
Speaking of Rhodes, like Clarence he was a hired gun on Notorious Byrd Brothers, though they didn’t actually play together. Rhodes also designed the fuzz box that Clarence played through and his impact on White’s gear at this time may have been more significant.
According to the Burrito Brother C White fan page, “After recording the Ballad Of Easy Rider album, the neck pickup was replaced by one from a Strat. It may have been rewound by Red Rhodes who was a well known steel player in California as well as being an amplifier expert. Red rewound the neck pickup which may have included an extra boost coil. There a number of theories about Clarence’s pickups and how he changed them but not much has been confirmed. It seems that he used Red’s Velvet Hammer pickups for some time.”
Gib Guilbeau (w/The Reasons) – Louisiana Woman
Toe Tappin’ Music, 1978
Recorded late 1968
Discogs
Late in ’68, The Byrds’ rhythm section hooked up with Gib Guilbeau, in what basically amounted to a reunion of The Reasons (with York replacing Wayne Moore). In fact, depending upon your perspective, it was also an alternative version of The Byrds, with Guilbeau in the McGuinn role. John York recalls, “I remember doing some sessions with Clarence White, Gene Parsons, and Gib Guilbeau in a studio in Hollywood in late 1968. On the north side of a group of offices called ‘Crossroads Of The World’ on Sunset Boulevard. The song that sticks in my mind was called ‘Louisiana Woman.’ There were others that I don’t recall at the moment.” As it happens, the studio York refers to here is Darrell Cotton’s Ion Records, the same place where a couple years earlier Clarence met Gib and Gene during Darrell’s “Don’t Pity Me” sessions. You may recall this from the beginning of my Clarence White and the Rise of Nashville West: 1966-67 post.
“Louisiana Woman” could’ve easily fit on any Byrds album between Dr. Byrds and Untitled — which we’ll get to in a few weeks. A laid-back, almost textbook country-rock song, it’s distinguished by CW’s StringBender riff and forms a nice companion piece to Ballad Of Easy Rider‘s “Tulsa County” in form and Untitled‘s “Lover On The Bayou” in cajun-centrism.
THIS WHEEL SHALL EXPLODE
Byrds – This Wheel’s On Fire [Version One]
Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde, 1997 Reissue
Recorded December 4, 1968
Amazon
If songs like “Gentle Way” and “Drug Store” — not to mention “Old Blue” and “Nashville West” — represented the album’s Dr. Byrds, it was songs like “Wheel’s” that represented its Mr. Hyde. Conceptually, the idea made sense. Sweetheart was a country album, Clarence White and Gene Parsons were excellent country players, and on a fundamental level, they’d cast their lot with country and it was too late to back out now. On the other hand, The Byrds cut their teeth on rock music. Folk-rock, psychedelic-rock, country-rock, and yes, space-rock were all part of the band’s colorful history and there was no reason to alienate their fanbase by moving away from that sound. So, the album was a self-conscious acknowledgment of the band’s bipolarity and it was borne out in the packaging, which included photos of the band as both cowboys (Dr. Byrds) and spacemen (Mr. Hyde).
In this context, I think no song better reflects the Hyde portion of their personality better than “This Wheel’s On Fire,” sonic kin to some of Creedence’s heaviest, swampiest material circa 1968-69 (“I Put A Spell On You,” “Born On The Bayou,” “Keep On Chooglin'”). If The Byrds are to be faulted for anything, it’s that they chose the weaker, slower version of the song to leadoff the album. The first version is leaner, has a clearer separation of instruments, and McGuinn doesn’t sound like he’s fighting a cold. But the difference-maker in Version One is Clarence White, especially in tandem with York, whose whiplash basslines work perfectly with Clarence’s guitar to give the song a swirling, moody tension. There’s two guitar parts, with White obviously in the right channel, and another, heavily-reverbed guitar in the left that could either be McGuinn or White. I suspect it’s McGuinn for no other reason than it doesn’t have any of Clarence’s hallmark stylings.
Regardless, as with the Playboy filming, White’s right-channel playing is the perfect synthesis of Byrds and Hyde, of space and cowboy, of country and rock. His picking features the syncopation and behind-the-beat phrasing that was a cornerstone of his electric playing from the start, but had its roots in bluegrass with The Kentucky Colonels. And while he’s playing through a fuzzbox like many rock guitarists, the development of the StringBender added a totally unique pedal steel dimension to his playing. Its effect is apparent throughout “Wheel’s”, especially from 1:33 on, and in the solo from 1:56-2:10. In a sense, the creation of the StringBender merely accentuated White’s tendency to work around a song’s basic rhythm, playing with dynamics even more dramatically than he did before, giving him greater melodic and harmonic freedom.
This is why early on in the Chronicles I compared Clarence to bebop icons, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, though I could have also compared him to guitar innovator, Charlie Christian. Dig this passage about Christian in Wikipedia:
“(Charlie) Christian commonly emphasized weak beats and off beats, and … experimented with asymmetrical phrasing, which was to become a core element of the new bop style. Swing (pre-bop) improvisation was commonly constructed in two or four bar phrases that corresponded to the harmonic cadences of the underlying song form. Bop improvisers would often deploy phrases over an odd number of bars, and overlap their phrases across bar lines and across major harmonic cadences. Such new rhythmic phrasing techniques give the typical bop solo a feeling of floating free over the underlying song form, rather than being tied into the song form.”
–From “Bebop History”
If Clarence’s country-rock bebop was hinted at in his recorded output, it was astonishingly evident on stage. So, when The Byrds finally hit the road in late January 1969 — about a week before the release of Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde — CW’s live prowess quickly grew in legend and guitarists everywhere soon joined the Clarence White Fan Club. Here’s John York commenting on this hilarious, if understandable, phenomenon.
Clarence White and the “Wall of Guitar Players” + StringBender Tutorial
FEBRUARY 1969: LIVE AT THE FILLMORE
“The greatest thing about Clarence was that he never played anything that sounded vaguely weak or like a mistake. He was always driving — INTO the music — and that pulled the whole band up. He had that conservative thing from bluegrass, where you underplay it on stage, where everybody pokerfaces it. He would do these truly outrageous things on guitar, but hardly move a muscle, aside from his hands. But, he was very conscious of his showmanship. He was evolving into his own kind of Jimi Hendrix flamboyance.”
–Roger McGuinn, from the Live At The Fillmore West liner notes
On February 6, The Byrds pulled into San Francisco for a four-night stand at Fillmore West. They didn’t realize it then, but they were embarking on what would be an almost uninterrupted 3 1/2 year tour of clubs, ballrooms, concert halls, armories, field houses, high schools, colleges, and festivals in most of the continental United States, Canada, and Europe. Their transformation from innovative studio band into rode-hard touring band was a remarkable act of artistic redefinition, one which has been almost universally ignored by rock historians. Read their biography in All Music Guide or Wikipedia and you’ll have zero idea that beginning in early ’69, The Byrds were a live band first and foremost. If anything, you get AMG’s casual dismissal of anything post-Sweetheart Of The Rodeo: “Although McGuinn kept the Byrds going for about another five years with other musicians (most notably former country picker Clarence White), essentially the Byrds name was a front for Roger McGuinn and backing band.”
Granted, the setlists weren’t varied all that much from night to night and even at their best, it wasn’t like anyone would mistake The Byrds for high-wire acts like The Who, MC5, or hell, Jerry Lee Lewis. But, the band was doing their formidable catalog justice, evolving into a tight-knit working unit, and besides, it wasn’t like Merle Haggard and George Jones were playing guitars with their teeth and knocking over drumkits. Cut these dudes some slack!
Byrds – You’re Still On My Mind
Live At The Fillmore: February 1969, 2000
Recorded February 7-8, 1969
Amazon
Byrds – Close Up The Honky Tonks
Live At The Fillmore: February 1969, 2000
Recorded February 7-8, 1969
Amazon
Byrds – Buckaroo
Live At The Fillmore: February 1969, 2000
Recorded February 7-8, 1969
Amazon
Take away Clarence White’s explosions of inventiveness and The Byrds sound like any number of country outfits playing the southern California honky-tonk circuit in 1969. However, when you factor in White on StringBender — let alone McGuinn on 12-string — you have one of the finest distillations of country tradition meeting rock futurism ever committed to tape. There’s CW’s fearless solo in “You’re Still On My Mind” (:37-1:10), his elastic command of the space-time continuum in “Close Up The Honky Tonks” (1:10-1:41), and the wild chicken pickin’, quirky accents, and syncopation throughout “Buckaroo,” including the trusty old nut pull (1:30). Also, if you recall my previous CW Chronicles post, the idea of the StringBender was hatched at the Sanland Brothers’ session for “Vaccination Of The Blues.” Clarence actually plays that song’s staccato intro riff at 1:40 of “Buckaroo.” So good.
Byrds – King Apathy III
Live At The Fillmore: February 1969, 2000
Recorded February 7-8, 1969
Amazon
To address the band’s binary tendencies in one fell swoop — i.e. Byrds and Hyde — here’s a Dr. Byrds song that masterfully mixes 4/4 rock verses with 2/4 country bridges, similar to “Change Is Now” from Notorious Byrd Brothers. I like David Fricke‘s description of Clarence’s intro in the Fillmore West liner notes as “an opening slalom break lightly ringed with distortion.” “Slalom break” is a vivid description of so many CW guitar parts, and it’s probably not a coincidence that it echoes Wikipedia’s description of the typical bop solo as “a feeling of floating free over the underlying song form.” Needless to say, White’s floating, slaloming, and applause-inducing solo from 1:27-1:57 is one of the album’s many Clarence White highlights.
Byrds – Eight Miles High [Excerpt]
Live At The Fillmore: February 1969, 2000
Recorded February 7-8, 1969
Amazon
This song was famously inspired by John Coltrane’s modal jazz piece, “India,” which was itself inspired by the saxophonist’s earlier work with Miles Davis. All Music Guide describes the structure of modes as such: “Modal music had a subtle tension produced by the fact that the solo lines, while melodic, didn’t always progress or resolve exactly as the listener was accustomed to hearing; plus, every time a new mode was introduced, the tonal center shifted, keeping the listener just off balance with a subtle unpredictability.”
While the “Eight Miles High” medley on Fillmore West is almost 10 minutes long and there’s really no need to occupy that much cyberspace, this 1:29 excerpt distills the essence of its greatness. With McGuinn’s 12-string improvising around the song’s main riff in the right channel, Clarence hypnotically riffs in the left channel, until unleashing a firestorm of a solo at the :44 mark. When McGuinn says that White “was evolving into his own kind of Jimi Hendrix flamboyance,” his playing on “Eight Miles High” had to be what he had in mind. If Hendrix was taking chitlin circuit R&B to Neptune, Clarence White was bringing the Bakersfield Sound to Mars.
NEXT TIME: EASY RIDING IN ’69
Next time in the CW Chronicles, we’ll finish out 1969, including work on Ballad Of Easy Rider, more touring, a gig with some special friends, and more session work.
Now you’re into that era when I finally got to see the Byrds…they appeared at my school, Muhlenberg College in the fall (September) of 1970 OPENING for Santana, who at the time were riding high on their post-Woodstock run and I believe the second LP had just come out with Black Magic Woman, so they were the headliners.
I managed to get the okay to do the interview/review of the concert for our school paper (I’m sure I have it SOMEWHERE…I’ll start looking and see if I can find it and scan it in and pass it along…don’t hold your breath). I didn’t really care much about the Santana segment (though I was willing to listen and enjoy it as I had both LPS…you had to in those days) and I purposefully did NOT take a date so I coulde slip away from my seat and go back stage after the first set with the Byrds, because I was a HUGE fan.
They were brilliant, just brilliant. Everything you heard listening later to ‘Untitled’ (especially when it got expanded on CD) and the Fillmore West CD. The guitar work has stayed with me forever. I remember thinking it didn’t sound much like the’Old Byrds’ I loved, especially The Sweetheart and Notorious Era Byrds, BUT 8 Miles High went on FOREVER and there were old songs I recognized like ‘Take A Whiff On Me’ and ‘Old Blue’ and others I knew from the LPs I loved with guitar parts I recalled and Clarence seemed even cooler than McGuinn (was that possible?) onstage. I also remember being VERY impressed with Gene Parsons playing harmonica and drums simultaneously during “That’s All Right, I’m Only Bleeding” which medleyed into “Ballad of Easy Rider”. (I Don’t know if this is true or a false memory…but do I remember him playing trumpet, too during 8 Miles High? or have I got it mixed up with another drummer from another band somewhere down the line) In fact I remember later being disappointed when the same exact sequence wasn’t repeated on “The Ballad of Easy Rider” LP. Oh, yes, by the time I saw them, John York had departed and been replaced by Skip Battin. I don’t think it could have been more than a few weeks into his tenure with them.
I slipped into the gymnasium locker room after their set and met the band, nervous and wanting to be accepted as ‘one in the know’. I wish I could recall what I talked to them about. I do remember talking to Clarence briefly about the Burritos and Sneaky Pete (I was obsessed with the sound of a steel guitar at the time) and I remember him pulling out a small black address book and offering to give me Pete Kleinow’s phone # and address. I was flabbergasted that he would give me that much trust that fast and declined. I had a poster of the band I bought at the concert that I had them all sign . (It was purloined a couple of years later from a record store where I worked and had it hanging along with my Teenset Magazine Buffalo Springfield poster, ARrrgh!)I also remember smoking a huge joint with McGuinn back at my dorm room (500 feet from the gym back door)where I played him a cut or two of Craig Anderton’s psychedelic band Mandrake Memorial LP Puzzle [on Poppy]that also featured psych 12 string guitar (I was enamoured as much of the 12 string sound at the time). We returned to the concert and briefly watched Santana from the wings before he slipped away with the rest of the band.
I love your posts on Clarence. Question. Where are you getting all the session data re: Wynn Stewart? I’d really like to know as there are a few of us here that are also huge Wynn fans (just plain huge West Coast Bakersfield Country nuts, that is). I pulled those few you have highlighted out at one of our last listening sessions and BLEW minds! I need MORE! Thanks SO much.
Duncan
Damn straight, Duncan. GREAT story! Love to hear that the band was accommodating, ingratiating, and smoke-worthy. HA! Hey, if you can find your review and scan it, I’ll gladly post it. Would make for a helluva time capsule.
I’m not sure about Gene playing trumpet. I know he played/plays a gang of instruments, but I don’t think that extends into brass. I could be wrong. As far as I know, the only trumpets The Byrds played with were whoever they got to do Hugh Masakela’s “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star” part.
As for the Wynn dates, a buddy of mine used to write for No Depression and somewhere along the line acquired the Bear Family box, which has all info. He made for me a single-disc comp of White’s dates with Stewart, including rec dates and personnel. However, a little interwebs research has yielded this site – http://www.hairbybruno.at/wynn.htm – which correctly notes that the date he marked as 5/1/68 was actually 5/1/69. Off by one year. So, I’ve edited my previous post, which included “Goin’ Steady,” and will repost it next time. Details details.
This is a great series, with great music and interesting asides. Thanks – I’m looking forward to the next in the series.
For way too long I’ve not taken the time to comment but I want to thank you for these comprehensive posts. I only knew of CW as a sort of postscript to my basic knowledge of the Byrds before finding your blog. I don’t know where you find the time to do it but WOW! In the archives at http://unclegil.blogspot.com/ there’s Nashville West, Kentucky Colonels, and the White Brothers for those newbies like me that want to hear more.
Thanks again!
Thanks man. I don’t know where I find the time either. What can I say, it’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it!
Thanks for all this Clarence White info. Excellent job. I’m looking forward to the Ballad of Easy Rider part.
Gene
These Clarence White posts are something close to monumental; in terms of scope, research, and involvement. Beautiful.
Wow. High praise and I’ll take it. Heh heh. It’s fun stuff. Challenging, a pain in the butt, but very rewarding. I’m glad you like it. Since 1969 is my birth year, I’m enjoying the preparation for my next post. Should be up in the next couple of weeks.
Hate to be late getting back and reading your reply, but my job and crazy comkputer habits sometimes prevent me from checking out the replies. Iam still looking for the articles I wrote back then. I’n hoping I can find them as I do believe there is at least one picture accompanying the article also.
Just read your latest post. Excellent as usual. First time I’ve EVER seen the Everlys 45 sleeve…what’s the backside look like…the same with the other title? We wore that one out back in the early seventies…my buddies and I played “On My Way Home Again” for quite a while. I can probably still sing the song and remember the lyrics after all these years, though I don’t think I have in a dozen years or so. I’ll get back to you on that.
Duncan, the Everlys 45 is a picture of a Dutch import I found on Richard Russell’s Byrdmaniax Discography Pages. An awesome resource for all things Clarence. Not sure what the back looks like, but I’d be surprised if it was anything other than plain blue.
As a Clarence White fan, I noticed that he has October 9, 1968 penned in by various reputable sources, as session dates for the Byrds, Wynn Stewart and Linda Ronstadt, and a lot of early October seems to be a fair amount of clashing sessions. One must assume that Whitey got a chance to sneak in on Byrds break and add parts, or some sessions were off the regular hours with the Byrds. The only problem there is that some of those nights in October were taken up with the Byrds playing the Whisky on October 9-12. Columbia was strict on session times, so weekend work was free, and to be honest most of these session credits have surfaced after being researched from record label archives and the Local 47 Musicians Union. (not by me, but reliable sources to be sure). And Jimmi Seiter has detailed Whitey’s work on those October session with the Byrds. He even detailed the breakdown of each session, as Columbia broke their sessions into two or three different sections each day.
So, I’m not writing to say I tend to think that anyone’s wrong, but just to have someone else soak in the thought that Whitey played sessions all day, and if the studios were neatly lined up in a row in Hollywood, he probably would have played even more.
And to Duncan Music, a lot of the Wynn Stewart info has been purloined by others (and myself) from the Wynn Stewart box set, which details as much info as existed in the various Musicians Union and original session logs. Not all labels kept such awesome records, but Capitol did, at least in regards to the masters and sessions they financed, not so much masters they bought from various producers over the years. [eg: Gary Paxton]
J.
Excellent comment Jason. I’m totally in agreement with you. One thing I’ve tried to convey with all my Clarence White posts is that the minutiae of recording information is always ideal, but that we should also maintain the 30,000 foot view. That is, Clarence was such an indispensable part of the country-rock scene and here’s multiple examples of that. So, while I’d love an exact date for all of his sessions, it’s just as important to appreciate the fact he worked his ass off to create such a unique legacy.