David Crosby: If I Could Only Remember My Name - 1971
Like all David Crosby’s work, this, his first solo album from 1971, is an automatic de-stresser. It should be available on prescription. It is the musical equivalent of putting some tiger balm on your forehead.
The album is comparatively sparse, lyrically, but is big on laid-back, almost trippy atmosphere. Music Is Love is a dreamy, initially acoustic opener, featuring Neil Young and Joni Mitchell (pictured at the bottom of the review) joining in on vocals, that actually develops an excellent, drum-enhanced, almost psychedelic feeling half way through. The warm and solid remastered version on the Voyage box set emphasises this a lot more.
Cowboy Movie is an intoxicating eight minute-plus workout that has Neil Young's imprint all over it, although it is The Grateful Dead's Jerry Garcia who plays the Young-esque guitar.
Tamalpais High (At About 3) has no proper words, save some typically harmonious backing vocals with Graham Nash, yet, because of its sublime bass and drum sound it works incredibly well. Jefferson Airplane's Jorma Kaukonen is on guitar.
Laughing has another killer bass line and an insistent but understated rock beat, marry that to those archetypal Crosby airy vocals and you have something special. The wailing guitar sound at the end that is most atmospheric as well.
What Are Their Names begins with some superb bits of electric guitar picking, duetting over an gently rumbling bass line, then the drums kick in - big and bold. If you thought the folky Crosby wasn’t much for rock, think again - he rocks in solid, brooding fashion for a few minutes before the politically-motivated vocals eventually arrive, Crosby questioning just what the hell is going on. Listen to that huge, throbbing bass again - beautiful. "Peace is not an awful lot to ask" sings a yearning Crosby. Indeed.
The gentle acoustic strains and thoughtful, contemplative lyrics of Traction In The Rain has an ambience that Crosby often has, the peaceful one of Paul Simon - or maybe Simon modelled much of his seventies work on Crosby.
Song With No Words, a leftover from the CSN era, is in the same style as Tamalpais High - a gentle, extended instrumental vibe with melodic, light vocal improvisations floating around. It ends with some top notch electric guitar soloing, which comes as a surprise, albeit a most pleasant one.
The album ends as quietly as had begun with two short vocal/acoustic numbers. Firstly the medieval chorale vocals and stunningly clear acoustic guitar of Orleans and then the mysterious, trippy I’d Swear There Was Somebody Here, which is an even shorter bit of instrumental and vocal gymnastics that doesn’t quite work as well as some of the other material. It is a bit of a shame that the album ends on a comparative low(er) point because overall it was an enchanting piece of work.
