Many years ago in the last century when I was a little kid my uncle Jackie came to visit our house and my older brother Rob was proudly showing him his collection of eight-track tapes. It was apparent that my uncle was unfamiliar with the various artists favored by teenagers of that time but his eyes flew open in recognition when Rob noted: “I’ve also got Crosby, Stills, and Nash.” Uncle Jackie asked, “Bing Crosby?”
It wouldn’t be the first time that David Crosby, would not be recognized for his musical contributions. I have to admit that I too preferred the other members of the group to Crosby, who wrote more obscure and less-accessible songs like “Almost Cut My Hair,” at tune about nonconformity, and “Triad,” an argument for a relationship based on a threesome. Even the title song of CSN&Y’s massive hit album “Déjà Vu” didn’t make the charts. Toward the end of his life when the pandemic curtailed his tour schedule he mentioned that his lack of hits put a strain on his revenue stream thus making it difficult to pay his bills.
But one thing that never failed him was his sweet singing voice, an attribute that landed him with the Byrds and CSN&Y. I only saw him perform live once with his famous band mates Stephen Stills, Graham Nash, and Neil Young way back in 1974. At the peak of its popularity, CSN&Y was doing a stadium tour and made a stop on Aug. 23 in Tampa, Fla. As I noted in an earlier blog they sounded awful. I read later that they had blown out their voices earlier on the tour so the sweet harmonies for which they had become known for were not on display that night. But of the four, only Crosby produced great vocals.
It thought it interesting that when Anderson Cooper interviewed James Taylor the singer-songwriter noted that Stills, Nash, and Young all had distinctive voices that you could pick out when all of them were singing together. But Crosby’s voice blended so well you really didn’t notice it.
That same voice when it came to his unfiltered opinions, however, often put a strain on his personal relationships with his former band-mates. And it also didn’t help that his earlier drug use resulted in legal trouble and health issues, including the need for a liver transplant.
But even though they were estranged at the time Graham Nash gave Crosby credit when introducing the hauntingly beautiful song “To the Last Whale” at a recent solo performance I saw in Asheville. Nash told the story of being asleep below deck on Crosby’s boat when he was awakened and told to come on deck quick. When he got there Nash saw a pod of whales swimming nearby and that inspired the song from the duo’s album “Wind on the Water.”
All of his colleagues noted that Crosby’s love of music created a bond that could never be broken. As a musical tribute I played a couple of Crosby’s songs the night he died at an open mic held at a local club. The following lines from one of those tunes “The Lee Shore” I think are an appropriate epitaph.
Sunset smells of dinner
Women are calling at me to end my tales
But perhaps I’ll see you in the next quiet place
I furl my sails