Friday, August 13, 2010



In 1971 I bought an LP unlike any other in the Sixties pie in the sky time.

This one had a series of songs that stitched together as one long chant, almost summing up, if possible, the persona of an era just passed through. Gathering together fellow musicians from the Airplane, the Dead, Neil Young et al., it was attempting to be sunrise and sunset at once. Very close.

At the time it was panned in Rolling Stone, which wasn't then what it is now: then it was nearly vital.

The LP sallied on. Ignored, taken on by a few and a few more, grown to be loved by later generations.

The performer, despite immaculate odds, even survived.

Being an August birth (August 14) — he was eleven years old when his Oscar winning father was the cinematographer for the film High Noon (1952) — close your eyes and listen and say we are happy you are alive David Crosby.


woodshed collage photo : © bob arnold