THE BYRDS: LIVE AT THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL (1971/2008)
1) Lover Of The Bayou; 2) You
Ain't Going Nowhere; 3) Truck Stop Girl; 4) My Back Pages; 5) Baby, What You
Want Me To Do; 6) Jamaica Say You Will; 7) Black Mountain Rag/Soldier's Joy; 8)
Mr. Tambourine Man; 9) Pretty Boy Floyd; 10) Take A Whiff; 11) Chestnut Mare;
12) Jesus Is Just Alright; 13) Eight Miles High; 14) So You Want To Be A
Rock'n'Roll Star; 15) Mr. Spaceman; 16) I Trust; 17) Nashville West; 18) Roll
Over Beethoven; 19) Amazing Grace.
Okay, this is no live masterpiece, either, but
third time around, they finally got it close
to right. This archival release, coming out of the vaults more than 35 years
after the original recording was made, has some obvious advantages over both Untitled and Fillmore, to emerge as arguably the single best live document of
the Clarence White era — if you still needed convincing that they were a fun
live band, and the Albert Hall show still does not convince you, there's
probably no hope left for the future.
First, it is much longer than both of these,
which is a good thing because it allows them to concentrate on pretty much
every side of their legacy — folk, country, psychedelia, rock, «Americana» in
general, whatever. It is well-structured, with a «breather» all-acoustic
section in the middle and a couple proper encores. It does not rely too heavily
on new material, with only a couple (good) songs from Byrdmaniax and only three (decent) songs from Untitled. And, most importantly, it reflects a three-year gestation
period, meaning that the band had gained quite a bit of muscle since the
somewhat insecure beginnings of the Fillmore days.
In particular, this 18-minute version of ʻEight
Miles Highʼ (more accurately, ʻImprovisational Variations Around The Theme Of
ʻEight Miles Highʼʼ, since the song itself is played for about two minutes
only) is much tighter and, I would say, comprehensible
than the jam captured on Untitled. If
the early McGuinn/White interplay seemed to lack self-assurance and was more
like "okay, everybody's doing it, let's try this too and see where it gets
us", by 1971, having done it many times over, they sound like they already
know the main directions and use the jam as a polygon for testing and expanding
the individual players' skills — in particular, the bit where the guitarists go
take a smoke and the Battin/Parsons rhythm section stays behind and experiments
with key and tempo changes is really quite exciting, as Battin seems to go
through every basic rhythm pattern in existence (jazz, blues, boogie, pop, you
name it).
The originals still suffer from being too
ragged and «earthy» compared to the ethereal studio versions, and McGuinn does
not even begin to strive for the same fluidity, precision of phrasing, and tonal
beauty that he seemed to so effortlessly achieve in the studio. But this is at
least partially compensated for by the increased tightness and energy of the
rhythm section and the ever more fluent guitar interplay, and besides,
individual weaknesses and elements of sloppiness are not so painful when you
look at the whole thing as one complex — there's so much collective goodness
here that an occasional vocal flub in ʻMy Back Pagesʼ is negligible. And the
decision to revert ʻMr. Tambourine Manʼ to its acoustic roots, playing it close
to the way Dylan did in 1964, actually works well in concert, where the
heavenly effect of the studio 12-string jangle multiplied by immaculate
harmonies would have been irreproduceable anyway.
In this context, I do not find the strength to
protest even again the inclusion of ʻRoll Over Beethovenʼ — a song that was
clearly not made with The Byrds in
mind, but is still forgivable given the mighty eclectic nature of the show. I
mean, they stick it in between a hot-pants rendition of ʻNashville Westʼ and a
devoted accappella walk through ʻAmazing Graceʼ, so it's goddamn symbolic —
«we're gonna finish off this show for you as hillbillies, rockers, and soulmen». With a little more sense
of humor, a little more polish, and a little more energy in the right places
they could have turned the show into an unforgettable celebration of both the
Byrds' individual legacy and American
popular music in general. And, well, it doesn't get quite that high, but they were on the right track.
Who knows, maybe a couple more years of
obsessive touring and they'd finally nail it down to perfection... then again,
they still wouldn't be able to compete with The Band, who had the advantage of
cutting their teeth on classic Dylan tours, fighting off Judasmongers and
stuff. But in any case, these 77 minutes are
impressive, except you really have to take it all in without a break and
disregard the individual scars, seams, and pimples. Thumbs up without any future
regrets, I hope.
The later Byrds experienced a complete reversal of the circumstances that had marked the original lineup. The more staid and mediocre their studio records got, the better their live shows became. Unless someone has high quality tapes of the original Byrds in action (besides their Monterrey appearance), this is probably the last live document we really need from these guys. One thing's for sure: I'll take this era of the Byrds over the "Band" any day. Roger's 1000 times more legitimate and likable than J.R. Robertson will ever be.
ReplyDeleteThis definitely is a step up from Untitled, and it really is a nice way to send off the band. Clarence's tone is as varied and polymorphous as ever, Roger puts the Rick through all sorts of shite, and I can even take the bass soloing. Although it does seem like Clarence's amp is missing for half of Bayou. Can't always be perfect. That's what made this version of the band so fun.
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