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Feb 02, 2023, 06:29AM

David Crosby Should’ve Cut His Hair

Crosby was a minor musician who didn’t teach your children well.

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Now that David Crosby is, referencing the awful 1977 Kansas song, dust in the wind, dying a couple of weeks ago at the—for him, preposterous—age of 81, fans of my generation (whether they bought the Byrds or Crosby, Stills & Nash records when released or retroactively) are still quasi-mourning his loss. One person, a good guy, who I knew a long time ago wrote on a social media site: “The music of my youth (as well as present) has lost yet another giant. The melodies, humanity of the lyrics, along with the rhythms were works of art unmatched. RIP, Mr. Crosby.” Cripes, that’s some heated hyperbole! I liked a handful of songs Crosby wrote or co-wrote—exclusively with the Byrds—but his “art” is mostly forgotten and “matched” 50 times over by rock/pop musicians of greater stature.

I’d guess that those who write or talk so rhapsodically about a minor figure like Crosby are unconsciously, or for the realists, consciously, thinking about their own mortality, a natural reaction. At 67, I sometimes ponder that too, but not when a long-ago pop or movie star, who’s no longer producing exciting work, dies. For example, who didn’t love the gentleman Charlie Watts, always the most dignified member of the Stones? But when he punched out at 80 in 2021 I thought about it for a minute or two, figured he had a full life and moved on. It wasn’t tragic, like the plane crash that killed Otis Redding (26) or Sam Cooke’s fatal gunshot at 33, since they had so much yet to accomplish. (Put Duane Allman in that camp, too.) Redding and Cooke, by the way, were far more influential than David Crosby. Every generation is the same when it comes to the passing of stars from their youth: my mom, who starting turning to The Long Islander’s obituary section first when she was 50—I thought that was strange at the time—was taken aback by the sudden death of Dorothy Kilgallen in 1965, mostly because of the conspiracy angle. But she didn’t bat an eye when notables such as Mae West, Ike or Joseph Kennedy kicked.

It's even worse when a magazine writer goes gooey, like Amanda Petrusich’s Jan. 24th online New Yorker post: “David Crosby, one of the most iconic and enduring voices of the nineteen-sixties, died last week… He was a founding member of the Byrds and of Crosby, Stills, and Nash (sometimes Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young), two deeply beloved and influential folk-rock outfits. For anyone who found solace or haven in Crosby’s singing, his death feels like the dimming of some golden light.”

As noted, as a teenager I was a fan (still am) of several Crosby songs, and rank “Everybody’s Been Burned,” “Dolphin’s Smile,” “Draft Morning” and “I See You”—all with the Byrds, some co-written—at the top of the heap. I liked the first Crosby, Stills & Nash LP in 1969—though the anticipated follow-up in 1970, Déjà Vu, was disappointing—but can’t listen to it now, save “Wooden Ships.” And Crosby’s “Guinnevere” and “Long Time Gone” from the first LP, and then “Almost Cut My Hair” on the next one, are awful songs that if I listened to radio would occasion a lickety-split change of station.

I’d never read Petrusich before, at least knowingly, but her claim that the death of “Croz” “feels like the dimming of some golden light” is an appalling distortion of the truth. (That The New Yorker staff writer was born in 1980 makes her assessment more galling.) Of the four musicians in and out of the group, I always preferred Neil Young—the only member who can be described as a major talent (if not icon) well into the 1980s—and when he wrote “Ohio” in 1970, recorded by band just a couple of weeks after the May 4th Kent State murders, a remarkable turnaround even in those days, it was instant dynamite, except for Crosby’s screeching in the background. Christ, what a ham.

The New York Times’ longtime, and not always objectionable, rock critic Jon Pareles (69) wrote “David Crosby’s 15 Essential Songs”—to Pareles, at least, and not “required listening” for anyone else—just two days after the singer’s demise. (Could be that Crosby’s obituary was in the can since about 1980 at newspapers and magazines.) I agree with several of his choices, hated Crosby’s ear-bleeder “Mind Gardens” (why Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman allowed that garbage on Younger Than Yesterday is a minor mystery) and didn’t pay any attention at all to his 21st century work. It’s interesting, sort of, that Pareles’ list skips from 1971 to 2014, but it’s his description of “Almost Cut My Hair” that made me want to speak out against the madness.

He writes: “Boomers can remember when the length of a man’s hair signified a political allegiance. While Stills and Young set up a lead-guitar duel behind him, Crosby sings with his most intense near-rasp, feeling paranoia—‘like lookin’ at my mirror and seeing a police car’—but deciding he was ‘letting my freak flag fly’ anyway.” I had long hair at the time but felt like getting a crewcut after listening to Crosby’s self-indulgent crap. And it’s not really true that by 1970 long hair “signified” anything but fashion: look at any high school yearbook from that year and the teenagers’ pictures show almost all the boys with flowing locks, and some with bushy sideburns and scraggly beards. Young rednecks let their “freak flags” fly, too, although maybe like Crosby they were fascinated with guns.

Rock critic Bill Wyman took some flak for writing an unflattering obit of Crosby just days after he died. “Pissing on a fresh grave” was a common complaint, as Wyman, while praising Crosby’s voice and harmonizing, devoted much of his story to the singer’s longtime drug addictions, contemptible treatment of women and quotes from contemporaries (in previous books and articles) that he was an asshole. Wyman’s lead sentence: “David Crosby’s career in music should’ve ended in 1967,” when McGuinn and Hillman fired him from the Byrds. I’m not much interested in rock star gossip, and the suggestion that Crosby would hang it up in ’67 is silly; a singer wants to sing for his supper. But Wyman’s contention that “Croz” was a relatively minor talent is on the mark, and was a welcome departure from most of the pro forma praise found in most outlets.

—Follow Russ Smith on Twitter: @MUGGER1955

Discussion
  • Crosby was a very good singer, which is about it for him. Also, he was a total jerk much of the time. So much so that his best friend for decades, Graham Nash, didn't want anything to do with him after tolerating him forever.

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  • Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much.

  • So the piece is tongue in cheek? I don't see that, usually writers leave some clues or else what's the point?

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  • It's not tongue-in-cheek.

  • I didn't think so. This is a little OT, but I swear (and I have witnesses) that, way back 50 years ago, my uncle (born to two Polish parents) misheard the lyric as "like lookin in my mirror and seeing a Polish guy" and wondered why anyone would sing that.

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  • Mugger. That's a good name for you. Maybe you were out of the loop a bit since you were a little young for the Vietnam Era.

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  • I doubt you read the article.

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  • According to Woody Allen 95% of life is showing up and if you somehow find yourself in the middle of csny, Byrd's, buffalo Springfield, joni Mitchell, Jefferson airplane, and the dead etc, you were respected by your peers, and obviously not for your pleasant personality. And he was the guy whose head was exploding, in Dylan's day of the locust, which makes him immortal in my book. Most importantly, nash/crosby as much as Lennon/McCartney are the sound of their era, their beautiful harmonies.

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  • Picasso was a jerk also. What does personality have to do with art?

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  • You have lost quite a bit of credibility by telling us that Wooden Ships was on Deja Vu.

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  • I never paid much attention to these peeps. For whatever reasons in the 60s and 70s I was a devotee of R&B and Soul, and after that only listened to the white lady singer-songwriters. I think the only white guys I listened to much where Elton John and Average White Band, intil I was a senior in high school and my boarding school roommate got me into Jean Luc Ponty along with Chick Corea and Herbie Hancock. This meant in the past 20 years I got to discover the Beach Boys and even the Beatles almost as if I had never heard them before. Sirius has a Beatles' channel I have made one of my 3 pre-sets in the car. I think I heard Crosby covering a Beatles song there last week, and he was nice enough. I kind of want to fight you for being mean to him. And I don't know why I care. RIP

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  • You misread. The reference to Deja Vu was separated by em dashes.

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  • Should have cut this article.

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  • Russ Smith Should Have Shut His Mouth "Almost shut my mouth...but I didn't and I wonder why, I let this drivel fly. I feel, like somebody might give a s---, about what I say.

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  • You may be a little harsh to say the Croz was a minor musician, but his boastful self indulgent personality did paint him as a pompous ass. His nauseous diatribes on Twitter were annoying, and calling Ted Nugent a hack on guitar made his chops on a six string look less than pedestrian. However, he was a very good songwriter, especially during his tenure with the Byrd's. Incorporating Jazzy timed progressions, with folky, eastern undertones was the rage, and he nailed it with the best of them. His vocals, and harmonies were beautiful, and complimented well with the bands he performed with. He wasn't a screecher like Nash, but he was rather lame in the song Ohio, and singing with Buffalo Springfield onstage at the Monterey Pop Festival. Though his flame long blew a few scores ago, his better works of ages past kept him relevant and respected among his contemporaries. He definitely exceeded most expectations of his longevity, and his works will play on long after his departure of this world. May his restless spirit finally sail off to the seas in peaceful slumber.

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  • Musically David Crosby will be most remembered for his splendid gift of vocal harmonizing and perhaps that is all he should be remembered for because beyond that he was a fairly mediocre talent and largely forgettable...

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  • The article is spot on. He had a great voice. In fact, after drug abuse and a liver transplant his voice sounded youthful. End of the DC story. His songs really mostly stunk. He did not write one decent song for CSN IMO. Also, annoying... and egocentric. When people of limited talent have huge egos, it is almost unbearably irksome. Crosby was a minimal talent indeed and maybe not worth the trouble. So thought most of the people who worked with him it seems.

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  • Personality has nothing to do with it if you are great artist. I think we could argue that Crosby was not, that is the gist. When your music reflect a 5 year period in history and would not be recorded again or listened to by anyone outside of that 5 year span you may not be a great artist.

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  • "Déjà Vu, was disappointing—but can’t listen to it now, save “Wooden Ships.” And Crosby’s “Guinnevere” and “Long Time Gone” from the first LP, and then “Almost Cut My Hair” on the next one, are awful songs that if I listened to radio would occasion a lickety-split change of station." Did anyone proof read this article? I can't trust anyone who dislikes Guinevere but then again, the way his paragraph is written, I'm not sure if he does or doesn't like the song.

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  • Crosby himself was not above some musician-criticism. He had a minor hit in the late 90s with "Morrison," which is basically a hit-piece aimed at his LA pop rival from the 60s. The song is jazz-rock oatmeal, but it has a good chorus and it is actually about something. Maybe it was written out of jealousy, considering the Doors were nothing without Morrison and all of Crosby's groups seemed fine without him, but maybe some things are written because any controversy is good controversy?

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