How Steve Stills learned to stop worrying about his own solo career and
appreciate Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. A case of deja vu for Barbara Charone
IT'S 3 am Eastern standard time on a hot and muggy Florida evening. Down at the beach
front, Ann Margret is finishing up the late show at one of Miami's many celebrated hotels.
Down at Criteria studios, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young are winding up a session for what
ultimately could be their first studio album since 'Deja Vu'.
Dressed in the faded, patched denims that have become his trademark, Neil Young stands
in the foyer with his lanky arms placed round Stephen Stills' shoulders lazily singing
'Don't make a zombie out of me' to a non-existing Zumaesque beat. Stills grins. Crosby and
Nash chuckle. It has been a rather long day.
Eight hours earlier, Criteria was the scene of chaos as they hosted a reception for 150
prospective studio engineers, eager to learn the hows and whys of professional recording.
Drinking whisky and dry while touring the studio complex, these 150 hopefuls stared
vacantly at the gold albums impressively decorating the walls. Two stood out among the
others - 'Manassas' and 'Stephen Stills II'.
These eagle eyed novices had already visited studio C where the Bee Gees were busy
working on their next album and, now curiously wandered around the reception area,
hypnotically drawn towards the familiar sounds coming from the closed doors of studio B.
"Where you going," Harper the receptionist demanded of the few who strayed
dangerously close to the outer limits of studio B. "To the washroom," came the
meek prospective engineers' reply crawling past a door clearly marked DO NOT DISTURB/ KEEP
OUT/ EXCEPT FOR A GIBB/ ANY GIBB FOR THAT MATTER scrawled in sloppy, home-made print.
Inside the secretive studio, the atmosphere was extremely flammable. An eggshell aura
surrounded the room, often making the air incredibly oppressive. This wasn't your average
session. This wasn't a reunion offer prompted by some crazy promoter's 15 million dollar
dream. This was the real thing.
The music blasting from the enormous speakers was the kind of music that those 150
prospective engineers fantasise about. The kind of music that dreams are made of. A Stills
composition 'Black Coral' bursts out of the speakers with royal grandeur, supplemented by
the 1001 guitars of Stills and Young and the 1001 voices of Crosby and Nash. This must be
a dream, the scenario for some movie made in heaven.
They've been here in Miami for over a week now and tonight's the night, the last night.
Then a two week break to allow Young time to go back home, still exhausted from an
extensive European tour. Time to allow Crosby and Nash to finish mixing their second album
for ABC, scheduled for an early August release. Time for Stephen to submerge himself in
the studio, feeding his insatiable appetite for writing and recording.
CSNY aren't supposed to be working on a group album at Criteria. It was basically an
accident and for that reason this whole crazy escapade just might work. Knock on wood.
COME BACK in time to last autumn when Neil Young guested on several California Stills
dates, playing electric guitar and occasionally singing. It was then that the seeds of the
Stills/Young album were first planted, finally beginning to sprout in the spring when the
crop was healthy and the weather warm.
Once on-stage Young discovered the obvious merits of the Stephen Stills band and
eagerly agreed to head down Miami way for some serious recording before setting off for
his own European tour. Using a band comprised of drummer Joe Vitale, keyboard player Jerry
Aiello, percussionist extraordinaire Joe Lala, and bassist George Perry, these former
Buffalo Springfield companions got down to business.
"We cut about 12 tunes in 15 days, " Stills recalls of those early sessions.
''We had Tommy Dowd in here to direct a bit. Ostensibly he was the producer and got things
moving along more efficiently than even we would have done. He was a great deal of help.
"But finally he just said 'listen I'm not producing I'm just directing the band.
You've got the material. You're trying to do an incredibly difficult thing, get out there
every night and perform a new song and that's something very few artists in the world can
do'. I took that as a very high compliment," Stills smiles dressed in Jeans,
moccasins, and an army fatigue shirt.
The prospect of a Stills/ Young album was exciting. Since the Springfield, Neil had
only really worked with Stephen on 'Deja Vu' and even then he was only prominent on his
particular tracks. Now creative sparks stood a good chance of colliding in mid air.
Sure enough the combination proved extremely fierce and passionate. You should hear
Young's 'Midnight On The Bay' performed acoustically on his recent tour here. What were
once empty spaces with only harmonica punctuation now contain lethal doses of restrained
wah-wah playing from Stills that could easily make your head spin. Team work.
"It's great for my guitar playing and great for Neil's," Stephen enthused.
"Neil thinks of putting things on record that I wouldn't and vice versa. I mean Neil
and I have been together for so long. We've got to the point where we've grown up enough.
Neil and I would never have a scream out. We don't raise our voices to each other.
"I'll walk in the studio, close all the doors and yell expletive deleted at the
top of my lungs for about 15 minutes if I'm really mad," Stills says in animation.
"People can really make me mad. And when I blow my stack I really blow my stack.
Everybody scurries for cover."
Stephen got really mad that night CN&Y left the studio to go home to California,
promising to return in two weeks. Stephen didn't really care about record deadlines, tour
schedules, or family visits. Stephen was burning with creative energy and he wanted to
play. It's the duality in him that makes him vulnerable and strong.
Immediately after singing 'Don't make a zombie out of me' Young departed. Frustrated,
Stills threw himself into the studio, closed all the doors, yelled a certain expletive
deleted, and kicked in the console with ferocious power and aggression.
15 minutes later he stormed out of the studio, woke Perry and Lala who were dead to the
world on couches in the foyer, and instructed them that recording would continue.
"Who's left," Lala said. "The band," Stills spewed like a raging
volcano.
A Cleveland friend of Vitale's who wants to make it as a rock 'n' roll musician could
not believe these 4am goings on. "Was Walsh ever like this," the kid asked
Vitale incredulously. "Oh yeah," Joe laughed. "All the time." Creative
genius does not stop for sleep when the soul is possessed.
Wearing a T-shirt that says 'I'm An Exhibitionist', Stills plugs his guitar in and
turns his amp up to concert volume to heighten the aggression running through his system
like adrenaline. Bassist Perry cannot hear himself play so he sets up in the control room.
Stills kicks off a mean and nasty guitar riff and Vitale follows forcefully. Adlibbing,
Stills begins to sing words about 'being let down' to a very intense beat. Engineer/
producer Don Gehman knows Stephen too well to assume this is a wasted exercise. "I've
seen him do this before and come up with something brilliant," he says twisting the
knobs at 5am.
An hour later Stephen has adequately worked out his musical frustrations and
disappointments over not being able to finish the CSN&Y album right now. "It's
OK," Gehman reassures Stills, "we'll add the rest of the vocals in two
weeks."
"Two weeks," Stills pouts, "Two weeks!"
Assistant engineers rewind the tapes and play back the impromptu jam like song.
Somewhere in the middle of all the passionate electric guitar fire Stills hits a chord
that will no doubt surface on a future album. Just when we were all thinking the hurt
lyrics were about his fragile relationship with CN&Y, Stills challenges our
perspective.
"Have you seen 'One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest'," he says to no one in
particular as the sun is rising outside the studio. "Well that song is about Billy.
He had the joy of life in him."
STEPHEN STILLS is not the hardened, insensitive, egomaniac public opinion labels him.
Much like his contemporary Neil Young, Stills has just entered into yet another creative
phase of his long and respected career. Like Neil he has worked hard at getting himself
together. The only thing Stephen Stills is addicted to is music. This boy literally can't
get enough.
At 6am Stills is adding piano to a raucous blues tune 'I Got The Miserables' while
Vitale experiments with a flute part. Both cagey and restless, Stills mentally reworks
parts on several tunes CSN&Y had recorded that evening, determined to make them
perfect. At 7am he departs to a house he has rented for himself and the band.
THINGS CHANGED considerably when Crosby and Nash arrived. The peaceful coexistence
Young and Stills had enjoyed before and after Neil's European tour has been invaded by
familiar friction and nagging frustrations. Hostilities from recurrent encounters come
back to haunt like a bad dream that won't go away. Yet the bond is strong - respectful
friction.
"We wanted to do one of our albums in our style," Stills says of the Young
collaboration. "Neil got back from Europe and played the tapes for David and Graham
and they wanted in on it. Sure it was weird," Stephen sighs. "They had to settle
into our groove cause Neil and I had an established groove. They of course disrupted the
groove which was completely alien to them. But it balanced out. They began to get the idea
and understand what we were doing right and what they were doing wrong and vice
versa."
Yet the proceedings were expectedly far from harmonious. At times Crosby and Nash
seemed like cautious observers. At one point Nash told the amiable receptionist Harper
'Tomorrow we go back to work."
"Hasn't this been work," Harper wondered out loud.
"Observing," Nash said succinctly. "Observing."
"The only trouble is confusion when everybody gets to talkin' at once. Then I
usually clamp my jam and wait for everybody to subside and say 'can I make a
suggestion'," Stills says on good behaviour.
"Right is something that's sometimes immediately apparent to everybody and
sometimes doesn't fit together till a couple days later cause you're too close to the
tune."
Heated arguments still occur but this time everyone is older and wiser. Stills is more
inclined to hold his tongue guiding the band in a way more tolerable to the others.
Despite apparent frictions most notably between him and Nash, the band eagerly wait for
Stephen's arrival before making hasty policy decisions on any tracks. They still look to
Stephen for direction.
"They do. But when Neil told me that Graham and David were showing up I said 'OK
you're the leader, you get it this time pal, I ain't gonna stick my foot in that meat
grinder again'. So I just try and go along, try and get things moving," Stills says
with group maturity.
"Sure there's communication breakdowns, but they don't result in fights. Neil and
I operate in an almost telepathic sense whereas a lot of times it's very time consuming
trying to explain to anyone else what I have in mind. Neil and I can speak in half
sentences."
Closing the communication gap means compromise and concession, the very things that
probably destroyed CSNY in their previous existence. If it works this time around it's
only because the four of them want it to. It has to be great not merely good. Their
reputations are on the line.
"Of course I have to make concessions," Stills spits out the words.
"It's a compromise. I have to make more concessions than when I'm making my own
albums. More concessions than when I'm working with Neil. I have to make more concessions
than when I'm working with probably anybody I've worked with in my entire career."
Despite all the anguish and rejection, all the frustrations inherent in not being able
to do things your own way when you excel at studio production, is that price worth it for
harmonies that make a song perfect?
"Yeah I suppose so,!" Stephen says not about to fight a losing battle for the
sake of a better record. "It is frustrating for me cause basically I'm a musician and
I can't stand all the talk, all that standing around and just talking. Before David and
Graham came, the first thing we'd do every night was play.
"I want this to work cause it will disprove a lot of irresponsible gossip,"
he pauses awkwardly. "I'm not cut out to be a solo artist. I've got to have immediate
approval from my peers. It can be a bit heart-wrenching if you don't get it which makes me
despondent.
"I don't know," Stills sighs in frustration, "A lot of practicalities
come into it that make the whole situation rather tenuous. It's touchy. You've got to pull
all your diplomatic tools together."
As Stephen is quick to admit he's had to bite his tongue on more than several occasions
during these intense CSN&Y sessions, all part of group diplomacy. As Stills so adeptly
stated in his song 'Different Tongues' from the just released 'Illegal Stills' album
"it's all a part of growing" and sometimes that growing means biting your tongue
even though you know the answer to the question.
Back in studio B, Crosby and Nash are adding beautifully constructed harmonies to
'Midnight On The Bay' taking the song even one step further with their vocal top layer and
making the track truly CSN&Y. Most of the 150 prospective engineers have gone home but
several curious onlookers wander round the DO NOT DISTURB sign trying to work out who owns
those familiar voices.
A long piece of gaffer's tape runs down the mixing panel marking off each of the 24
instrumental tracks. The gaffer's tape however does not stop at 24 running down to 28 with
four separate vocal tracks for the star attractions. The words Crosby, Stills, Nash and
Young look terrific even on smeared gaffer's tape. The voices coming out of the speakers
sound even better.
Nash in his Orange County, California Boy Scout shirt and baggy pyjama styled pants and
Crosby in his red corduroy shirt and baggy beige work pants make an odd couple indeed.
Despite teething problems Crosby and Nash are an integral part of the puzzle.
The eggshell atmosphere is broken by restless bursts of energy sending one of the
quartet out of the studio in a fit of frustration, walking round the lobby in aggression
as a left over engineer stares intently and vainly tries to place the famous face. Stills
does not emerge from his studio alcove until Young screams 'don't make a zombie out of
me'.
Before departing they work on a brand new Nash composition called 'Mutiny' where he
sings to a 'Chicago' type marching band beat. Stills paints an eerie landscape with some
interesting guitar figures, while Young decorates the song with haunting ARP work. Crosby
stalks the lobby.
And there's Stills divine 'Black Coral' built around an infectious dirge-like beat with
an ARP break and an excellent piano foundation. Crosby and Nash top it off with high
harmonies.
Left over and untouched from the original Young/Stills sessions is Stephen's junkie
song 'One Way Ride' with Neil singing back-up harmonies that are instantly reminiscent of
the Buffalo Springfield. Well hello Mr Soul. There's also a Zuma-like tune called 'Ocean
Girl' which sounds a bit like 'Midnight On The Bay' but rockier.
David, Graham and Neil leave the next day for California taking tapes of the precious
recordings with them for at home inspection. Neil will return in a week and Crosby and
Nash in two weeks. Hopefully.
Summer plans are tenuous. Crosby and Nash have an August tour booked in America to
coincide with the release of their upcoming album. Stills kicks off his own tour in June
which will include one date in Britain. Later in the summer Neil and Stephen will tour
together for at least 10 dates at medium sized halls. The baseball stadium days are over.
But, if this piece of vinyl becomes a finished product a CSN&Y album could be in
the shops by July on Atlantic Records who still retain rights to the group even though
they have all individually left the label. Ahmet Ertegun had been on the phone several
times, eager for release dates and consumer product but the band refuse the shortchange
themselves on quality for the sake of speed.
And. If the CSN&Y album is out in July then those Young/Stills dates could possibly
become CSN&Y dates. All very tenuous stuff but exciting.
STEPHEN STILLS sits in the studio with the lights dimmed. Tonight he is more subdued
and his 'I'm An Exhibitionist' T-shirt is appropriately absent. So are a good many of the
1001 guitars that decorated the studio yesterday. Musically frustrated over this temporary
halt of action, Stills wallows in quiet desperation.
"I like to work when everybody's on the same team, trying to be efficient and not
attach so much importance to it. I mean rock 'n' roll is for fun for pity's sake," he
says in exasperation. "Art is art but ...
"It's like a painter who's working on a painting and can't get something to work
so he just takes every bucket of paint he's got and throws it against the wall, cuts out
the piece of wall, hangs it in the museum of modern art and it turns out to be a
masterpiece," Stills laughs as his mood simultaneously improves, "and it's all
because of a temper tantrum.
"We're all children. Every single one of us are children. I'm just trying to get
things moving along ya know?" he shoots off one of those helplessly hoping looks.
"Everything tends to get so serious with the four of us. It's all so important it's
absolutely disgusting."
"The older I get the more honed my skills become and that means playing every day
with a band. To lay off for two weeks is a big let down. My chops were just starting to
come back up and pooph. I suppose," he says softly, "that's what hurt the
most."
Sullen moods disappear as the talk changes to 'Illegal Stills' an album that will
undoubtedly make Stephen Stills a hero again to a once dubious public. Joe Vitale supplies
Holiday Inn lounge type muzak on organ as Stephen sips last night's Southern Comfort.
Stephen had been saving his guitar playing virtuosity for the album with Neil so he
resorted to lead work on piano for his new album, a refreshing change to hear keyboard
based songs.
"Guitar just wasn't needed on some of those songs. I didn't have anything to
inspire me to the scale. It's the last time except on the rarest of occasions that I'll
try to overdub a lead guitar solo. That's one of the things I learned onstage, that I play
so much better and with so much more fire live."
Always a south of the border swing fanatic, the Latin American feel running throughout
'Illegal Stills' was no departure but rather a sophisticated progression from earlier
album attempts. 'No Me Niegas', another Spanish speaking foray, is Stills' most successful
slice of Latin swing.
"A lot of my formative years of learning music was in Latin America so to me
there's always a place for it. Besides Joe Lala was playing very, very well," he says
of his percussionist. "It's that style of music from Panama played on organ, that
club band thing. The style is real central American/south American folk music with just
enough of a modern touch while maintaining its huh," he begins to laugh at his words,
"Ethnic roots."
Another reason behind the album's solidarity is the impressive strength of Stills'
band, now being used for the CSN&Y recordings.
"I've been quite fortunate to work with an awful lot of very fine musicians which
makes the ones you end up with better and better. I don't see anybody in this band taking
off and doing something else. It's like Jerry Aiello says 'you're stuck with me'."
The only change in line-up from the first CBS 'Stills' album has been a switch from
drummer Tubby Ziegler to Joe Walsh's former rocky mountain drummer Joe Vitale. Originally,
Stephen had wanted Ringo Starr who had played with him on his first Atlantic album.
"Vitale was the last piece of the puzzle. Tubby wasn't working out and I had the
Neil thing coming up so I asked Ringo to play drums. I didn't think it would be fair to
hint that it might be a CSN&Y album even though the thought had crossed our minds.
"Ringo didn't fancy it. He seems to be going about things in a very helter skelter
fashion. He's one of the best drummers in the world and he would have been great for this.
I think if he did it he would have got the musical satisfaction he's been searching
for."
The band is a driving force behind Stephen's present creative winning streak. As he
admits to needed approval and advice from his peers, this band gives him that and a whole
lot more.
"This is my band. I've been trying to get them to play with CSN&Y for years. I
won't play with another band except perhaps a combination of the Bee Gees band and us. We
made an INCREDIBLE track INCREDIBLE," Stephen enthuses. "I've yet to finish the
lyrics. They wanna use it in the movie of 'Grease'.
"Barry Gibb and I were just sitting around saying whatever happened to the good
old days when we sang each other's songs. If you nicked something from someone they'd nick
something back later. Everybody got so protective and competitive which really destroyed a
lot of great music," he says sadly. "That destroyed the artistic end of the
business that was essential to the great upheaval of music in the 60's."
Right now the only person he's stealing riffs from is himself borrowing 'Love The One
You're With' tempo for the new 'Buyin' Time' which marks a return to active politics.
"I've always been political. If 'Buyin' Time' had been released as a single the
week Time came out with that 'Brother can you spare 4 billion' cover it would have been a
hit.
"Did you see Mac David on TV tonight," Stephen asks just slightly changing
the subject. "He opened his show with 'Love The One You're With', and sang the shit
out of it."
When the man from CBS had come to the studio yesterday with the finished pressings
Stills glowed listening to the virginal piece of vinyl. Although he thinks it's more
consistent he still maintains that he's 'basically just a blues cat'.
But record sales do matter. He's slightly disappointed that 'Stills' just missed going
gold, a situation that irks him even more because the last Crosby/ Nash effort hit 24
carat.
"I'm a funky old cat from the south. I've been in drag races and shit and I like
to have my trophies on my wall," Stills admits with a grin.
Suddenly the dim studio lights become brighter and a voice says hello over the
intercom. Tom Dowd has just returned from finishing up the new Rod Stewart album in LA and
wants to check out these CSN&Y rumours. Dowd is one of the few people who commands
Stephen's respect. The finished CSN&Y tracks are played for fresh ears. Just as Crosby
and Nash add their beautiful bit on 'Midnight On The Bay', Dowd inquires about the
personality conflicts.
"Yeah, " Stephen muses "but they sure sing good."
After the last chords of 'Black Coral' have faded away there is respectful silence.
Dowd likes 'Black Coral' best of all. "There's still a few things that aren't quite
right," says the perfectionist Stills.
"It's just about there Stephen," Dowd says as a high compliment.
Stephen then plays the Stills/Gibb composition which is indeed a snappy toe tapper that
sounds very commercial and chart bound plus being a whole lot of fun.
"It's been such a strange career," Stephen reflects after Dowd has departed.
"You'd probably find out more about me from other people cause I'm always thinking
about what I'm gonna do in 15 minutes. A lot of things I say either turn out to be a put
down or boastful or someone will say 'why did you say that man' and all that crap,"
he says determined to avoid such unpleasant encounters.
"You have no idea how easily things get twisted, how easily bands get broken up
cause of what they read about the rest of the band members. If you start to believe all
that crap it's self defeating."
Ironically the current issue of 'Hit Parader' contained a Crosby/Nash interview
conducted several months before where Nash defiantly declared he'd never work with Stills
again. But time heals all wounds and talent hypnotically draws certain people together
despite personality conflicts and sometimes because of personality conflicts. Most great
bands depend on friction for real creativity.
With luck Stephen Stills' waiting period is now over. By now he should be back in
studio B with the DO NOT DISTURB sign busy at work with Crosby, Nash and Young.
"Right now I'm on fire," Stephen Stills declared, radiating electric energy.
"That's I why I was so disappointed when they all cut out. They need to be hungry.
Hungry for the dough or the music. Mostly hungry for the music. Me, I'm famished."
