REVISITING THE MOST INTERESTING MAN
IN THE WORLD
There was a
time when Stephen Stills could have been king. He was the de facto leader of
the Buffalo Springfield, a band that may not have sold a lot of records but,
for all the right reasons, was considered by many the American Beatles.
After he folded the
Springfield, Stills was chosen by Al Kooper to play on the Super Session album, his name on the marquee as large as that of Kooper
and Mike Bloomfield. His genius was all over the first CSN album, writing or
co-writing five songs, singing, playing lead guitar, bass and keyboards, and
producing. As CSNY, they cut a second album with Stills contributing “Carry On”
and “4+20.” CSNY played Woodstock and had the sense to get out of Altamount
before the sun went down.
The crown
was his for the taking. Then Stills started making solo records and some cracks
began to show.
The songs on
his first record seemed overshadowed by the list of pals who dropped by to play (Hendrix, Clapton, Ringo – referred to in the liner notes as
“Richie”). Stills cut one song drunk and credited Jose Cuervo Tequila for the
performance. He wasted his solo spot on Four Way Street with a dumb,
piano-pounding rant, pretentiously titled “America’s Children.” His second solo
album offered a few choice moments (“Change Partners,” “Marianne”) but you got the
impression he was spending more time going over the contact sheets for his
album cover shoots than writing better songs. (Stills’ album artwork generally
portrayed him as the most interesting man in the world, riding horses, climbing
mountains and gazing handsomely out a jet window).
Stills
formed a new band called Manassas, with a double album that sounded
like Buffalo Springfield 2.0 and it was easy to conclude that maybe being a
member of a band was better for him than working solo. But by the CSNY reunion
tour in 1974, his contributions almost seemed like an afterthought, marginalized
by brighter, smarter work from his band mates. In 1976, he and Neil Young toured
together, with promises of the old gun-slinging guitar battles of the Springfield;
midway through the tour, Young quit, leaving Stills to ride it out alone.
His hubris drained,
Stills began to seem more like a victim. He made a point of covering Young songs
on many of his subsequent records, a decision that was always a head-scratcher.
While Paul McCartney has spent the past decades explaining how he and John
Lennon were creative and visionary equals, Stills spent nearly the same amount
of time reminding us he couldn’t keep up with Young anymore.
Stills’ long
road back to relevance took him here recently on tour with Judy Collins.
While his voice comes off a little rough at times, it’s
still strong and he’s kept his sense of humor. The show reinforces what we’ve
always known. He has written some great songs: For What It’s Worth, Bluebird,
Questions, So Begins the Task, Suite Judy Blue Eyes; and that he’s an excellent,
underrated guitar player, economical and muscular. A long, trippy solo on
Bluebird was a highlight, where his playing seemed to transcend the moment.
Sharing the stage
with a sympathetic musician like Collins seems to suit him. He’s in a similar
situation with his blues band, the Rides, where he and Kenny Wayne Shepherd
take turns singing lead and soloing. Stills may no longer be
the most interesting man in the world, but working as a cog in a larger musical
machine plays to his many strengths.
