Back from Portland, finally. The 1 Show didn’t disappoint, although I was in considerable pain after walking around the city for three days straight. Some of the motorcycles showcased were brilliant, some were so-so. The flat-track racing in Salem was brilliant and the final V-twin race featured no fewer than three bikes with license plates and functioning headlights. You have to love it, even if there were no fewer than four leavin’-in-the-bambulance crashes and a dozen nontrivial injuries over the course of just six races.
After the show, I stopped by to see Sean Smith, whose gnarly Aprilia crash a few years ago made him a minor legend in the sport. When I walked into his house and saw the record that he’s holding in the above photo, I, like, totally freaked out.
Only the early pressings of the “CSN” reunion album have the photo that you see Sean holding above. Subsequent releases, and all the various CD pressings, have a different photo, taken immediately afterwards by the same photographer, that show the trio laughing. You can find the early releases of this pretty easily — they sold a zillion of them from the very first day, as a lot of people had been waiting for the band to get back together — but this was a well-preserved example.
The record itself has a shot of Crosby’s yacht, the Mayan. Which makes CSN the Ur-record of Yacht Rock. I have the Steve Hoffman remaster and it’s one of my favorite things in the whole world.
There’s something great about seeing younger people connect with a record that was released during my early childhood. It suggests the idea that good music is timeless. It isn’t, of course; only truly great music is timeless, and even Bach endured a period after his death where his work was little-known. Still, if you’ve never listened to CSN, it will reward your attention.
O captain, what are we hiding from?
You’ve been hiding from the start
Did some lover steal your heart
Or did the full moon make you mad?
“Dark Star” is my favorite from CSN the album, but I prefer their debut album.
Likely because the only way I listened to music as a kid was on my parents’ old vinyl, which dated primarily from 68-74. Never had the money for new music until I hit high school..and the first “new” album I bought was Clapton’s “Unplugged.”
Anyhow, I wore out “Guinnevere” and “Wooden Ships”-thankfully, I’d made decent copies onto cassette for the Walkman.
My first thought was that you posted a picture of Ethan Couch…My apologies to Sean Smith.
HEY. That’s alright.
One day when I was 20 (I am approximately Jack’s age) I was talking to an older guy about music. I think it was a CCR album. Up to this point I was a classic rock devotee, there wasn’t shit on the radio worth listening to and the Internet did not exist. I knew nothing of the Pixies or Fela Kuti was not really into Prince. The extent of my knowledge of punk consisted of liking the Sex Pistols and not liking the Clash all that much, I liked NWA but thought Snoop was too new school. So this guy says to me “Best music ever made” about the CCR album we were talking about. Mind you I liked CCR at the time and still do to some extent. But I thought to myself “That can’t be true” and ever since then I have had an almost visceral dislike of all classic rock.
Southern Cross is a great, great song. “Never failed to fail, it was the easiest thing to do” could be the story of my life.
A lot of Stephen Stills’ lyrics have a permanent place in my mind.
“He was tired of being poor and he wasn’t into selling door to door
And he worked like the devil to be more.”
All of Cinnamon Girl, even if it hurts to hear.