HIGH BIAS -- reissues

High Bias refreshed

THE BYRDS
The Essential Byrds
(Columbia/Legacy)
Back in the mid-60s, when the band was riding high on the charts and in the nation's consciousness, the Byrds were called "the American Beatles." That may be overstating the case a bit, but there's no denying that the Byrds were pioneers, groundbreaking folk/roots/rock fusionists whose influence is felt every time power pop or roots rock musicians put a rock beat to an old folk song, sing in close three-part harmonies in a rock/pop context or, to borrow a line from Anton Barbeau, jingle-jangle-jingle on a 12-string guitar. And while the band is most closely associated with the vision of Roger McGuinn, whose distinctive Rickenbacker chiming is the group's signature element, at their peak the Byrds really were a band, an amalgamation of strengths from a variety of talented individuals, all of whom were integral to the process, at least at one point or another. But there were a lot of those individuals over the course of the band's seven-year existence, meaning that the Byrds flew in many different directions. The Essential Byrds is a set of snapshots of the combo's various phases, and for the most part, the poses are flattering.

Disk one documents the years 1965-1966, when the Byrds were at their most popular. Of course, there are those who might argue that hearing the #1 covers of Bob Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man" and the Book of Ecclesiates' "Turn! Turn! Turn!" for the umpteenth time has about as much impact as turning on the radio and getting "Free Bird," but anyone who's never heard them before (if there is such an animal over the age of 12) will probably be astonished by the lush vocal harmonies, stately melodies and, naturally, that crystalline 12-string. But hopefully neophytes will also revel in the other delights to be found here. The band covered plenty of other Dylan tunes besides "Mr. Tambourine Man;" the versions of "My Back Pages" and "Chimes of Freedom" included here are just as stellar as the big hit. Even better are the band's originals. Singer Gene Clark, always the band's most undervalued member, is represented by a trio of stunning pop songs, "She Don't Care About Time," "Set You Free This Time" and "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better," which qualifies as the great lost pop hit of the 60s. McGuinn is represented by "He Was a Friend of Mine," an adaptation of an older traditional tune, as well as the wavy "5D (Fifth Dimension)" and "Mr. Spaceman," one of the band's earliest forays into country music. Bassist Chris Hillman weighs in with the lovely "Have You Seen Her Face" and the sarcastic rocker "So You Want to Be a Rock 'N' Roll Star," co-written with McGuinn. Guitarist David Crosby (who was also the main innovator in the band's harmonies) is a bit underrepresented, but his "Renaissance Fair" dips its toes into the Middle Eastern melodics he would explore more fully in Crosby, Stills & Nash and his solo career. And of course there's the titanic slice of early psychedelia "Eight Miles High," the astonishing Clark/Crosby/McGuinn collaboration that would have been the band's biggest hit and greatest legacy if skittish radio programmers hadn't decided it was about drugs (which it may have been, who knows) and banned it from the airwaves as it climbed the charts. There are some gems missing, like Clark's melancholy "Here Without You," Crosby's hits-that-never-were "Everybody's Been Burned" and "Why" and the band's cover of the traditional "Wild Mountain Thyme," which is a bit inexplicable given that the first disk is only 45 minutes long, but the music that is here makes fair claim to truly being the best of the early years.

Disk two covers a much larger range, from 1967 to the Byrds' dissolution in 1971. The band underwent constant personnel changes during this time period, with some strong personalities influencing the group to move in directions it might not have otherwise. For the most part, the classic Byrds sound of the hits era faded away, and the result was a string of uneven records. But "uneven" isn't necessarily the same thing as "bad," and there are plenty of diamonds to be mined. The disk starts with two of the brightest, Crosby's magnificent "Lady Friend" and the folk rockin' McGuinn/Hillman collaboration "Old John Robertson," the A- and B-sides of a 1967 single. Following those is a trio of cuts from the underrated transitional album The Notorious Byrd Brothers, Hillman's shimmering "Natural Harmony" and a pair of Carole King/Gerry Goffin tunes, the sprightly "Wasn't Born to Follow" (continuing the band's flirtations with C&W) and the lush, beautiful "Goin' Back." More tracks from this album would have been nice—"Artificial Energy" or "Dolphin's Smile," perhaps—but those are three of the band's best-ever performances. The pioneering country rock album Sweetheart of the Rodeo, the only Byrds album to feature singer/songwriter Gram Parsons, is represented by only two tracks, a strangely sweet cover of Dylan's "You Ain't Going Nowhere" and Parsons' early landmark "Hickory Wind." While Sweetheart is a bit overrated (its 60s rock/C&W fusion developed by Parsons and Hillman to better effect in the Flying Burrito Brothers), it still deserves more than this perfunctory sampling—where are Parsons' overlooked gems "One Hundred Years From Now" and "Lazy Days," or the group's great covers of the Louvin Brothers' "The Christian Life," William Bell's "You Don't Miss Your Water" and the traditional "I Am a Pilgrim?"

The rest of disk two covers the Byrds' final five albums, when the band was in the greatest amount of flux; McGuinn and former bluegrass guitarist Clarence White were the only constants. Albums like Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde and Byrdmaniax fluctuated wildly between inspiration and filler; fortunately this set captures mainly the former. Strong tunes like the sweet folk song "Chestnut Mare" (written by McGuinn with poet Jacques Levy, who would later collaborate with Dylan), McGuinn's satirical country rockers "Drug Store Truck Drivin' Man" (by McGuinn and Parsons), "Tiffany Queen" and "I Wanna Grow Up to Be a Politician" (another McGuinn/Levy co-write), the gentle "Ballad of Easy Rider" (the title tune from the film of the same name, allegedly co-written by Dylan), Clarence White's straightforward arrangement of the traditional "Farther Along," the tough epic "Lover of the Bayou," a feature for White's fluid rockgrass picking, and a psychedelizied cover of the Dylan/Rick Danko collaboration "This Wheel's On Fire" (at the time known only to bootleg collectors) stand up well the group's more celebrated work. The rocked-up gospel tunes "Glory Glory" and "Jesus is Just Alright" come across as a bit odd, though they're probably clues to McGuinn's future spiritual direction. Still, this is probably all the late-period Byrds you'll ever need, and fine listening to boot. Which also goes for the collection as a whole; while any serious music fan will want this compilation for historical purposes, he or she is likely to derive a lot of pleasure from The Essential Byrds as an aural experience as well. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: early Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, the Jayhawks

THE CYRKLE
The Minx
(Sundazed)
The Cyrkle is best known as a one-hit wonder from the 60s, thanks to the chart smash "Red Rubber Ball." But the bandmembers were accomplished enough musicians and songwriters that they were asked to score The Minx, a late 60s entry in the burgeoning erotic film market. Songwriters Tom Dawes and Don Dannemann contributed a diverse set of tunes as incidental music for this soundtrack, everything from R&B chugging ("The Rigging") and faux-50s shuck-and-jive ("The Party") to Bacharach-style horn pop ("On the Road") and easy listening cheese (the title cut). The bongo and timpani-driven "The Chase" is especially evocative of its titular subject. Mixed in are some fine pop songs: the Byrdsy "Squeeze Play," the soft, melancholy "It's a Lovely Game Louise," the Middle Eastern-toned, psychedelic "Nicole" (which features one of the earliest uses of the Coral electric sitar, not to mention opening drumbeats that would provide sampling fodder for generations to come) and the Beatlesque "Something Special." Perhaps the best tune is the one that has the least to do with the film; "Murray the Why" combines an especially memorable melody with witty lyrics lampooning the late 60s' self-styled king of hip, NYC DJ Murray the K. It's simply an enjoyable collection, even if a few of the melodies point to Dawes and Dannemann's future in the jingle industry. This edition includes a slew of previously unissued bonus tracks, mostly alternate versions of previous pieces, though "Terry's Escape" and "Baxter's Dangerous Game" continue the percussion-heavy groove of "The Chase" and will no doubt evoke cries of joy in the sampling community. The flute-laced, psych-guitar painted "Kites" is the best of the unearthed treasures, though. "Red Rubber Ball" fans may find this record to be little more than a curio, but there's enough quality music on The Minx to make it worth more than just novelty status. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: the Byrds, the Beach Boys, the Cryan' Shames

THE GENTLE SOUL
The Gentle Soul
(Sundazed)
A folk/pop obscurity from the psychedelic 60s, the Gentle Soul was a West Coast duo that made a single album in 1968 before its principals went their separate ways. Singers/songwriters Pamela Polland and Rick Stanley came from the L.A. folk scene—indeed, Polland had already established herself as a songwriter before trying to land a deal of her own—and their pairing was augmented in the studio by several local notables, including Van Dyke Parks, Jackson Browne, Ry Cooder and Byrds producer Terry Melcher. Drawing as much on classical and Celtic influences as the American folk and emerging soft rock of the period, The Gentle Soul contains light, almost ethereal melodies and lush arrangements that find strings, harpsichord and flute almost as prominent as the pair's voices and acoustic guitars. Songs like "Through a Dream," "Renaissance" and the lullaby "Marcus" border on being too precious for words, but there's always something in the performances that pulls the tracks back from the brink of sugar shock, a sense of melancholy wisdom that prevents the duo from fully trusting the sunshine. The pair's vocal blend is a bit too dulcet for the bluesy tone of "Young Man Blue," but it's a fine song nonetheless, and is indicative of the record's eclectic approach. The Celtic blues/pop/folk of "Reelin'" is both the most defiantly odd and most striking tune, a signpost to a road not taken. This edition includes nine bonus tracks, including a couple of alternate versions and a handful of singles and outtakes, including the excellent folk rocker "Tell Me Love," the overtly bluesy "You Move Me," the very Mamas and the Papas-ish "Our National Anthem" and a take on an early Jackson Browne song, "Flying Thing." The album is very much of its time—take a look at the cover—but if you're a fan of that era, you may take some solace in this Gentle Soul. Michael Toland [buy it]

For fans of: Peter, Paul & Mary, early Tim Buckley, Pearls Before Swine