Review by Shawn Perry
Of all the different factions, configurations and off-shoots of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, the combo platter of just Crosby & Nash is perhaps the most misunderstood and underrated. What can they do without Stephen Stills? Better yet, what can anyone do without Neil Young? I saw exactly what David Crosby and Graham Nash were capable of when they joined David Gilmour on stage at the Gibson Amphitheatre in 2006, lending their unique vocal blend to “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.”
As singers, they line up easily next to the Everly Brothers and Simon & Garfunkel. These guys are no slouches in the songwriting department either. Each have authored some of rock’s most timeless pieces — “Déjà Vu,” “Our House,” “Almost Cut My Hair” and “Teach Your Children” among many. To hear the two sing these and others within the intimate, stylish confines of the Long Beach Terrace Theatre on the first Friday of Spring easily erased the misconceptions anyone could ever have about the pairing.
Just a few minutes after 8:00, Crosby, Nash and the members of their band — keyboardist James Raymond, Dean Parks on guitar, bassist Kevin McCormick and drummer Steve DiStanislao — hit the stage for two hours of hits, fan favorites, new songs and lots of “firsts”. The reason for so many “firsts”? This was the “first” show of Crosby and Nash’s 2011 tour, their “first” as a duo since 2008. Since that time, the two have been busy mining ideas and writing new songs, and tonight presented an opportunity for them to debut the songs in public. Crosby and Nash, who spoke frequently to the audience, were keen to note the many “firsts” of the evening.
Speaking of which, “first” up was “Wasted On The Way,” the early 80s CSN Top 10 hit Nash wrote, partly inspired by Crosby’s state of disarray at the time. Both singers were armed with acoustics, selectively dishing out their harmonies on the cusp of the choruses, imbibing the tell-tale signs of a mature and willing audience. Everyone was reminded that this was the “first” song of the tour. As Crosby exchanged his acoustic for an electric, he announced we were the “first” audience of the tour. Nash accepted a dozen roses and the band fell into a jazzy rendition of “Long Time Gone.”
It was obvious the band was key to keeping the show on track and the songs in balance. Park is an impeccable instrumentalist, able to jump from his solid body to acoustic to pedal steel with relative ease. Raymond, Crosby’s biological son, is not only an exceptional keyboardist; he’s also a promising songwriting. His songs “Lay Me Down” and “Don’t Dig Here” (co-written with Nash and Russ Kunkel and dedicated to the Fukushima Daiichi atomic energy plant in Japan) were worked seamlessly into the set, highlighting the players and leaving plenty of terrain open for Crosby and Nash to harmonize over.
One of the things that really shone through during this performance was how natural and relaxed the two singers came off. Just before a dramatic take of Nash’s “I Used To Be King,” Crosby plucked a very Byrds-like lick and mumbled, “Forty years of this shit…” Later, he remarked, “people complain that we get too political,” before adding, “The entire Congress is for sale.” Not to be outdone, Nash said GE made 14 billion and paid no taxes. The pot was stirred, but thankfully no one walked out — the real venom was saved for “They Want It All,” the pair’s song about American corporate greed.
Of course, much of the music of Crosby and Nash (along with Stills and Young) goes straight for the partisan juggler and addresses issues of the day. Crosby fretted about the world he is leaving behind for his son on “Dream For Him” (with an alluring piano solo from Raymond). The a-capella thrust of “What Are Their Names” is as relevant today as it was when it first appeared on Crosby’s 1971 debut solo album, If I Could Only Remember My Name. The singer told one interviewer the song is simply asking: Who are the people running the planet?
Given the mood, the venue and the overall sonic possibilities, there was no way the show was going to mire in controversy. More “firsts” came about in the form of a new Crosby composition called “Slice Of Time.” And as promising as a new arrangement with the band of “Guinevere,” arguably the one song Crosby and Nash are most associated with as a singing duo, may have sounded, there’s still nothing like hearing just the two men and a lone acoustic take this tender tome out for a quick spin around the block.
Another new Crosby song (he mentioned he’d had a productive year) called “Camera” pays tribute to the singer’s father Floyd, an Academy Award-winning cinematographer, as well as to Nash, an accomplished photographer who, according to Crosby, changed digital printing forever. “His printer is in the Smithsonian,” he announced. The salsa beat certainly helped lighten the spirit of the night.
It wasn’t until the last few numbers that the mildly sedate crowd came alive and more than responsive to the undertow. Maybe it was the formality and tone of the theatre — polite ushers and drinks only allowed in the lobby — that kept the audience in check and well behaved. The ferocious call to arms behind “Military Madness” was enough to get at least three rebels out of their seats. Once the double encore of “Teach Your Children” and “Chicago” threw caution to the wind, most everyone was wiggling their toes and clapping their hands.
Seeing David Crosby, despite a troubling past, sing and perform with all the verve, energy and conviction of the same guy we saw at Monterey and Woodstock is a comforting image. Seeing him do it with Graham Nash, whose sure-footed vocals, immaculate craftsmanship and supportive nature, meshes the seasoning of the soul and ignites the eternal march toward truth and justice. While the Buffalo Springfield prepares to make another run around the range, we can relish in the knowledge that the other two are doing just fine on their own.
