ASPEN — The forces of the universe occasionally appear to tap a person
on the shoulder and let them know, in subtle and obvious ways, that they
are destined for something beyond the ordinary. David Crosby isn’t
entirely convinced that he is among those — but neither has he dismissed
the possibility.
“It seems as if they intended me to do this job,” said the singer,
songwriter and guitarist, by phone from his home in southern California.
“But who knows?”
It’s hard to dispute that Crosby’s 66 years have been marked by enough
momentous events — personal and public, praise-worthy and notorious — to
cause speculation about the involvement of the cosmos. On the musical
side, he is a two-time inductee into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame — as
a member of the Byrds, who invented the folk-rock genre in the mid-’60s;
and with Crosby, Stills & Nash, which helped pioneer the concept of the
“supergroup.” Even those two groups haven’t fully contained Crosby’s
output; he has released a series of albums with longtime partner Graham
Nash, and with his most recent group, CPR, which includes his son, James
Raymond. His creative peak might have come with “If I Could Only
Remember My Name,” a 1970 album credited to Crosby alone, but which
featured contributions from Joni Mitchell and members of the Grateful
Dead and Jefferson Airplane. Crosby discovered Mitchell, bringing the
singer to Los Angeles and earning a producer’s credit of Mitchell’s
first album.
The musical legacy is matched by a personal life that could fill a copy
of People magazine. His drug and alcohol use, and possession of guns,
have led to several high-profile arrests, and even a months-long stint
in a Texas prison in the mid-’80s.
He was the recipient of a donor liver in 1995. In the mid-’90s, Crosby
was united with Raymond, his biological son who had been given up for
adoption at birth; the two formed a successful band. Crosby also is the
biological father, by artificial insemination, of two children of singer
Melissa Etheridge.
Crosby has not been shy in detailing these episodes. He has written two
volumes of memoirs, including 2006’s “Since Then: How I Survived
Everything and Lived to Tell About It.” (Crosby also has published
“Stand and Be Counted,” a 2000 book of interviews exploring celebrity
involvement with social causes.)
“My life has all happened in public anyway, so there’s no sense trying
to hide it. So much stuff happened after I wrote the first one, it
demanded that I have another,” explained Crosby, who appears Tuesday at
Belly Up Aspen, in the Aspen Writers’ Foundation’s Lyrically Speaking
series. The event will include an on-stage interview of Crosby,
conducted by senior editor of American Songwriting magazine Paul Zollo,
as well as solo performances of his songs.
Crosby’s output — including such hits as the politically inspired “Long
Time Gone,” the defiant “Almost Cut My Hair,” and the trippy “Déja Vu” —
reflect, he says, the way he has lived, with few boundaries. “I’m not a
cautious person, and so my songwriting is not cautious,” said Crosby,
whose work was summarized in the three-CD box set “Voyage,” released in
2006. “You write them, and they happen every which way. It would take me
an hour to describe all the ways I write.”
Some of his greatest work has come in the aftermath of tragedy. After
his girlfriend Christine Hinton was killed in a car wreck, Crosby began
writing the songs that would appear on “If I Could Only Remember My
Name.”
“It was a very odd time, and I was really sad,” he reflected. “The music
was the only thing making me happy. In fact, it was the only thing
keeping me afloat.”
A personal high-point in song-making, Crosby believes, came with
“Guinnevere,” a delicate, evocative and imagery-filled romance that
appeared on CS&N’s 1969 debut. “I love ‘Guinnevere’ a lot,” he said.
“Everything about it. I love it that it’s different.”
Crosby says he doesn’t accept the oft-told story that another one of his
songs — “Triad,” about three-way sexual encounters — was responsible for
his parting ways with the Byrds. “No, I don’t think it’s true,” he said.
“I don’t think it was their favorite song. But there were a lot of
personal clashes.”
Former Aspenite Steve Postell, who has worked with Crosby, says that
Crosby, as a lyricist, found a place between the dense songs of Bob
Dylan and Leonard Cohen on one side, and light pop on the other.
“In the middle were these guys” — Crosby, as well as Graham Nash and
Stephen Stills, who often wrote in teams — “who weren’t doing either,
exactly,” said Postell, whose Aspen band, Little Blue, opened several
shows at the Wheeler Opera House for CPR, and whose forthcoming album,
“Time’s Still Knocking,” features a contribution from Crosby on vocals.
“It was extremely imaginative. Great stories, images. And all extremely
lyrical — the words are music. Everything flows. There’s no shiftiness,
no jerkiness in his singing, his phrasing, his lyrics. It’s an elegant
flow.”
Postell also noted that Crosby’s words are well-informed. “These guys —
they’re really smart,” he said. “They’re well-read, politically astute.
Crosby’s a very alive person, very smart. Even with all the drugs and
other stuff, he still comes out as a real observer of the world.”
If anything, Postell is even more impressed with Crosby’s vocal gifts.
For “You’re Still Here,” a song from “Time’s Still Knocking” co-written
by Postell and James Raymond, Crosby’s part had been written out. But
when Crosby sang the lines, they came out nothing like Postell had
imagined. It was much improved.
“The way he sang it was this much more interesting melody. So
reminiscent of CS&N — but it wasn’t when we wrote it,” he said. “It’s
all very instinctual with him.
“There’s only a handful of people who sing four notes, and you know who
it is.”
To Postell, the combination of the flowing words and sublime voice leave
listeners with the impression that Crosby’s songs were somehow meant to
be written.
“There’s no effort in this music,” he observed. “These are songs that
feel like they just have to be there.”
David Crosby appears Tuesday at 8 p.m. in the Aspen Writers’
Foundation’s Lyrically Speaking series. Tickets are $50 to the show at
Belly Up Aspen, 450 S. Galena St.
