They met in a 1966 Sunset Strip traffic jam and took their name from the words they spotted on a steamroller -- Buffalo Springfield.
They had just one Top 10 hit, and none of their three albums ever dented the Top 40. They broke up after only 25 months.
Yet in 1997, Buffalo Springfield was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which called it "an American supergroup that didn't exist long enough to be recognized as such."
Its three key founders certainly won recognition. Stephen Stills became one-third of Crosby, Stills & Nash, which was eventually joined by fellow Springfield member Neil Young. Meanwhile, Richie Furay founded Poco with latter-day Springfielder Jim Messina (who found his greatest fame later, teaming up with Kenny Loggins). All those bands experienced a level of commercial success that eluded Buffalo Springfield.
Rhino Records' long-anticipated, four-CD Buffalo Springfield box set, to arrive in stores Tuesday, makes clear the band's abundant gifts. No American group from that era featured as much songwriting and instrumental talent, though the Byrds came close. Both bands helped seed the folk-rock and country-rock movements that swept into the mainstream in the '70s; without them, it's hard to imagine the Eagles, for example.
But the set also exposes Buffalo Springfield's fatal flaw: its members' outsize egos, particularly that of the musically brilliant control freak Neil Young. Young is at it again on this remastered collection, which took 10 years to finish but nonetheless features debatable choices and notable omissions. In particular, three of the 12 songs on "Last Time Around," the band's final statement, are not here in any form, even though many other Buffalo Springfield tunes are included twice.
Among the box set's 88 tracks are 36 that were previously unreleased. Most are original demos of material eventually addressed by the band or in subsequent solo recordings -- or songs that, probably wisely, never made the original cut.
The first two albums, "Buffalo Springfield" and "Buffalo Springfield Again," appear on Disc 4 (the first in its original monaural, the second in stereo), even though the same 23 tracks already appear on the first three CDs, a typically Youngian redundancy.
Its lineup filled out by bassist Bruce Palmer and former Dillards drummer Dewey Martin, Buffalo Springfield was probably most at peace while working on the debut album, before creative synergies gave way to creative differences. Each singer had a distinctive voice -- Furay's sweet smoothness, Stills's bluesy tenor, Young's high quiver -- that meshed into potent harmonies. And both Young and Stills were distinctive lead guitarists, though their best work was several years away.
As songwriters, Stills and Young dominated the debut album with seven and five songs, respectively. Their creative dichotomy is immediately evident, pitting Young's melancholy melodies and structural adventurousness ("Flying on the Ground Is Wrong," "Out of My Mind") against Stills's hookier pop-country sensibilities ("Sit Down, I Think I Love You," and "For What It's Worth," which rose to No. 7 on the singles chart and would come to symbolize the social turbulence of the '60s).
That debut album may have been the only real group effort; everything afterward sounded like solo projects surrendered to the band. Stylistic diversity may have been the group's hallmark, but a lack of coherence also made it hard to discern a distinct Buffalo Springfield sound. And internal dissension, which began when Young's "Nowadays Clancy Can't Even Sing" supplanted Stills's "Go and Say Goodbye" as the A-side on the band's first single, set the stage for power struggles between those two that would continue over the next 30 years.
Buffalo Springfield never reached its full potential. While "Again" is generally considered the band's best album, it is a collection of solo tracks in which Young and Stills seem mainly intent on satisfying their own needs (Furay finally got a couple of his songs included as well: "Sad Memory" and "A Child's Claim to Fame," a not-so-subtle attack on Young). Young contributed the urgent "Mr. Soul" and the psychedelic sound collages "Expecting To Fly" and "Broken Arrow," while Stills served up "Rock and Roll Woman" and "Bluebird," which probably came closest to capturing the band's incendiary live energy.
Among the 36 new tracks, there is nothing transcendent, nothing to inspire any serious reconsideration of Buffalo Springfield's legacy. The often-solo demos of subsequently released songs are interesting as works in progress. For instance, the haunting melody of 1967's "The Rent Is Always Due" reappeared a year later on "Last Time Around" as the much stronger "I Am a Child" (Young's only vocal appearance on that album); a 12-string solo demo of "Round and Round and Round" predates by two years the sinewy "Round and Round" from Young's second solo album.
Among the more interesting oddities: Young's poppy "There Goes My Babe" (originally intended for Sonny and Cher!) and the music hall ditty "I'm Your Kind of Guy"; the wobbly psychedelic surf-twang of "Kahuna Sunset" and proto-jam sound of "Buffalo Stomp"; Stills's lovely Beatlesque ballad "So You've Got a Lover."
The biggest mystery about the Rhino set is why "Last Time Around" was treated like a stepchild. "Merry-Go-Round," "The Hour of Not Quite Rain" (with lyrics by the teenage winner of a radio promotion -- the only song credit the band gave to a non-member) and new bassist Jim Messina's only vocal showcase, "Carefree Country Day," are all missing. Stills's draft dodger rag, "Four Days Gone," appears in a demo even more wistful than the finished album track. Two other tunes, "On the Way Home" and "Pretty Girl Why," appear only in alternate takes.
Another surprising omission from the box set: a bootlegged nine-minute alternate studio version of "Bluebird" that was released on a 1973 double-album retrospective. Though it captures more of the band's performance energy, Stills and Young apparently hated it at the time and banished it from this collection. Like many of the decisions made (mostly by Young, one suspects), this one comes across as sonic airbrushing and nitpicking revisionism.
In addition, the set's liner notes leave much to be desired: There are archival photos and magazine clips, but the hagiographic essays are a bit Young-centric. For a better, balanced historical overview, seek out the out-of-print "For What It's Worth: The Story of Buffalo Springfield," written by Furay and John Einarson.
For a brief moment in the mid- to late '60s, Buffalo Springfield challenged the domination of British bands and carved out a crucial, ultimately influential, niche in rock music. Last year, on his "Silver and Gold" album, Neil Young wrote a song called "Buffalo Springfield Again." Some folks interpreted that as Young opening the door to a reunion album or tour, but this Rhino box feels more like a coffin, consigning the group to ancient, albeit hallowed, history.
(To hear free Sound Bites from this box set, call Post-Haste at 202-334-9000 and press 8162 and 8163.)
© 2001 The Washington Post Company
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