The Byrds
 In 1964, Jim McGuinn, David Crosby and Gene Clark began playing
folk music in coffeehouses around Los Angeles, calling themselves
The Jet Set. They eventually got a rhythm section - drummer
Michael Clarke and bassist Chris Hillman - and changed their name
to The Byrds, the spelling a homage to The
Beatles.
The Byrds' place in rock history was assured from the release
of their first single, the majestic Mr Tambourine Man, which in
its two minutes and 16 seconds offered the first authoritative
American riposte to the British
Invasion.
No matter that The Byrds
were falling over themselves to ape British fashions, Chris
Hillman flattening his curls in pursuit of a Beatles/Brian Jones
hairdo, their first hits effortlessly achieved the difficult trick
of satisfying the teen audience and suggesting that here was a
band with its own artistic agenda.
The early Byrds set out to provide the missing link between Bob
Dylan and The Beatles and succeeded with a sound that was all
their own. They also got some canny management who secured them a
recording deal with CBS and, as their first single, suggested a
cover of Bob
Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man. The marriage of Dylan's
lyrics to The Byrds' hypnotic, chiming swirl of 12-string guitar
and voices was a breakthrough in rock. It opened the door for a
new wave of American bands such as Buffalo
Springfield, Jefferson
Airplane, The Doors, Love and
Jimi Hendrix, and had an immediate
impact on the work of The Beatles (Rubber
Soul, Revolver) and
Dylan himself.
The Byrds' debut album, also titled Mr. Tambourine Man (1965),
was every bit as good as the single. Featuring a few more Dylan
covers (Spanish Harlem Incident, All I Really Want To
Do, Chimes
Of Freedom) and some stunning Gene Clark originals (Feel A Whole
Lot Better, I Knew I'd Want You), the set was unlike any other
group's, but was accessible and instantly appealing.
 The critics
called their sound 'folk-rock' and the label stuck. The fact that
none of the original members came from a rock background was
crucial to the creation of that sound. The roots of The Byrds lie
in folk, country, bluegrass, blues - even jazz.
The single and album were huge hits and in Los Angeles the
group began a residency at Ciro's nightclub on Sunset Strip, a
glamorous Hollywood hangout in the 1940's which had recently been
reopened. On stage they affected a studied West Coast cool. With
their backs to the audience, they would start by tuning up, an
almost endless process.
McGuinn wore funny little granny sunglasses and a strange,
crooked smile. Crosby had an enormous green suede cloak. Clark,
standing in the middle with a tambourine, looked dark, brooding
but nervous.
Meanwhile in the audience there were all sorts of
strange-looking young people. Lots of new drugs and words like
'psychedelic' were floating about, and The Byrds' music was the
perfect soundtrack. The California hippie era had begun.
The title track of their second album, Turn Turn Turn (1966) -
an inspired reworking of Pete Seeger's biblical folk tune - was
their second Number 1 single. There were two more Dylan songs (Lay
Down Your Weary Tune and The Times They Are A Changin'), two
excellent McGuinn efforts (He Was A Friend Of Mine, It Won't Be
Wrong) and three new Gene Clark songs (Set You Free This
Time,
World Turns All Around Her and Wait And See).
Only a year after their debut The Byrds were being hyped as
America's answer to The Beatles. They had both teen appeal and
musical credibility. In the next few years, they would record four
of the best and most influential records of the decade, but losing
most of their audience along the way and undergoing a bewildering
series of line-up changes. Gene Clark's last major contribution
were the lyrics for the band's finest single, Eight Miles High.
Even today this song sounds fresh and exciting, with its famous
opening bassline, a guitar break inspired by John Coltrane, and
Clark's queasy lyric about the band's first trip abroad to London.
Radio stations banned it, claiming it was a drug song, but the
single was Number 1 in a matter of weeks. Clark left shortly after
recording their third LP, Fifth Dimension (1966), an ambitious
progression of The Byrds' sound, chiefly because of McGuinn's
fascination with new studio technology.
While Hillman and Crosby were writing most of the songs for the
next LP, Younger Than Yesterday (1967), McGuinn was tightening his
grip on The Byrds' sound. The new album had room for everything
from Hugh Masekela's trumpet to droning sitar-like riffs, a brew
that may have been too rich for The Byrds' rapidly shrinking teen
audience but was perfectly in tune with a new underground
following who disdained hit singles but were coming to regard
albums as major artistic statements.
Crosby and Clarke left the band midway through sessions for the
next LP, The Notorious Byrd Brothers (1968). Crosby had been
spending most of his time hanging out with new groups like Buffalo
Springfield and Jefferson
Airplane, and was beginning to adopt
some of the revolutionary rhetoric of the time. None of this went
down well with the reserved McGuinn, and the two quickly fell out.
On the cover of The Notorious Byrd Brothers, Crosby's place in the
group photo was taken by a horse!.
Despite these upheavals the album still held together
remarkably well. The blend of pedal steel guitar, brass horn
sections and Moog synthesizer was worked seamlessly into a diverse
collection of songs including Carole
King's Goin' Back and Wasn't
Born To Follow. It wasn't a big seller but the studio-enhanced
sound effects were irresistible to the hemp and headphones crowd.
His band now reduced to just two members, McGuinn perversely
hit on the ambitious plan of recording a double album encompassing
the entire history of American popular music. (It was also around
this time that McGuinn changed his name from Jim to Roger in
keeping with the teachings of an Eastern religion he was taken
with.) The album concept was abandoned after the band drafted in
the brilliant singer and songwriter Gram Parsons for their next
LP, Sweetheart Of The Rodeo (1968) an album of straight country
music.
The mixture of Dylan covers, original songs and traditional
ballads was a marvellous corrective to the excesses of the
psychedelic era, but the record was a shock to their fans.
Although they had used elements of country music previously, they
had never approached it in such a purist way.
Parsons lasted only five months as a Byrd, quitting on the eve
of an ill-advised tour of South Africa. The band were assured they
would be playing before an integrated audience but wound up with
whites-only gigs. Their anti-apartheid comments met a hostile
reaction in the country's press and The Byrds found themselves
getting booed at the concerts. Hillman, disgusted with the tour
and finding the band's financial situation in chaos, angrily quit.
He and Parsons went on to form The Flying Burrito
Brothers.
McGuinn, now the only original member left, recruited, amongst
others, the dazzling guitarist Clarence White, and carried on
leading The Byrds for the next four years. Although they managed
to establish themselves as a credible live act, the albums from
here on were patchy.
There were a few more hit singles - notably the near gospel
Jesus Is Just Alright (1969) and the lovely Chestnut Mare from
Untitled (1970) - but after their last album for CBS, Farther
Along (1972), disappeared soon after release, McGuinn brought The
Byrds down for landing. However there would be one more album.
Unable to resist a lucrative offer from Asylum Records, the five
original members reunited in 1973 to record The Byrds. It was a
bizarre effort and the reviews were scathing. A planned tour was
abandoned, and all went their separate ways again.
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