In 1977, Crosby, Stills and Nash released their third album. The CSN record was a return to form for the trio after divergent yet successful solo careers that followed their 1969 debut and 1970 follow up as CSNY with Neil Young. Personality clashes were common between the triad, and even more so when Young’s heavy presence got involved.

After a successful 1977-1978 tour in support of the CSN album (also called the sailboat record), the guys failed to get a follow up record together. They spent time bouncing around and working on various solo projects while reuniting once for a loose performance at 1979’s No Nukes concert.

By the dawning of 1980 Stills had put together his California Blues Band and Nash released his Earth and Sky record to unreasonably tepid reviews. Originally planned as a Crosby and Nash project, the album became a solo effort when Crosby just couldn’t get his shit together. The trio reunited briefly for a benefit at the Hollywood Bowl in June where Croz looked and sounded a bit rough for wear.

Shortly after, Stills and Nash embarked on a duo project in Hawaii, while Croz convalesced in Los Angeles. Tensions were high in the group and Crosby took his being left out of the Stills and Nash sessions personally. The truth being that Crosby was just not dependable at this point in his life. Stills and Nash brought in Art Garfunkel and Timothy B. Schmidt to cover for Croz’s missing harmonies.

Additionally, the reality was that the music industry seemed to be passing them all by. No record label wanted to deal with CSN as solo artists, and getting the band together was not optimal or easy. Crosby said in David Zimmer’s biography on the band, “I didn’t want to stop working with Graham; I didn’t want to quit working with Crosby, Stills &  Nash. That was the best music I made in my whole life. And because it’s not happening, its hurting bad man.  But I gotta keep goin’, I gotta make music, even if it’s by myself because it’s still the main thing in my life.”

The only way for Crosby to keep going was to book studio time and try to put something together himself. In spring of 1980 Crosby booked time at Rudy Records and Brittania Studios. He compiled a group of musician friends and collaborators including keyboardist Craig Doergre, bass player Lee Sklar, and guitarist Larry Carlton as his band. Crosby later said that making a solo record was one of the strangest experiences of his life. He started to puzzle pieces tracks from his  previous decade of creativity into a cohesive format.

The sessions were successful enough that Crosby ended up recording 5 new songs. He also retrieved “Drive My Car,” from the failed CSN sessions and included an unreleased song he wrote with Jerry Garcia for the 1971 LP If I Could Only Remember My Name, called “Kids and Dogs.” He also planned to include one of his earlier compositions “Samurai,” and a live version of his unreleased song, “King of the Mountain,” which was played on dates during the 1976 Crosby/Nash tour.

Rejected by the record company for both musical and non-musical reasons the Crosby’s prospective album would languish in the vaults for perpetuity. Thankfully a number of songs have been mined from the sessions with four songs enduring their cryogenic freeze and being used for Crosby’s 1989 post sobriety record Oh Yes I Can.

A bootleg rough mix or listening copy of the entire proposed album, tentatively titled Might as Well Have a Good Time has circulated for several years. The “rock room” has analyzed this recording while also adding a few twists and turns for good measure here:

Melody:  A beautifully self-aware song that shows Crosby at his most fallible, yet acutely aware of his frailties, and thankful for his musical guardian angels. Crosby rescued the track from the tides and re-recorded it for his 1989 record Oh Yes I Can.  The original 1980 version has a shady kinetic edge that may be because of the fidelity of the recording. His 1989 re-recording contemporizes the song with current production and a clarity that rescues it from delaminating on a lost reel in a Los Angeles vault. The mid song break is quintessential Croz, spotlighting dramatic and layered vocals.

Drive My Car: Another song Crosby revisited for Oh Yes I Can, and it ended up opening the record.The original recording was for an ill-fated CSN session in late 1978 with the CSN touring band backing Croz. The 1989 version is full throttle and spotlights large, gated drums and phased slide guitar by David Lindley. The track would become an in-concert favorite for Crosby.

Delta: A stunning and underrated song that Crosby composed stoned out of his mind on his schooner the Mayan. He later finished on Warren Zevon’s piano with stern encouragement from Jackson Browne who told Crosby, “Finish it or I’ll break your arms.” The song would eventually get the full Crosby, Stills and Nash treatment and end up with a place on 1982’s Daylight Again. While the record would have spotty contributions from Crosby, this song was a powerful statement. A spacious drift over silt and sand and into the sweet freedom of open water Crosby beautifully illustrates a life of choice and chance.

Kids & Dogs: A legendary song from the vaults recorded during the fruitful sessions for Crosby’s 1971 LP If I Could Only Remember My Name. Featuring Jerry Garcia and Crosby on acoustic guitars, “Kids and Dogs,” is a playful musical love fest between two like-minded geniuses. The song would finally see an official release on the 2006 Crosby boxset Voyage.

Flying Man: Another one of those strange wordless Crosby melody’s that lie just below the surface of the breakers. The song was composed around the same time as another Crosby/Doerge collaboration, “Shadow Captain.” The original version cut in 1980 has low fidelity but sounds like it transposed to the 1989 version seamlessly. The tune cruses just inches above the water with trademark Crosby changes and breeze through the hair keyboard washes.

Might as Well Have a Good Time: A song written by Craig Doegre and Judy Henske and planned to be the title of Crosby’s 1980 record. Doegre encouraged Crosby to cover the song originally, and it fit like a hand in glove. An old rocker standing on a jagged shoreline wondering whether to sink or swim. The sparce piano based number cut close to the bone and found a place on 1982’s Daylight Again, outfitted with soaring Stills and Nash harmonies. A demo version of the song also circulates but stays close to the released reading.

Distances: With a delicate descending guitar line, the song begs for intimacy both mentally and physically. The song is a favorite of the “rock room” from the 1980 sessions. Crosby also performed the song at shows in 1979. The re-recording a decade later stayed tight to that original arrangement. The Oh Yes I Can version is definitive, with both conversational and sweetly sung Crosby vocals. Instrumentally the tune spotlights George “Chocolate” Perry on bass, Danny Kortchmar on guitar, and Nash on electric piano.

King of the Mountain: A song he demoed and played in concert in 1974 but never released officially on a record, Crosby wanted to include a live version on his 1980 record. The song is believed to be a commentary on his bandmate Stephen Stills. Crosby’s original demo is spectral with only Crosby’s voice and his 12-string guitar carrying the melody. The versions played on the 1976 Crosby/Nash tour were epics featuring a Craig Doegre piano solo and stark Crosby vocals that stand as some of his best from the era. The reissue of the  Crosby/Nash Live record includes a version recorded at the Shaefer Music Festival, Central Park, NY on 10 September 1976 as a bonus track.

Samurai: A song that Crosby carried around for years just like his subject’s sword. A solo performance was recorded on May 26, 1980, at Rudy Records with only Crosby’s soulful vocals as the instrumentation. A disorienting multitracked version believed to be from the same session circulates in collectors’ circles and can be found on a 1980’s bootleg called Best Two of Three. Crosby and Nash would record the definitive of the song almost 25 years later for their self-titled 2004 duo record replete with stacked and orchestrated Crosby Nash harmonies.

While David Crosby’s 1980 solo album never came to fruition its musical riches were dispersed across years of musical projects. It’s a special glimpse into his creativity to consolidate these songs into a cohesive vision that Crosby was unable to see clearly at the time. Despite his personal struggles, Crosby recovered in the late 1980’s and spent the last decades of his life more prolific than he had ever been. Crosby was always looking forward, so it’s nice to take this look back into his history.