Once again, I get to relate that I considered myself a real fan of Crosby, Stills, Nash and/or Young, without having hardly any of their records for years. And when it came to the solo (or duo) stuff, I had almost none of it. Way back in 1979, I picked up the “Graham Nash/David Crosby” album – and didn’t love it. That kinda put me off the ancillary efforts of the group, for a long time. Then, after my mania for Manassas of just a few years ago, I found myself playing a little bit of catchup and giving them a try again.
So, I never had “Songs for Beginners,” even though it’s been widely acknowledged as the best Graham Nash solo album. I’ve had a 45 of “Military Madness” for decades, and used to play it a lot back in my college days, but never had this album that it is taken from.
I love Nash’s voice, in The Hollies and CSN, and his songs for those groups are solid as well. This album, released in 1971, was written after a breakup from Joni Mitchell, and is pretty typical singer-songwriter stuff from the ’70s, intimate and fairly simple. But this album came at a time when I was moving more and more into funk and soul, stepping momentarily away from folk-rock, so it hasn’t had a lot of plays, I’ll admit.
It’s a lovely bit of work, I’ll say. It is, of course, an all-star affair (if a tiny bit less so than Crosby’s “If I Could Only Remember My Name”), the songs are strong, and the production is clean.
But speaking of all stars – Graham Nash was famously, frequently photographed by Henry Diltz, whose photos of the Laurel Canyon scene and way, way beyond defined an era. Probably any photo Henry ever took of CSNY was available to Graham for an album cover. And Graham has shown that he, too, is an excellent photographer. The images in his book “Eye to Eye” are stunning.
But Graham decided to use a photo he took himself for the album cover – a photo that is so blurry, out of focus, confusingly composed and low in resolution as to defy anyone to buy it. I mean, seriously – I don’t know how this album went gold.
The back cover – somehow worse than the front.
