I have always thought of Poco as one of those bands that was
always in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were the victims of
ridiculous circumstance, both in the band’s internal politics and the music
industry’s attempt to cash in on the next big thing. It is sad, too. Poco is,
and always has been, a freaking STELLAR band. The heck with genre labels and
all of that BS. Poco is just a great band with fantastic musicians, especially
in their prime.
Poco’s notorious mishandling by record companies rose from
Richie Furay & Jim Messina’s involvement in Buffalo Springfield. As that
band had been contracted to Atlantic Records, so went their individual
contracts. But along came Crosby, Still s & Nash, whose contracts were held
by Columbia
records (The Byrds, The Hollies). Atlantic Records was foaming at the mouth
(and rightly so in hindsight) to acquire
the rights to CSN. So a swap was made between the two recording industry giants
straight up; group for group. And the rest is history.
Poco began a long-simmering successful run with CBS records.
The original band members were: Furay, Messina ,
George Grantham on drums, Randy Meisner on Bass and 6-string session maestro
Rusty Young on all manner of country-tinged guitars. All the members were
fantastic musicians and their harmonies were legendary. The band was at the
forefront (for good or bad) of the “Country Rock” movement in pop music that
began with The Byrds & The Springfield and ultimately peaked with the
Eagles a few years later. They never fully emerged from being boxed into that
demographic.
By the release of the LP “Crazy Eyes” in 1973, from which
this song hails, all but Grantham & Young remained as members. Meisner had
left for the Eagles being replaced by Timothy B. Schmidt. Paul Cotton had been
added as an additional vocalist & guitarist. Furay appeared on the record
but left the band 11 days prior the release of the record to form yet another
supergroup: The Souther, Hillman Furay Band with Texas songwroiter J.D. Souther and Chris
Hillman from a stint with the Byrds.
Poco was, and still is one of my favorite American bands. I
stress American because their sound evokes the West to me. By West I don’t mean
simple, sappy “drunk in my whisky cause you left me baby” way but in lyrics and
playing that evokes big sky, glowing sunsets and wild horses. Poco. Long may
they run.
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