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McGuinn, Clark & Hillman [extended]
- Byrds [Asylum, 1973]
C
- Roger McGuinn [Columbia, 1973]
B
- Peace on You [Columbia, 1974]
C+
- Roger McGuinn & Band [Columbia, 1975]
C
- Cardiff Rose [Columbia, 1976]
B-
- Thunderbyrd [Columbia, 1977]
B
- McGuinn, Clark & Hillman [Capitol, 1979]
C
- Live From Mars [Hollywood, 1997]
See Also:
Consumer Guide Reviews:
Gene Clark, Chris Hillman, David Crosby, Roger McGuinn, Michael Clarke: Byrds [Asylum, 1973]
Don't believe the title, believe the artist listing. The difference is between a group, committed however fractiously to a coherent collective identity, and a bunch of stars fabricating a paper reconciliation. Maybe if Gary Usher had produced, as promised, this would be more than the country-rock supersession David Crosby has granted us--because maybe Usher would have persuaded the boys to let go of the songs they're saving for their solo albums. C
Roger McGuinn: Roger McGuinn [Columbia, 1973]
From L.A. session men to Charles Lloyd eight-miles-high to Bruce Johnston ooh-ooh to Clark, Clarke, Crosby, Hillman & McGuinn, Roger's solo debut sounds more coherent than any Byrds album since Sweetheart of the Rodeo, which must prove he's an auteur. Jacques Levy plays the Gram Parsons catalyst, but since Levy only writes lyrics the chemistry is a good deal less powerful. And it does worry me that Levy worked on all the good cuts: the ones about highjacking, love in Vietnam and "my new woman," and especially "I"m So Restless," the best state-of-the-music song since "All the Young Dudes." B
Roger McGuinn: Peace on You [Columbia, 1974]
McGuinn seems to have done a whole album about breaking up with his wife or somebody. Which is fine, no law against it. But real country singers have more of a knack for such things. When Charlie Rich sings "God ain't gonna love you" (in the title tune, which Rich wrote), the blasphemy comes as a shock. McGuinn just sounds churlish. C+
Roger McGuinn: Roger McGuinn & Band [Columbia, 1975]
And band's songs. C
Roger McGuinn: Cardiff Rose [Columbia, 1976]
I'd written him off before Rolling Thunder, too, but this record, produced by fellow Roller Ronson and featuring various tour buddies, rocks wilder than anything he ever did with the Byrds. Unfortunately, it's more confusing than astonishing. The factitious folk songs about piracy and the Holy Grail make fewer contemporary connections than the real folk song "Pretty Polly." Ditto the previously unrecorded donations from fellow Rollers Mitchell and Dylan. Imagining how Dylan might sing "Up to Me," which sounds like a forerunner of "Simple Twist of Fate," you begin to miss the quavery McGuinn or yore. And the song that's actually about Rolling Thunder is pretty sickening. B-
Roger McGuinn: Thunderbyrd [Columbia, 1977]
I hate the name-dropping title, but this is McGuinn's best since his solo debut, including a tongue-in-cheek version of Dylan's mystical-romantic "Golden Loom," a psychedelic reminiscence, and good-to-great covers from George Jones, Tom Petty, and--the conceptual triumph--Peter Frampton. B
McGuinn, Clark & Hillman [Capitol, 1979]
Despite the occasional Byrdsy guitar run, this is pure supersession, a purposeful AOR move by pros out for a quick killing, anonymously accomplished in the music and contentless in the lyrics. Granted, McGuinn's vocals are outstanding--look at the company he's keeping--and his "Don't You Write Her Off" is a genuine grabber. But it's also the simplest thing on the record. Moral: at least you can make having nothing to say sound like fun. C
Roger McGuinn: Live From Mars [Hollywood, 1997]
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