CSNY: CARRY ON?

DAVID CROSBY and GRAHAM NASH talk to Peter Doggett

Dallas, April 2002: tickets near the stage cost $160, and $10 Crosby, Stills and Nash T-shirts were selling for $45 because Neil Young’s name now appeared on the back. Another cynical outing for the money-making machine that is the classic rock industry? Of course.

But for once, it was a pleasure to be fleeced. On stage that night in a Texas basketball arena were four individuals who could once claim to be the biggest band in the world. Nearly 35 years into their California saga, 2002 found Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young fulfilling every promise they’d ever made. For three hours or more, they lived up to their legend — four diversely talented musicians combining spirits and songs to a greater end. Maybe they didn’t check their egos at the door (there’s no cloakroom big enough). But for perhaps the first time ever, CSNY were a band, not a civil war about to explode. And anyone who has ever fallen under the spell of that fantasy, even once, should hang their heads in despair that they didn’t get fleeced the way I did.

What do we want from CSNY? Three- and four-part harmonies so tight that you couldn’t slip a $500 dollar bill between them. The instrumental chops to handle both frenzied rock’n’roll and gossamer-frail acoustic laments. From Crosby, that bell-like …

by Peter Doggett
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