byrdsongs, xv

Through love and trust it’s gonna work out fine.  Hmm.  Well, that kind of casual stoner commonsense didn’t work out so well in the end.  But I can relate to the desirability of the vision even though it sounds so very quaint 45 years later, and even though it’s an expression of defeat.  I’m not even sure McGuinn plays on either one of Chris Hillman’s rustic flavored gems on Younger Than Yesterday.   I don’t hear the jangle of his 12-string, but maybe it’s just that he’s completely overshadowed by the nimble Kentucky twang of Clarence White’s playing. The harmonies on Time Between  are positively Beach Boys-esque, but the vibe is farther north up the PCH, Topanga Canyon to be exact, and the song will transport you, in an orange Karmen Gia, up one of the canyon’s twisting dusty roads.   That distinct woodsy essence permeates the air, the special scent that’s so specific to the mountain ranges of Southern California.  The Byrds are playing on the radio. The big fat number you rolled for the trip burns in the ash tray.  Take it slow because you never know when a goat or chicken or dog or feral cat might cross the road. You’re so far from the hubbub. It’s so peaceful, so lush and green, so different from the life you’ve known up to now.  And that’s the whole point, to try and make things groovy again…