The Byrds “Untitled” 

 

This is another of those one live lp and one studio lp lps. The live lp shows what a piss-poor live act The Byrds were. Weak vocals, uninspired rhythm section, tinny sounding lead guitar like it’s played through a practice amp with all the settings on treble. I do not know when and where it was recorded but surely they could have chosen a night when Roger McGuinn did not sound like he has a sore throat. 

 

They play some of their hits on the live side. “So You Want To Be a Rock’n’Roll Star” is, of course, the world’s most patronising song. They stumble their way through “Mr Tambourine Man” accompanied by some of the most inappropriate guitar accompaniment. On “Mr Spaceman” (and indeed on all the live tracks) the lead guitar imagines it is a shit-hot Nashville session pedal steel player. Unfortunately, it is mistaken in this belief. Worst of all, the whole of side 2 of the lp is taken up with a 16-minute version of “Eight Miles High”. A great and innovative single is turned into a miasma of fetid turgidness. It is thoroughly uninteresting. Unbelievably, it incorporates a bass solo. Amon Duul showed on “Yeti” how to make extended extemporising interesting. As did Cream throughout their live career. The Byrds show why you should need a government licence before being allowed anywhere near this sort of shenanigans. I have a theory that because of the influence of jazz, American rock musicians imagined themselves capable of similar flights of lengthy explorations. However, they lack the technical knowledge to base their improvising on any sort of modality or knowledge of harmony. Most importantly, they forget they are a rock band and the chief signifier of which is a knowledge of dynamics and how to employ them. That is why non-American bands are far better at any sort of extended work (longer than 5 minutes, basically). 

 

The studio side is better. “Chestnut Mare” is a strange song that shows the influence on its writing of Jacques Levy, a theatre director who would late collaborate with Bob Dylan on his “Desire” lp. The singer of the song compares the titular horse to being just like a wife, which is a tad strange to say the least. He also wants to make the horse/wife his brand which suggests an unwoke dynamic. However, the song does have a strong chorus and is memorable. The same cannot be said for most of the other songs on the lp. The tunes are forgettable, the playing is uninspired and the vocals are listless. The overall effect is soporific. Compare this with what The Rolling Stones were doing at the same time with similar material. Where The Byrds are polite and respectful of the material, wanting to play it well and make it sound good, the Stones attack the songs and sound the more convincing for it. The Byrds do not sound as if they believe in what they are singing and playing. It is forgettable in that you forget what you are listening to while it is still playing. A poor and pointless record. 

 

They look like wankers on the cover too.