Must Reads
CLIVE
We used to own the rock stars. But we never owned the executives.
But once upon a time, the executives were fans. But when they started believing they were more important than the acts, the business went downhill, rock died. It was only about the money, the soul was gone.
We were a necessary part of the rock equation. We built the stars, not MTV, not even radio. We were respected as opposed to ripped-off. We had soul. And part of our essence was our irreverence, our ability to question authority, to cry foul.
Read this reminiscence by "Creem"’s Bill Holdship. It’s priceless.
CARIBOU RANCH
Colorado used to be a fascination. Just read "Atlas Shrugged". And in the early seventies, rock stars embraced it too. Remember the cover of Stephen Stills’ solo debut? With him in his hiking boots, in the snow?
That was the early seventies, the back to the land movement.
And the musicians went back to the land too. To a Rocky Mountain high. At 8,600 feet above Boulder, near Nederland. That’s where they came to record at Caribou Ranch.
We knew about it from the credits. This place in the middle of nowhere that these cosmopolitan rockers went to lay down tracks.
It was owned by James William Guercio, of Chicago fame. But Chicago wasn’t the first act to record there. That was Joe Walsh. When he left the James Gang and recorded "Barnstorm".
He recorded "The Smoker You Drink…" there too.
The albums recorded at Caribou seemed to live in their own special place, their own unique world. Maybe that’s why we loved them so much.
It wasn’t only Stephen Stills and Joe Walsh and Dan Fogelberg, but Elton too.
The sun went down on the Caribou recording studio back in ’85, but Mark Brown of the "Rocky Mountain News" recently got a peek. With stories that will bring you right back to that era.
Read the words, watch the videos and listen to the audio.
But look at the picture of Stephen Stills in front of his guitars. Back before you went on "Cribs" and showed your home, first and foremost you were a musician. The tools of your trade were most important. We lived to hear the products of this woodshedding, this creativity. We’re still listening and learning today.
