J.D. Souther
Spotify playlist: https://t.ly/OL2Jm
1
Word was he was an as*hole, self-satisfied, difficult to work with.
But when I met him he was anything but.
The rep was spread in the press in the wake of the combustion of the Souther—Hillman—Furay Band. But Richie Furay told me he was responsible for the breakup. It was either the band or his marriage, and he chose his marriage. Richie said he was checked out during the recording of the second LP, “Trouble in Paradise,” and that’s why it suffered. It sank like a stone. But the debut…
“Life ain’t so easy in this border town
Too much dope and too much running around”
I think that’s when I first heard from J.D., after writing about “Border Town,” his song that finished out the first side of “The Souther—Hillman—Furay Band.” J.D. didn’t just paint pictures, his songs were three-dimensional, you could see inside them, and if you couldn’t identify, you wish you could.
And awareness of J.D. jumped when the Eagles broke big, which was really on their third album, “On the Border,” “Desperado” was a masterpiece, but despite the iconic status of the title cut, the album stalled in the marketplace. It was when the band jettisoned Glyn Johns, an English engineer-producer, for the American mind-set of Bill Szymczyk, who opened up the sound, let it loose, that the Eagles became the biggest band in the land.
Yes, the debut had “Take It Easy,” but you’ve got to know that that broke first on AM, instantly, unlike most of the credible acts, who started on FM and crossed over. The album was slick and perfect, and the connoisseurs, still baked in the ethos of the sixties, labeled it a trifle, something akin to the Starland Vocal Band. Boy were they wrong.
It was the “On the Border” number “Best of My Love” that made the Eagles iconic. They’d been in the game for three LPs, so there was no backlash, and this time they went all the way to number one.
And that song was cowritten by J.D. Souther, along with Don Henley and Glenn Frey.
So J.D.’s name was starting to permeate the public consciousness. If for no other reason than he was Linda Ronstadt’s boyfriend, who was not yet America’s sweetheart, but if you were in the know…
Expectations were high. David Geffen had negotiated her off Capitol, put her on his juggernaut of a label, Asylum. And J.D. co-produced her first record for the company, “Don’t Cry Now,” the title track of which he wrote.
J.D. was all over the album. Which stiffed in the marketplace. It was only when Linda went back in with Peter Asher and recorded “Heart Like a Wheel” that she exploded, on Capitol, which was owed one new album of their choice, and when they heard “Heart Like a Wheel” they selected it.
But this smash was followed up by 1975’s “Prisoner in Disguise” on Asylum, whose title track J.D. wrote.
I’d say he was a mystery man, but J.D. put out his own album on Asylum, in 1972, just after the label launched, and it was a complete stiff. You’d see it in the bins, but no one I knew bought it, and in truth the sound just wasn’t right, too thin, not rich enough.
But my point here is if you were scoring at home, you knew who J.D. Souther was, but if you were an average music fan, you did not.
Unless you read the credits on “Heart Like a Wheel,” because J.D. wrote one of the most meaningful cuts on the entire album, “Faithless Love.”
Faithless love like a river might flow, but it was the bridge that was indelible.
“Well I guess I’m standing in the hall of broken dreams
That’s the way it sometimes goes
Whenever a new love never turns out like it seems
I guess the feeling comes and goes”
And then in the spring of 1974, came “The Souther—Hillman—Furay Band.”
2
This was Richie Furay’s last shot, his best shot. He’d been the frontman on the delicious debut by Poco, but despite stellar reviews and love from everybody who purchased it, the album didn’t succeed commercially. And Poco continued to put out albums, people knew who they were, but Jim Messina left and it was a long hard slog.
So Richie jumped for this supergroup concocted by David Geffen.
Chris Hillman was the overlooked Byrd.
And then there was J.D. Souther, who was not a household name, who had not had commercial success equal to the other two (don’t forget Richie was in Buffalo Springfield). And the album came out and…
It opened with “Fallin’ in Love,” a classic Furay cut ready for airplay and acceptance, but it wasn’t a hit single.
And then came Chris Hillman’s number, “Heavenly Fire,” which showed us Hillman was more than a sideman in the Byrds.
And after that J.D. shined, with “The Heartbreaker.”
“He’s Mr. Deliver
He never lets you down
And now the life wrecker
Is comin’ to town”
People today have no idea of the iconic status of rock stars in the sixties and seventies. It was much more than image, it was about lifestyle. They inhabited a world we could never enter, because we just were not cool enough. Sure, money mattered, but not as much as charisma. These guys were not playing by society’s rules, and they were winning. Got all the girls… And you wonder why people moved to Los Angeles?
And after Richie’s “Believe Me,” came J.D.s aforementioned “Border Town.” And just like with “The Heartbreaker,” for the first time J.D.’s numbers got the production they deserved, that elevated them out of the woodwork to shine. This was more than coffee shop singer-songwriter.
Life sure wasn’t easy in that border town, but you couldn’t wait to go there.
And many did, at least in their minds. Despite being decried in the rock press as a fake group, this time the public caught on, “The Souther—Hillman—Furay Band” went gold, you heard it on the radio, suddenly J.D.’s performances were not living in obscurity.
And then the band broke up.
3
But then came “Black Rose.”
The hottest producer of singer-songwriters was Peter Asher. He turned James Taylor and Linda Ronstadt into superstars. And now J.D. surrendered the reins to him.
There were no hit singles. But “Black Rose” was a masterpiece. It contained J.D.’s versions of songs made big by Linda Ronstadt, and although it started with the upbeat, jaunty, “Banging My Head Against the Moon” and then the quiet dirge of “If You Have Crying Eyes,” the album truly came alive with the song in the middle of the first side, “Your Turn Now.”
“The moon was yellow
And the sky was cool
The night can make a promise of love
Or it can make you a fool”
I sing these lines in my head more than any other. Maybe it’s because they exude optimism, they’re upbeat, if you just play the game, you could lose, but you could also win!
“Would anybody know it
If the real thing shined
You’ve seen so many movies
You’d probably think it was a line”
I was in love with the movie stars. Maybe I wasn’t the only one. But ultimately you have to enter the real world, and it’s so confusing. You could find someone real and never know.
“Well maybe it’s your turn now
You’d be falling in love but you wouldn’t know how”
All we hear about are the winners, the school champions, with girlfriends since puberty. But the rest of us?
We were not experienced, not that we would admit it.
“Let me tell you I can fight like a man
And cry like a little boy”
This is a vulnerability you don’t hear in today’s Top Forty material, certainly not in hip-hop. So much of today’s music slides off the listener, but in the past, it went straight to the heart.
“If passion is always kind
How can love be cruel”
So many people my age no longer want to risk getting into relationships, they don’t want to experience the pain of disconnection, a breakup.
“Maybe it’s your turn
And you’ll never know
If you’re afraid to hold on tighter
And you’re afraid to let go”
That’s what love requires, hanging on tighter. You’d be surprised who is unable to do this. I guess they call it fear of commitment. But it’s more than that, it’s not wanting to journey into the unknown. And then there’s the opposite, sometimes you need to let go but you can’t, you don’t want to lose whatever good you’ve still got.
4
Now the other stellar, iconic track on “Black Rose” was also new, having appeared nowhere previously, “Baby Come Home.”
This is a song for anybody who’s ever been left, anybody who’s broken up and regrets it. Every word is brilliant, but there’s one passage…
“If you could trust me, try to believe me
Listen to me when I say
When I say that love, is a burning fire
And it will not fade away
No, it will not fade away”
Whew!
And then two and a half minutes in, the chorus sings “Baby come home” as J.D. expresses regret and desire and it’s just amazing.
5
And there’s a quiet version of “Faithless Love” that I prefer to Ronstadt’s.
Ditto on “Silver Blue.”
And without Ronstadt’s powerful lung capacity “Simple Man, Simple Dream” gains gravitas. The meaning shines through.
And the title track, “Black Rose,” is the finale.
“I see you carry a black rose
Carry a black rose”
Tom Petty may have sung that the A&R man didn’t hear a single, but that was in 1991. This was 1976. You could go quite far without ever appearing on AM radio. You could have fans. You didn’t live in obscurity like those who don’t make the Spotify Top 50 today. You could tour and…
J.D. wasn’t on the road. But those records existed.
6
But then J.D. switched labels from Asylum to Columbia, after all David Geffen was long gone, and had a hit! “You’re Only Lonely” had a retro, fifties feel, and it resonated with the public.
And the label also included his version of another number Ronstadt had covered, “White Rhythm and Blues.”
“You say that somebody really loves you
You’d find her if you just knew how”
No one else wrote lyrics quite the same way.
And, once again, J.D.’s understated vocals let the words shine through, more than in Linda’s version.
But even bigger than 1979’s “You’re Only Lonely” was J.D.’s unexpected duet with James Taylor, “Her Town Too.”
“But now he’s gone and life goes on”
That’s J.D.’s line. A distinct contrast to James’s mellifluous vocal.
And then he comes back with:
“Yes, and everyone can see you fall”
And:
“Somebody still loves you”
J.D. injects gravitas. He specialized in that. He could make any number just a bit more serious with his participation.
Unlike the “You’re Only Lonely” album, “Her Town Too” was produced by Peter Asher, and sounded like it. Rich. And meaningful, without being overbearing. By this time most baby boomers had experienced breakups, they could identify, and aren’t the the songs that resonate the ones you hold closest to your chest?
J.D. released another solo LP in 1984, but it didn’t even break the Top 200. The eras had changed. Now it was about MTV and flash. Immediacy. And J.D. specialized in something more cerebral.
And then he showed up in “thirtysomething.” As cool as ever.
J.D. was also in “Postcards from the Edge,” but his acting career never blossomed into something bigger.
7
And then it was 2007, hell had already frozen over, back in 1994, and there’d been a few new tracks, but now the Eagles took the long road out of Eden and decided to lead with… “How Long”? A J.D. Souther song? From his very first album?
J.D. was back on the radio. The double album was sold exclusively by Walmart and the single made a dent, unlike the work by oldsters today. This was not the new Billy Joel single, the new work of Steve Perry. “How Long” did not sink like a stone, it was actually a radio hit.
And then J.D. came out of the woodwork.
It was a new century, with new rules. He hired a young management team and put out the jazzy live album “If the World Was You,” and hit the road. Suddenly, J.D. was ACCESSIBLE!
Friendly, talkative and open.
What he was most proud of was his daughter, whom most people were unaware existed. She was in school in Paris and… Whenever I spoke with J.D. she came up.
Along with his Volvo.
And then he left NashVegas for New Mexico, tripped and…
“Hey Bob
I’d love to do your podcast. I missed a lot of emails this year I apologize, something I’ve had to become skilled at in the last few months. I moved to New Mexico, which was interesting enough with two young frisky dogs but then tripped on a marble step in my new house (1ST MORNING!!) broke a rib and punctured a lung so my first week in The Land of Enchantment was spent at Presbyterian Hospital with a chest drain in my right side and the next few weeks spent trying to settle into the new place with various visiting friends to help and a great TM who stepped up and made it possible.
It’s been a zoo but things are beginning to settle down at last.
Let’s do it!
JD”
We never did do that podcast.
But there was another e-mail:
RE: The Model Is Broken.
Bob, you’re killing it, mate. Superbly reasoned piece and within it lies the awful truth…or is it that awful? Yes, in many ways, but change is always a new pair of boots that need breaking in.
The message at the heart of even this sea change is the same; write a great song and sing it well. It might not make you rich but then again, it just might and you can probably sleep a little better knowing you don’t suck. Then get up and try to do it again.
Keep firing
JD Souther”
8
Sure I knew him, but I would have written all of the above even if I hadn’t. Man, he wrote all those songs, he made that music, and he was cool and never sold out, never lost his identity.
Isn’t that what it’s all about?