“The Great Lost Byrds Album?”
Well, maybe not quite. “The Great Lost Byrds Singles,” or “The Byrds’ Stereo Debut” might be closer to the truth, in that you’ll find some fabulous, can’t-believe-they-weren’t-released recordings that were passed over for one reason or another, or unissued stereo mixed of several singles.
With this collection attempts to achieve its simple: to exhume, clean up and present for th first time previously unreleased and unheard songs from the group’s first three years, and true stereo versions of songs from the period that were previously available only in monaural or electronically re-channeled stereo.
We have spent the better part of five years trying to put this album together with the help of many people – including the Byrds themselves – who were there from the beginning. We have yet to find tapes for a number of songs that we believe were recorded, but our disappointment was more than offset by our introduction to Jim Dickson. Jim had been with the Byrds from the start as their first manager, their music publisher, and the producer of their earliest recordings Dickson had always had a vision of what the Byrds should and could be, and it was his direction as much as anyone’s that led to their impressive debut in 1965. He seemed the logical choice to re-mix the original tapes for this anthology.
We assume that anyone purchasing this album must have at least a rudimentary knowledge of the history of the Byrds, and with that assumption intact we can look at just what we were able to uncover.
MR. TAMBOURINE MAN (Stereo).
A logical choice to begin any Byrds retrospective, this first (“Byrds”) single opens with a guitar figure that has become a classic, and follows with the distinctive harmonics that helped define the Byrds sound throughout the Sixties. Recorded with Roger McGuinn and L.A. studio musicians prior to the rest of the first LP sessions, it has never been released (or mixed) in true stereo until now. The separation here is not as wide as it might been mixed 20 years ago, but the sound is remarkably clear and spacious nonetheless.
I KNEW I’D WANT YOU (Stereo).
Taken from the same initial session as “Mr. Tambourine Man,” and originally released as its flip-side. Jim Dickson greatly improved the stereo sound by re-mixing the original 8-track tapes, and we offer this selection as a strong argument for going back to the original session tapes of the 1960’s (whenever possible) when re-mastering for CD or LP re-issues.
SHE HAS A WAY (Stereo).
Like a number of songs from the Preflyte album of 1964 Byrds demos, this Gene Clark composition was re-cut for Columbia for inclusion on the Mr. Tambourine Man album. It was left off to make room for outside material (see Dylan, DeShannon, Seeger).
IT’S ALL OVER NOW, BABY BLUE (Mono).
After Cher’s recording of Dylan’s “All I Really Want To Do” out-charted the version released by the Byrds, the group needed a strong new single to maintain the momentum from their first hit. Shortly before the 78 takes eventually required to complete “Turn! Turn! Turn!”, producer Terry Melcher left L.A. for a day in Palm Springs. While he was gone, the Byrds and Jim Dickson produced this version of the Dylan classic and rushed an acetate to radio station KRLA, announcing it as their next single. After one airing, the recording was withdrawn in favor of the newly-recorded “Turn!...,” which became the groups second – and last – Number One hit. We have not been able to find the original multi-track, and this version comes from a rough mono mix, modified to make it more compatible with the rest of the album. A later recording of “…Baby Blue…” cut after the original group had broken up was released in 1969.
NEVER BEFORE (Stereo).
The last song Gene Clark recorded during his first stint with the Byrds, this recording was found at the end of the “Eight Miles High” session tape. Gene supplied the title for this unnamed song in early ’87 upon hearing it for the first time in over twenty years.
EIGHT MILES HIGH (Stereo).
For many the high point of the Byrds’ recording career. “Eight Miles High” – the hit version – has been universally acclaimed and (happily) continuously available since its release in 1966. That legendary recording, however, was not the one the group originally intended for release. As David Crosby, Roger McGuinn and a number of others would reveal in the ensuing years, an alternate take was originally chosen for issue. Crosby always insisted it was better than the known version, and McGuinn, while not quite an enthusiastic, remembered it as being a bit more spontaneous and free-form than the single. What we found – and present here for the first time – is an astonishing recording that perhaps more than any other mirrors the constant, just-on-the-edge tension that permeated the Byrds career. Michael Clarke turns in his finest performance with the group, and McGuinn’s guitar solos brood with an uneasy anger that was absent on the version eventually released. The vocals are not quite as smooth as they were on the single, but that instrumental excitement more than compensates.
WHY (Stereo) (2 Version).
Three different versions of this Crosby/McGuinn collaboration were recorded during the Fifth Dimension sessions: a fast, hard-edged take that became the flip-side of the “Eight Miles High” single (re-mixed in stereo for the first time and included as track #12 on this CD), a tamer version that appeared a year later on the group’s fourth album, Young Than Yesterday, and the initial recording (track #7), cut at the same session as the alternate take of “Eight Miles High” included herein.
At the time the song was first released, many people thought that the Byrds had used a sitar on the recording – a logical assumption considering that the group appeared at a Columbia press conference announcing the release of the single with foreign instrument in hand! Despite talk of a new sound (“Raga-rock”), however, the fact remains that the Byrds never recorded with a sitar. McGuinn simulated the sound with his 12-string Rickenbacker played through an amplifier taken from an old, discarded Phillips phonograph with a 2-inch “walkie-talkie” speaker in a cigar-type “black box” that gave the 12-string the exceptional sustain heard on this recording.
TRIAD (Stereo).
For years this song was reputed to have been the cause of David Crosby’s departure from the Byrds, concerning itself as it does with a potential ménage-a-trois. But while McGuinn and company may not have cared for the song, all hands concerned agreed that the song’s subject matter had nothing to do with the eventual break-up of the group. “Triad” was in direct competition with “Goin’ Back” for a place on The Notorious Byrd Brothers, and the disagreements regarding that song may well have been one of the factors in the break-up: Crosby refused to participate in its recording. “Triad” eventually appeared on a Jefferson Airplane album in 1968, but it’s a shame this version was withheld, as it is certainly one of David’s finest vocal performances.
IT HAPPENS EACH DAY (Stereo).
From the same session that produced what is generally considered David Crosby’s masterpiece with the Byrds (“Everybody’s Been Burned”), this moody recording was mixed for the first time in 1987 with David’s help.
LADY FRIEND (Stereo).
One of the primary reasons for compiling this album was simply to finally issue this David Crosby gem in clear, true stereo. In early 1967, Columbia released Younger Than Yesterday, the Byrds fourth and finest album. The record had a lot going for it…two hit singles, the group’s first forays into both country and electronic music, the emergence of both Chris Hillman and David Crosby as individual songwriters, and finally, a beautifully clear-sound resulting from their first recording made specifically for stereo. Anticipations was high that summer for their next release.
That next release “Lady Friend,” lived up to its promise in terms of composition and performance, but barely dented the Top 50. Not only did the song really rock, but it also featured another sound new to the Byrds – brass used as a harmony element. In later years, David would speak with pride of this innovation, and the stereo mix presented here, produced with David’s help, showcases the effect to its best advantage.
Ordinarily, the single would have appeared on the succeeding album release, but “Lady Friend” – much to Crosby’s dismay – was left off the group’s next new album, The Notorious Byrd Brothers. Halfway through the completion of the LP, Crosby left the group, and for the next ten years, the song would only be available on the original 45.
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When the LP and cassette version of this compilation first appeared in December 1987, a number of critics complained that we were holding back other unreleased gems for commercial reason (i.e. a “Volume 2”), well, folks, it just isn’t so. With the possible exception of “I Know My Rider” we thought that what remained was to insufficient quality to merit inclusion with the 10 songs so beautifully mixed and mastered by Jim Dickson and Lawrence Wendelken.
After compiling a reference cassette of all the remaining unreleased material we had found, we sent it to Roger McGuinn for his thoughts. McGuinn had not been intensely involved in the LP version, and we thought his participation would balance the strong Crosby feel of the LP. To our surprise, McGuinn was interested in trying to salvage some of the songs on the cassette, and graciously traveled to New York to assist in the mixing. The result of his efforts, as well as those of CBS engineer Ken Robertson, are the bonus cut included here.
We hope that this will ebb the flow of unauthorized releases taken from 12th-generation cassette dubs. Sadly, except for another barely-different alternate take of “Eight Miles High,” we have now issued everything of any value we could find after four years of combing the CBS archives. Even the instrumental backing tracks we found for “Turn! Turn! Turn!” are incomplete, but from what Roger, David, Jim and the rest recall, you’ve got the best of the Great Lost Byrds Tapes.
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I Know My Rider (I Know You, Rider) (Stereo).
A song performed by many folk artists in the 1960s, and recorded by such diverse artists as the Grateful Dead, the Astronauts, and Mama Cass and the Big Three. “I Know You, Rider” (as it is usually called) was one of the songs David Crosby worked on with Jim Dickson before the Jet Set demos of 1964. The Byrds attempted to finish this song twice during their Columbia tenure, once for the Fifth Dimension LP and again for the Younger Than Yesterday album.
According to Roger McGuinn, this very Beatle-like recording was directly influenced by “Paperback Writer,” with McGuinn trying for a sitar sound with his guitar. For some reason – McGuinn suspects it was “just politics” – the song was never released, although at one point in 1966 it was rumored to have been their next single.
She Don’t Care About Time (Stereo).
The flip-side of “Turn! Turn! Turn!” and a bonafide “A-side” in its own right, this 1965 gem was kept off their second album for hat must have been the same reason the “She Has A Way” was excluded from their first album. The song, recorded with two of the Beatles in attendance, features Roger McGuinn’s 12-string variation of J.S. Bach’s Jesu, Joy Of Man’s Desiring.
While the mix presented here marks the first stereo appearance of the song we should qualify the term as “partial true stereo,” the individual vocal tracks could not be located, and were mixed with true instrumental multi-tracks using a fully-tracked monaural source. We could have spread the instruments a bit wider in the mix, but would have further compromised the vocals. Instead, we were able to embellish the instrumental portion of the song without destroying the homogeneity of the original mix.
Flight 714 (“Song No. 2”) (Stereo).
Recently discovered on the tape containing the “Get To You” session from The Notorious Byrd Brothers, this instrumental background track is an enjoyable piece in itself, harking back to earlier days when “folk-rock” was all the rage. Mr. McGuinn could not remember what he had in mind at the time, although he recognized the rhythm and lead pattern as something taken from a Shel Silverstein song!
Psychodrama City (Stereo). Recorded just after the release of Fifth Dimension with the first attempt at “I Know You, Rider,” this Crosby narrative never got beyond the rehearsal stage. The vocals on this recording were cut “live” against pre-recorded instrumental tracks, and we deleted a few minutes of guitar warm-up from the original 4-minute-plus tape to give the song continuity.
Don’t Make Waves (Stereo).
A somewhat atypical recording for the Byrds from the soundtrack of a mediocre 1967 Tony Curtis movie of the same name. “Don’t Make Waves” first appeared as the flip-side of “have You Seen Her Face” in the U.S. (and as the flip-side of “lady friend” in England). A few months later, an inferior alternate take was included in stereo on the MGM soundtrack LP.
We have used a new stereo mix of the Columbia single version for this anthology, with some final studio talk thrown in. David Crosby’s exclamation “Masterpiece!”, heard at the end of the recording, was sarcastic – he hated the song.
Moon Raga (Stereo).
One of the more famous “lost” Byrds’ songs, “Moog Raga” was scheduled for inclusion on The Notorious Byrd Brothers and advertised as such before the LP was released. Pulled at the last minute for unknown reasons, it was re-mixed in 1988 to McGuinn’s satisfaction and appears here for the first time.
The use of the Moog synthesizer on this track resulted from an interesting adventure in itself. McGuinn first encountered the Moog at the Monterey Pop Festival during the summer of 1967, and, duly impressed, purchased one of the early models directly from the inventor, R.A. Moog, for around $9,000. The only hitch was that the machine came without instructions…Mr. Moog opined that if one didn’t know how to use it already, one should not own it in the first place.
Fortunately, Roger was able to figure it out for himself and the first result of his experimentation can be heard here.
– Bob Hyde