Stills

Famed for his work in Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills & Nash, two of pop music's most successful and enduring groups, Stephen Stills was born in Dallas, Texas, on January 3, 1945. He became fascinated by music at a young age, and by the age of 15 was playing professionally. He eventually dropped out of college to move to New York City to try his hand as a folk performer before signing on as a guitar player with the Au Go-Go Singers, where he befriended a fellow bandmate named Richie Furay.

After a tour of Canada (during which they headlined a bill with the Squires, which featured guitarist Neil Young), Stills left the Au Go-Gos in 1965 for Los Angeles, where he became enmeshed in the city's burgeoning folk-rock community. After a series of session gigs and auditions (including one for the TV series The Monkees), in the spring of 1966 Stills enlisted Young, Furay, bassist Bruce Palmer, and drummer Dewey Martin to form the Herd, later dubbed the Buffalo Springfield. A year later, the group issued their eponymous debut; its Stills-penned single "For What It's Worth," made them stars. Internal problems, ego clashes, and drugs were already tearing the band apart, however, and by the release of 1968's Last Time Around, the Springfield had already dissolved.

Stills quickly resurfaced with 1968's Super Session, recorded with fellow guitarists Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper. A jam session with ex-Byrd David Crosby and former Hollies member Graham Nash led to the formation of the vocal harmony supergroup Crosby, Stills & Nash; released in 1969, their self-titled debut was hugely successful, propelled by the single "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes," written by Stills for folksinger Judy Collins. Later that year, Neil Young joined the loose-knit group, and in 1970, as Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, they issued Déjà Vu, another major hit.

From its inception, CSNY was designed to allow the individual performers great latitude for their solo work, and following the recording of the group's live LP Four Way Street, in late 1970 Stills released his self-titled solo debut. Sparked by the success of the hit single "Love the One You're With," the album, which featured cameos from Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton, was another smash, as was his 1971 follow-up Stephen Stills 2. In 1972, Stills began performing with a new backing unit, Manassas, which featured ex-Byrd and Flying Burrito Brother Chris Hillman; both their eponymous debut and 1973's Down the Road continued Stills' long string of chart successes.

In 1975, he celebrated his signing to Columbia with Stills, followed a year later by Illegal Stills. In the summer of 1976, he planned to tour with Neil Young; however, Young was hampered with throat problems, so Stills took to the road alone, although he and Young did team for the LP Long May You Run. In 1977, Stills reunited with Crosby and Nash for CSN, which sold over four million copies; the following summer, the trio mounted an acoustic tour, and Stills issued the solo record Thoroughfare Gap. CSN continued their reunion throughout the early years of the next decade, teaming in 1980 for Replay and in 1982 for Daylight Again, which featured the hits "Southern Cross" and "Wasted on the Way."

—Jason Ankeny

Talk about understatement -- there's Stephen Stills on the cover, acoustic guitar in hand, promising a personal singer/songwriter-type statement. And there is some of that -- even a lot of that personal music-making -- on Stephen Stills, but it's all couched in astonishingly bold musical terms. Stephen Stills is top-heavy with 1970 sensibilities, to be sure, from the dedication to the memory of Jimi Hendrix to the now piggish-seeming message of "Love the One You're With." Yet, listening to this album three decades on, it's still a jaw-dropping experience, the musical equal to Crosby, Stills & Nash or Déjà Vu, and only a shade less important than either of them. The mix of folk, blues (acoustic and electric), hard rock, and gospel is seamless, and the musicianship and the singing are all so there, in your face, that it just burns your brain (in the nicest, most benevolent possible way) even decades later. Recorded amid the breakup of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Stills' first solo album was his effort to put together his own sound and, not surprisingly, it's similar to a lot of stuff on the group's two albums. But it's also infinitely more personal, as well as harder and bluesier in many key spots; yet, it's every bit as soft and as lyrical as the group in other spots, and all laced with a degree of yearning and urgency that far outstrips virtually anything he did with the group. "Love the One You're With," which started life as a phrase that Stills borrowed from Billy Preston at a party, is the song from this album that everybody knows, but it's actually one of the lesser cuts here -- not much more than a riff and an upbeat lyric and mood, albeit all of it infectious. "Do for the Others," by contrast, is one of the prettiest and most moving pieces of music that Stills has ever been associated with, and "Church (Part of Someone)" showed him moving toward gospel and R&B (and good at it, too); and then there's "Old Times Good Times," musically as good a rock song as Stills has ever recorded (even if it borrows a bit from "Pre-Road Downs"), and featuring Jimi Hendrix on lead guitar. "Go Back Home" (which has Eric Clapton on guitar) is fine a piece of bluesy hard rock, while "Sit Yourself Down" features superb singing by Stills and a six-person backing chorus (that includes Cass Elliot, Graham Nash, and David Crosby) around a great tune. "To a Flame" is downright ethereal, while the live "Black Queen" is a superb piece of acoustic blues. All of this is presented by Stills in the best singing voice of his career up to that point, bolder, more outgoing, and more powerful (a result of his contact with Doris Troy) than anything in his previous output. He also plays lots of instruments (à la Crosby, Stills & Nash, which is another reason it sounds so similar to the group in certain ways), though a bit more organ than guitar, thanks to the presence of Hendrix and Clapton on two cuts. If the album has a flaw, it's the finale, "We Are Not Helpless," which slightly overstays its welcome. But hey, this was still the late '60s, and excess was the rule, not the exception, and it's such modest excess.

—Bruce Eder