Gene Clark as ’60s Country-Rock visionary Out On The Side


rehearsal and arrangements and things like that, it could have been so much better.” Rick Danko and Richard Manuel from The Band, Blondie Chaplin from The Beach Boys, Michael Clarke from the original Byrds, Rick Roberts from The Flying Burrito Brothers and Firefall, all made their way across the gang plank. “As much as I dearly loved those guys that were in that band,” says York, “I don’t think the music was the main focus.” Being out on the road with The Byrds tribute


to get him back on a path toward sobriety and rejuvenate his flagging music career. With John York and singer-songwriter Pat Robinson, he formed CRY (an acronym of their last names), which was more of a songwriting collective than an active, gigging band. “Pat Robinson basically offered Gene a space at his home to write in and make demos in,” says John York. “But the conditions were that there would be no drinking, no drugs, no hangers-on, nothing. It turned out to be a very creative environment for Gene.”


After his sudden departure from The Byrds in early ‘66, Gene Clark spent the next 12 months regrouping – literally, by forming Gene Clark And The Group, and figuratively, by recovering from what is now generally regarded as a nervous breakdown. When he re- emerged in early ’67 with Gene Clark With The Gosdin Brothers, a fledgling country-rock flavour was evident in a few tracks, including ‘Tried So Hard’, ‘Keep On Pushin’ and ‘Think I’m Gonna Feel Better’. The presence of other early pioneers of the genre; Vern and Rex Gosdin, Clarence White, Chris Hillman (who had previously played with Vern and Rex in The Hillmen), and fellow Missourian/future partner Doug Dillard (see Dillards feature in this issue), ensured some measure of country cred and suffused these embryonic stabs at genre blending.


Recorded in late ’67 at Gold Star Studios, the legendary Gene Clark Sings For You demos have been for decades the subject of much conjecture among Clark aficionados. Long rumoured to be the great “lost” Gene Clark album, the songs were finally demythologised by John Einarson in his excellent biography of Clark, where he revealed them as haphazardly performed demos of eight fully realized compositions. (For further in-depth discussion of the Sings For You demos, including the first-ever transcription of the lyrics, visit my blog at www.clarkophile.blogspot.com)


At least half of this impressive collection of inexplicably abandoned songs, including the lengthy and mysterious centrepiece of the set, ‘7:30 Mode’, feature Clark’s attempt to flesh out his poetically abstruse musings over a backbone of traditional country music. Unfortunately, the acetate suggests that the musicians who were chosen to record these demos either had no instinctive grasp of Gene’s vision, or Clark himself failed to effectively communicate what he wanted from them.


When he reconnected with Doug Dillard in ’68 to form The Dillard & Clark Expedition, Gene finally found a sympathetic partner with whom he could finally manifest his vision of marrying dizzyingly conceptual lyrics with authentic country/bluegrass music. On their two albums, The Fantastic Expedition Of Dillard And Clark, and Through The Morning, Through The Night, Gene’s songs are the undisputed highlights and include some of his best-ever compositions such as ‘Why Not Your Baby’, ‘Polly’, and ‘Something’s Wrong’.


Over the course of his erratic solo career, Clark’s muse led him to embrace, flirt and experiment with various forms of music, but the overarching influence of country music would never leave him.


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Indeed, where Firebyrd had featured undistinguished, generic fodder like ‘Rodeo Rider’ – catchy but lacking any serious depth – Clark was once again delving into the dark, thoughtful poetry that characterised his earlier triumphs and in Pat Robinson, Gene had found a positive counterpoint to his mid- tempo melancholia.


Of the many impressive compositions that emerged from this period, the finest of them all was the magnificent ‘My Marie,’ a song with the same cinematic breadth of vision as Dylan’s ‘If You See Her, Say Hello’ from Blood On The Tracks. “We were talking about Marie, one of Gene’s old girlfriends, and we were spending a lot of time talking about The Chelsea Hotel. We were on a New York kick, kind of. She was living at The Chelsea Hotel. She was an artist.” Over the course of their association, Pat came to the conclusion that, “Gene was just brilliant with words,” making specific reference to the last verse of the song, which, in Gene’s hand, began, “The mirror of the morning finds a poet half-awakened.” Pat laughs, still somewhat awe-struck, “I would’ve just said, ‘The poet got up and looked in the mirror’.”


A shimmering solo version of ‘My Marie’ was released in 2007 on the In Concert album, but Robinson maintains there is an even better version in existence featuring Steely Dan/Doobie Brothers alumnus Jeff ‘Skunk’ Baxter on keyboards, himself on bass and guitar, with Gene on guitar, vocals and harmonica. “We did it all in two takes. In the end he does this harmonica solo and it goes into a ‘Mari-i-a’ thing. Gene was very into the Bible. He knew details about it that a normal guy wouldn’t know. He was known for that, just to add some religious/spiritual significance.”


At the Palamino in ’82 (top) and McCabe’s, Santa Monica with The Long Ryders (Sid Griffin right of Gene) in ’84.


band meant no serious recording of his own could be reasonably undertaken, especially with the well-earned cold shoulder he was receiving from record companies as a result of his past exploits. Perhaps realising his art was getting lost in the vacuum of these nostalgia-based tours, Clark embarked on two projects during the ’80s specifically designed


Carla Olson contends that Pat


Robinson’s strong work ethic had the effect of reinvigorating Gene’s dormant muse. “He and Pat were up for like three, four days. They would get in his house, close all the doors, order out for food and write and record the stuff.” Contrasting this with Gene’s habits prior to their collaboration, Carla recalls, “Gene wasn’t writing; only talking about writing. Pat contributed a lot to Gene’s writing and got him off his butt to get stuff finished.”


Photo by Gary Nichamin


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