Buffalo Springfield
Buffalo Springfield Again

THE REVIEW

1967 was an unrepeatable year. Rock had reached maturity, producing a stunning series of masterpieces. The second album by Buffalo Springfield is certainly to be counted among that elite.

Basing itself on an axis formed by three singer-guitarists (Stephen Stills, Rich Furay, and Neil Young), the group quickly emerged in the thriving folk-rock scene of Los Angeles. The British Invasion had been assimilated by then, while the Byrds had just changed the game by electrifying Bob Dylan's songs, and that was certainly the starting point for the group's sonic escapades. Their eponymous debut in 1966 had made it clear that the musical material they had crafted was more complex compared to McGuinn's already immense band. The vocal harmonies, in particular, were breathtaking and created the trademark of the West Coast sound, where the guitar intertwining between Stills and Young in tracks like “Nowadays Clancy Can’t Even Sing,” “Go and Say Goodbye,” and the famous “For What It’s Worth” was more intense and varied, opening up to the emerging Californian psychedelia.

Even though it was born in an already tumultuous internal context – which would soon lead to the group's disbandment – “Buffalo Springfield Again” turned out to be an extraordinary receptacle of the best rock avant-gardes of the period, a sonic melting pot where the group found a clear and innovative stylistic hallmark like few others. One of the keys to understanding Buffalo Springfield was the friendship-rivalry in composition among the group members, a relationship that, like Lennon and McCartney, led them to surpass each other in the writing phase. The charismatic Stills was the undisputed leader and penned some absolute classics. “Rock & Roll Woman” first and foremost, an unsurpassable cornerstone of the Californian “flower power” sound. Or “Hung Upside Down,” futuristic folk rock supported by the electric slings of the guitarists and the incisive bass lines of Bruce Palmer. “Everydays,” an astonishing mix of distorted guitars and jazz nods. Finally, “Bluebird,” a visionary folk rock ballad with a delirious Spanish-style acoustic interlude and vocal harmonies reminiscent of Tim Buckley. Rich Furay was the group's calm soul. His contributions include “A Child’s Claim to Fame,” “Sad Memory,” and “Good Time Boy,” delicate sketches with a country flavor.

Neil Young, on the other hand, was “the Indian,” often overshadowed by Stills' overwhelming personality. In “Buffalo Springfield Again,” the Canadian, however, pulled out of the hat three numbers that gave the album that something that makes it a milestone. “Mr. Soul” first of all, a brilliant tribute to the Stones, made unique by an interpretation as neurotic and dry as few others. Assisted by producer Jack Nitzsche, later known as “Phil Spector on acid,” Young stamped two superb psychedelic compositions that rival the Beatles' “A Day in the Life” and Love's “Forever Changes.” “Expecting to Fly,” first of all. Melancholic, celestial, and rarefied, it develops a crystalline melody reinforced by the string arrangements. It is one of the most influential tracks of all time (Mercury Rev, Flaming Lips, and Grandaddy are proof). And then the epic “Broken Arrow,” a worthy seal to the album. A superb piano ballad, accompanied by a magnificent text about the American dream in which Neil begins to exorcise his demons. Bizarre Zappa-esque interludes and samples punctuate the track, leading up to the jazz ending. An unsurpassable pinnacle.

Referring to the Buffalo Springfield era, Young would later sing “back in the old folky days/the air was magic when we played.”

Indeed, more than songs, “Buffalo Springfield Again” seems composed of spells.