The biggest takeaway from this so-so 1977 solo album is former Byrd Roger McGuinn’s eclectic taste in covers—he takes on Tom Petty, Bob Dylan (no surprise there), George Jones, and who’d have thunk it, the great Peter Frampton. Cool, right? Unfortunately the covers are testimony to the drying up of McGuinn’s songwriting gift—not that should come as any shock, as the process had been going on for years. Another takeaway is how much McGuinn sounds like Tom Petty on his lackluster cover of “American Girl.” Can you believe it? He stole Petty’s voice!
And the music is so-so too. Only one of McGuinn’s originals—all of which feature lyrics by Jacque Levy, who penned most of the lyrics for Bob Dylan’s 1976 album Desire—will knock you back on your heels, and that’s “Russian Hill,” although “Dixie Highway” holds its own. You’d be excused for suspecting that the guy who wrote some of The Byrds’ best songs—including “Eight Miles High” and “Ballad of Easy Rider”—didn’t bother showing up for the sessions.
His cover of Frampton’s romancer “All Night Long” sticks too close to the original, so you may as well listen to Peter’s version. The McGuinn/Levy original “It’s Gone” is up-tempo and has that Byrds’ feel—McGuinn’s ringing guitar brings back better days, if nowhere close to his best days. “Dixie Highway” is another original, and sounds exactly the way you think it would: rollicking Southern-tinged country rock with some nice honky-tonk piano gratis Marty Grebb. “American Girl” has a decided limp; his arrangement has none of the speed rush and passion of the original, and Tom Scott’s MOR saxophone doesn’t help.
“We Can Do It All Over Again” (written by veteran producer/player Barry Goldberg and Mentor Ralph Williams, who wrote “Drift Away”) is pleasant if hardly inspired; McGuinn’s cover of George Jones’ 1955 rockabilly hit “Why Baby Why” has the requisite get up and go but lacks the hillbilly “let’s hear some fiddle,” flavor of the original. On the other side of the coin, the country rock original “I’m Not Lonely Anymore” stands up quite nicely, thanks in large part to Rick Vito’s dobro.
McGuinn sounds quite a bit like Dylan on 1975 Bobby D. studio outtake “Golden Loom,” which is good or bad depending on your appreciation of Dylan imitations. Personally I prefer Dylan’s version; McGuinn’s take substitutes harmonica and dobro for Scarlett Rivera’s violin, and the violin comes out on top. The excellent closer “Russian Hill” is an atmospheric slow mover that could be by Dylan—it has that Desire feel. McGuinn gives good guitar, the dobro adds texture, and Levy’s lyrics are pure San Francisco nostalgia; Lawrence Ferlinghetti gets name-dropped, and in one memorable stanza McGuinn sings, “The age of innocence and searchin’/In the dark for what we’d never seen/And we could taste the sweetness/Of our lives in bitter mescaline.”
The Roger McGuinn of Thunderbyrd had traveled a long way since “Turn, Turn, Turn”; unfortunately, the road was largely downhill. He’s the perfect example of Romanian philosopher E.M. Cioran’s aphorism, “To live is to lose ground.” McGuinn’s is hardly an unusual case, for sure—it’s the same for most rock geniuses, including Dylan. Still, the Roger McGuinn of Thunderbyrd is no Roger McGuinn who made The Byrds one of the best and most influential groups of their time. Thunderbyrd is far from a bad album. But neither is it particularly good one, and it’s bereft of true inspiration. You get no thunder, and very little Byrd, so pass on by, easy rider, pass on by.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
C-
