Poco: One Night in Nashville

What at a glance looks like a lost treasure, Poco's One Night in Nashville, is in fact a re-release of a title available on CD/DVD around the time of its recording in 2004. It has existed under different titles in the interim and this reissue (with its own seemingly varied cover graphics) actually exists on both compact disc and vinyl LP. But this reissue certainly doesn't qualify as merely mercenary: its roughly seventy-five minute duration certifies the longevity of a ground-breaking band that has been, with few interruptions, a going concern since its inception in 1968.

Accordingly, this setlist not only touches all the requisite bases of the band's familiar history, but allows for gracious nods to tenured band members of its later years. "Call It Love" is a tune written by latter-day drummer Rick Lonow and saxophonist Phil Kenzie, who gets his due by reclaiming the solo he played on "Heart of the Night" when it first came out (that significance elevated as the last number of this performance). Meanwhile, keyboardist/accordionist Tony Harrell might well have received a shout-out because his instruments are prominent in more than one arrangement, but otherwise, the generosity of spirit flows in every direction here.

And that's not just in terms of the bandmembers acknowledging each other between songs such as Paul Cotton's "Bad Weather." There's also the quiet and respectful acclamation from the audience at the outset of readily-recognizable tunes such as late charter member and multi-instrumentalist Rusty Young's "Crazy Love" (the long-sought after 1979 hit Poco never attained with its early lineups). Still, the affection for that personnel resides in the introduction of Richie Furay as 'the founding father," while "Keep On Tryin'"—notably a composition by the somewhat conspicuously absent Timothy B. Schmit—now an Eagle—is emblematic of the earnest and persevering attitude of all the different configurations of the band over the years.

Along those very same lines, One Night in Nashville is no hastily-conceived and executed occasion. Meticulous attention to detail, all of it rife with passion, extends from full-throated, impeccable harmonies in support of various lead singers to the late George Grantham's furious drumming during "A Good Feelin' to Know:" there's a joy here rivaling that observation from noted music journalist Bud Scoppa in his Rolling Stone Magazine review of 1973 from which comes that tune: 'they wind out with the torque of a country-tuned Derek and the Dominos.'

Recorded live at Belcourt Theatre, May 20, 2004, the sixteen selections comprising One Night In Nashville range from the title song of their debut album to Furay's "Let's Dance Tonight." In its original appearance on Crazy Eyes (Epic, 1973) the latter represented its author's ostensible adieu to the band, here it becomes one more instance of encouragement to celebration. As is the whole of this show, so in this 'new' form, it's a shame there's precious little production info present on the package apart from songwriter credits: the mix is both crisp and rich, befitting the blend of multi-part vocals plus acoustic and electric guitars.

Even with such additions, though, the evocative painting by Angel 'Tarantella' Ciesniarska on the front cover would no doubt divert attention from such content. And the stylized Poco logo adds a flourish to the image so that the visual art becomes a vivid reflection of the way this cover of J.J. Cale's 'Magnolia' radiates all the wistful vulnerability at the heart of this band's persona; the crisp electric guitar solo from lead singer Cotton only renders more bittersweet Young's pedal steel (one of the multiple instruments he plays during the course of the concert). The interplay is thus an active echo of Furay's hushed opening "Where Did The Time Go": like this event, it is an ode to nostalgia in its healthiest form.

One Night in Nashville's re-release is fully in keeping with the existence of a group that's endured shifting personnel virtually since its formation. Poco's germination lies in the latter days of Buffalo Springfield, as Furay and guitarist/songwriter/producer Jim Messina collaborated to assemble that halcyon group's final album, Last Time Around (Atco, 1968). To be fair to all involved, such a storied and speckled career as this group's may not lend itself to a definitive document in any format, but this one comes close, if only because it arrives sans extraneous embellishments, but including worthwhile touch-points from the post-Furay, pre-breakthrough early-to-mid '70s period.

"Indian Summer" and "Rose of Cimarron" reside comfortably next to ostensible signature songs like "You Better Think Twice" and "Kind Woman," serving to reaffirm Poco's pre-eminence as one of the earliest proponents of the country-rock hybrid that still flourishes today.

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