Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, May 12, 1995 TAG: 9505130004
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: WILLIAM PORTER THE PHOENIX GAZETTE
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
To be sure, the song didn't have the lyrical dazzle of Bob Dylan's ``Like a Rolling Stone'' or the sonic inventiveness of Jimi Hendrix's ``Purple Haze.'' But as a sweet-souled snapshot of a generation's better sentiments, it was perfect.
Jesse Colin Young was the songwriter. He's 50, with more lines on his face than he had in 1969, but his heart still seems to embrace the idea that, hey, maybe we can all get together.
Which he admits is a notion not reinforced by recent events. Yet he perseveres.
``The '60s changed me and that song changed me,'' says Young. ``It's a touchstone of a universal human dream of people getting along. There's an ancient human dream captured in that song.''
Young lives north of San Francisco in a house he built in the early 1970s. He's on the last ridge line before Marin County drops into the Pacific Ocean, and Point Reyes National Seashore is just out his back door.
He lives with his wife and their two children, a 31/2-year-old boy and a 9-month-old girl. He also has two grown children from his first marriage.
Young hasn't been much in the public eye since the early 1970s, when he released some well-received solo albums after his band, the Youngbloods, broke up. But he's still recording - 22 albums at last count, including the recently released ``Crazy Boy.''
The album is a mix of acoustic folk music and hard-edged rock.
Veteran fans will note that his new album includes a new version of ``Darkness, Darkness,'' a song that developed a cult upon its 1971 release. This time around, Young steers the tune from its acoustic origins, finding a core that crackles with electricity.
``I think I was always curious about how it would sound if I'd recorded it with Jimi Hendrix's band,'' Young says.
He has plenty of opportunity to fiddle with his sound. One of the first musicians to build a personal studio, Young is an inveterate sonic noodler. He records on his own label, Ridgetop Records.
And he's also bent on improving as a guitar player. ``I'm interested in exploring that side of me,'' he says. ``It's never been my strongest side, but I'm interested in doing a guitar album.
``I`d love to play like Stevie Ray Vaughan,'' he adds with a laugh.
Unlike many musicians, who tend to be an itinerant lot, Young is grounded in a longtime home. He knows the land he lives on. It's a fact that informs his music.
``I think people need to be in a place,'' Young says. ``That's the way we're made, like animals, to feel grounded to the earth.''
When he's not making music, Young hangs out with his youngsters.
``I think it's more valuable to spend time with them,'' he says. ``To crawl around on the floor with them, throw the ball, go on hikes, and teach my son how to shoot a bow and arrow.''
Young pauses. ``He's fascinated by weapons,'' he says, sheepish at the irony.
While audiences enjoy his recent songs, Young knows many fans turn out to hear one song. He doesn't begrudge them.
``It [`Get Together'] has never really held me back,'' he says. ``It's an anthem, and it comes at the end of the show. It really brings people together, takes them back to a time. And I understand that. I can hear a dumb love song from the '50s, and my hair will stand up on end because I identify with it so much.
``Every time I sing `Get Together' it's real. I still have that dream and I'll carry it with me. I hope my children will, too.''
by CNB