New Drug Era

It’s an accepted fact, unforgettable music transforms people’s lives. Have you ever heard someone say they cried all night because a song meant so much? Or “I want this to play at our wedding, it’s one of the greatest songs ever.” There are lots of great songs, maybe that’s why there’s so many greatest hits records. Imagine buying a Hollies 45 single for $1.99 at the Arcade Record store in 1967. I did. That purchase might’ve had a profound impact on Graham Nash’s life. Nash is currently touring at the age of 82.

Everyone has their own list of greatest hits. Reviewing mine causes brain degeneration, too many questions. Am I experiencing a generational lapse in judgment? Does aging fanboy need a vacation? Am I ready to slog along the cultural frontlines of rock music where there’s a downwards steep slant?

However, I’m not the only one with mixed emotions. Every time I hear Free’s “All Right Now” wants you to go “Ask your doctor about Breztri” or any other 1960s, 70s, or 80s music used in TV ads for that matter, I go berserk. Perhaps even worse; a tacky, trite cover version given new lyrics, such as Ozempic’s “worse than death” torture of Pilot’s “Magic.” Thinking about the overwhelming number of drug-related TV commercials using hit songs airing nightly targeting the elderly and overweight is unnerving. It’s a delicate question, because artists are entitled to royalties for the use of their music.

Let’s celebrate and get high first. To give you an idea of 1971, a Quaalude was hidden in the back of my grandmother’s refrigerator freezer. I went searching on a visionary quest where I’m swimming through a frozen vegetable forest avoiding lima beans to catch a buzz. Tingles and horny euphoria. Some may recall how difficult those white, embossed Rorer 714 sedative pills were to swallow without water. This was before bottled water went mainstream. The best way to wash down temporary nirvana; a glass of tap water.

“...And you know it makes me wonder.” A friend of mine doesn’t care for Graham Nash. Granted, your mood will determine whether or not you listen to a mushy tale about living with Joni Mitchell on “Our House.” But let’s put aside any musical conniption fits for a little perspective. At one point Nash was, and many would agree, a member the greatest guitar-centric, rock harmonists group of all time; the capital N in Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Yeah, the Nash man, now that’s what I’m talking about. (There was also a Canadian musician, named Nash the Slash who performed covering his face in the late-1970s, but that’s another story.)

Graham Nash first gained international attention with The Hollies, another English Merseybeat vibe group who had a successive string of 1960s Top 10 hits. In 1967, talent presented itself once again on their minor track “King Midas in Reverse.” It’s a perfect Hollies escapade that’s one their better songs. 

If you could only see me
I know exactly where I am
You wouldn’t want to be me
Oh, I can assure you of that

I'm not the guy to run with
‘Cause I’ll throw you off the line
I’ll break you and destroy you
Given time

He’s King Midas with a curse
He’s King Midas in reverse 

Nash clearly had the right idea—help write and sing a clever song built to last, heavy and bittersweet. The introduction has folksy,12-string guitar strumming and harmonies opening the door for a drum roll that turns into a cymbal crash. Then, a full-blown Wagner-like symphony arrives with horns. The bridge adds a bit of lyrical content as an orchestral reprise blasts the Sgt. Pepper grand finale. Despite all that, the song didn’t take off.

It was a major disappointment for the Hollies, only rising to number #18 on the UK record charts. So after a slew of hit records, something happened to Graham Nash. For his own reasons, Nash left the group and headed off to Laurel Canyon where he found cinnamon girlfriend Joni Mitchell in 1968. Why all the fuss over Graham Nash? I recently heard “King Midas in Reverse” for the first time in years. I like the song, it got me all worked up—clamoring over mangled prose, engrossed in tautology, having eye rolls jerking-off words—because pictures and questions just pathologically spring into my head all the time. When did I first hear it? Was it over an AM transistor radio? Was I with anyone at the time?

So just like that, another timeless gem materializes, and a donkey kicks my ass. Evoking a fond memory, I flashback to Polly, a high school A-student and fellow classmate. She liked excitement. If you were into nice, things were possible. We felt an attraction and had agreed on a 3:30 afternoon rendezvous earlier that week.

There was a strange feeling around noon, a commotion was happening outside the school, something about an accident. A kid bashed their head, or somebody bashed a kid’s head against a granite wall. It was a mess. Unaware, the male student misfits typically congregated for a smoke break on the corner of the parking lot. An emotionless figure with shadowed eyes stood in front of the stained granite wall. Glancing over at the young bucks, guilt was written all over Polly Blameworthy’s face. We missed the mishap but saw a lot of blood on the ground. That made me nervous. Around 3:27 p.m., I was going bonkers hiding in a stairwell waiting for the coast to clear. Then I snuck into the school auditorium and quickly disappeared behind the stage curtains.

“Where were you? What took so long? Spill the beans.” Tense and neurotic, I got all snotty and said, “Okay, alright, bet you can’t start without me!”

Guess being nice paid off, temporarily. During a pop quiz in class the following week, Polly flashed me her answers, which I thought was pretty awesome. Not so fast, we were caught and accused of cheating. In detention class, where abuse was often disguised as discipline, she told the teacher “You make me sick, I wish you would drop dead.” A troubled teen remark like that today wouldn’t be taken lightly.

In the case of Joni Mitchell and Graham Nash, speaking with one voice is often a challenge especially when two creative individuals come together. Their relationship served as a source of inspiration that appears on her album Blue. Mitchell’s farewell telegram sent to Nash read: “If you hold sand too tightly in your hand, it will run through your fingers.” Relationships are rarely straightforward. Trauma’s difficult to navigate. And thinking about Miss Blameworthy again, just confirmed the fact: don’t mess with Polly. By the way, I never found the missing Quaalude.