
For decades I avoided Poco records because I thought they were the epitome of bland, soft country rock. I’m not even sure how I came to that conclusion, as two members—Richie Furay and Jim Messina—played with Buffalo Springfield, whom I dig. Sometimes you just formulate rigid dogmas based on no or little evidence. It’s a bad habit. Then I remembered being plagued by Poco’s gooey 1978 radio hit “Crazy Love,” and likely had scorned them based one that one song. We didn’t have YouTube or streaming services in the 20th century, so one could, if so inclined, hold ignorant grudges against musicians for years on end.
But in the late 2010s, after hearing someone I respect praise their early albums, I decided to take a chance on Poco’s self-titled LP because, what the fuck, it was a buck. And, man, am I glad I did. Sure, it gets a bit maudlin here and there—especially on the cover of Dallas Frazier/George Jones’ “Honky Tonk Downstairs.” But there’s also some residual Springfield melodiousness here, some Sweetheart Of The Rodeo and Michael Nesmith’s First National Band mojo, and some Neil Young-like guitar shredding by Messina and Furay.
The Furay composition “Hurry Up (Now Tell Me)” opens Poco with the sort of deceptively funky country rock that you sometimes hear on Steven Stills’ solo records. Replete with imaginatively arranged vocal harmonies, this song grooves harder than you’d expect from a bunch of honkies with a pedal steel (wielded by Rusty Young). And Messina’s surprisingly tough guitar solo would make Neil’s sideburns roll up and down. Jim comes in hot with “You Better Think Twice,” an uptempo country-rock breezer with punchy rhythms that should’ve been a hit. Sad to say, Poco garnered zero chart action. “Keep On Believin'”—which Furay and bassist Timothy Schmit wrote—is a rousing rocker overflowing with feel-good energy, bespangled with Young’s radiant dobro solo.
I was ready to write off the sentimental ballad “Anyway Bye Bye,” but it unexpectedly goes bombastic, so respect is due for subverting tropes. The baroque country rocker “Don’t Let It Pass By” flirts with prog complexity, proving again that Poco couldn’t be too easily pigeonholed.
That realization bursts into vivid truth on “Nobody’s Fool/El Tonto De Nadie, Regresa.” Written by the entire band, it starts in funky, blues-rock/slow-burner mode, as Poco ease out of their comfort zone. What sounds like a flamboyant organ solo but is actually Young’s pedal steel run through a Leslie speaker enlivens things. About four minutes in, though, Grantham gets methodically funky on the drums and someone (fab guest percussionist Milt Holland, probably) goes off on cowbell and shaker, as Poco begin to sound like Medeski Martin & Wood, 21 years before the fact. A few minutes later, a serious percussion jam commences that would impress early-’70s Santana. The piece eventually heads into a heady conflagration that sounds like Traffic jamming with Traffic Sound, climaxing with a wild, squealing guitar solo. With that, we’re miles beyond any quaint, cozy notions of trad country-rock conformity, thankfully. Poco earn every second of this 18:25 magnum opus.
For “Nobody’s Fool/El Tonto De Nadie, Regresa” alone, the bargain-bin staple Poco is worth your undivided attention. I’m sorry I waited so long to get familiar with this transportive epic. -Buckley Mayfield
Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.