Few bands beyond The Beatles did as much to popularize psychedelic pop music in England as Traffic. Dave Mason played guitar and wrote a number of songs with Traffic, including the perennial favorite “Feelin’ Alright.” Yet after two landmark albums, Mason decided to leave the band to pursue music that was less overtly psychedelic. Following a brief stop with Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett’s band (the Eric Clapton parallels are sometimes eerie), Mason released his first solo album, Alone Together. Although well received by fans and critics, Mason confounded many with his next move, a collaboration with Mama Cass Elliott. That album was followed a series of unauthorized releases (Headkeeper, Dave Mason Is Alive!, etc.) as Mason sought to extricate himself from his contract with Blue Thumb.
Migrating to the greener pastures of Columbia Records, Mason began releasing middle-of-the-road rock records that sold respectably but yielded no big hits. That changed with the release of Let It Flow in 1977 and the smash hit, “We Just Disagree.” Just as quickly, Mason fell back to his former fortunes, and by 1981 had temporarily retired from the business. In 1987, Mason tried to revive his career with little success, and seemed destined for an early retirement when he was invited to join Fleetwood Mac in the 90s at the request of his friend, Mick Fleetwood. Since then, Mason has toured on his own and with former Traffic-mate Jim Capaldi (chronicled on The 40,000 Headmen Tour). In 2008, he released his first album of new material in two decades, 26 Letters 12 Notes.
“The songs on Alone Together would have been on the next Traffic album, if I’d still been there. So I was approaching it the way I would have probably done if I’d still been with the band. It was not really any different; all I was doing was putting some acoustic guitar and electric guitar together.” – Dave Mason, in 
The Rolling Stone Record Guide of 1980 called this a “grand gesture,” and one was needed after the letdown of The Beatles’ breakup. None of the Fab Four had sketched out a roadmap for the future, McCartney opting to recycle ditties from the past, and All Things Must Pass became something of a beacon. Great works from John, Paul, even 
Kronomyth 1.4: IF DAVE DIDN’T, ERIC WOOD. It appears Blue Thumb waited a little while before pulling the trigger on a third single from 
Kronomyth 1.0: ALL THINGS MUST NASH. If “Our House” was the best Beatles song the band never wrote, then Songs For Beginners is the best Beatles solo album that none of the Fab Four ever released. That’s not to suggest that Graham Nash was consciously copying The Beatles or Bob Dylan, at least not anymore than anyone else, but his first album combines British pop, ballads and a social conscience in the best possible ways. Though the last member of Crosby, Stills and Nash to release a solo album, Nash made it the best of his career. Honestly, the first three solo albums from Crosby, Stills and Nash were better salve to the wounded hearts of their fans than what John, Paul, George and Ringo had to offer. When I tell you that Songs For Beginners is my favorite solo album from Crosby, Stills or Nash (Neil Young’s Harvest is better in my opinion), it’s with the caveat that I’m a anglophile at heart. Beatles fans should immediately warm up to “Military Madness” and “Be Yourself;” Bobby Keys’ sax solo on “There’s Only One” will also feel like a bit of home. CSN fans will instantly recall “Chicago,” introduced a month earlier on the live 
CronNaMyth 1.0: 2 OUT OF 3 AIN’T HALF BAD. After the initial flurry of CS&N solo albums, none of which mercifully featured tin pan alley standards or 30 minutes of therapeutic wailing, Graham Nash and David Crosby decided to re-form as a duo with the support of a band of session players dubbed The Mighty Jitters: Craig Doerge (keyboards), Danny “Kootch” Kortchmar (guitar), Russell Kunkel (drums) and Leland Sklar (bass). The results on Graham Nash/David Crosby were good enough to sustain the pair’s commercial momentum, going gold soon after its release and generating two singles including the Top 40 “Immigration Man,” which could be seen as a cross between The Beatles’ “The Ballad of John & Yoko” (thematically) and “Taxman” (musically and especially in Greg Reeves’ insistent bass track). Rather than re-create the soaring harmonies of CS&N, however, this reunion essentially amounts to half of a solo album each from Crosby and Nash shuffled together. Nash’s contributions favor the Bob Dylan/Beatles sound set forward on earlier songs like “Our House” (in fact, “Strangers Room,” originally written in 1969, sounds like that song filtered through Traffic), while Crosby’s songs suggest a male Joni Mitchell: jazzy and mysterious and troubled. Over their careers, many of these songs would be counted among their best: “Southbound Train,” “Page 43,” “The Wall Song,” “Immigration Man,” “Strangers Room.” The financial motivation for such a merger can’t be discounted, yet Graham Nash/David Crosby remains one of the most gratifying extracurricular outings from the CS&N axis, a snapshot of two artists still at their peak. Crosby and Nash were happy enough with the result to repeat the experiment in the mid 70s and even tour together, though neither Wind On The Water nor Whistling Down The Wire matched the success of their first.
Kronomyth 5.0: SHANGHAIED NOODLES. Honestly, in some ways, it’s like he never left Blue Thumb. Dave Mason’s first album for Columbia Records features many of the same musicians from his earlier sessions and even includes a new version of “Head Keeper,” the title track from his last studio album. And the album again failed to generate a hit single. (Some things will never change.) What makes the record interesting are a couple of high-profile cameos (
Kronomyth 5.5: THUMB NERVE. This is the first of many, many shameless, needless Dave Mason compilations. After a short and tenuous relationship, Mason bolted Blue Thumb for the greener pastures of Columbia. Blue Thumb had already released two albums without Mason’s permission (Headkeeper, Alive), so what was left but to package up the best bits from his two-and-a-half studio albums with the label as a premature greatest hits record? Sandwiched in between his first and second studio albums with Columbia, The Best of Dave Mason collected four tracks from his first album (
Kronomyth 6.0. I’M A GROVER NOT A FIGHTER. On this album, the parallels between Dave Mason and a certain blues icon can no longer be ignored. I’m talking, of course, about Grover. Oh, sorry, that would be a blue icon. I meant to say 
Kronomyth 7.0: TROPICALIFORNIA ROCK. Dave Mason continued to maintain a high profile despite his lack of a hit single. He graced the cover of Guitar Player Magazine (October 1975), rested comfortably in the US Top 40 with his new album (Split Coconut) and went out on tour with the latest version of the Dave Mason Band. The tropical album cover and two island-themed opening tracks are a tease, however; Split Coconut is simply a continuation of the music that Mason had been making all along. It’s a professional affair from beginning to end, with some updated keyboard sounds (courtesy of Mark Jordan and Jay Winding, in what appears to be a mid-session keyboard chair change) and an extra infusion of funk (“Split Coconut,” “Save Your Love”). If Mason seems to have settled into a groove as far as making solo records, longtime listeners will settle into the same groove soon enough. “Save Your Love,” “Two Guitar Lovers” (written by singer Maureen Gray, who had performed with 
Kronomyth 9.0: THE SOUND OF ONE-HAND CLAPTON. Dave Mason has always struck me as a poor man’s 
Kronomyth 10.0: NO KRUEGER ADDS FOR DAVID. You would think it impossible to play bottleneck slide in a leisure suit. And you would be wrong. Mariposa De Oro is a strange hybrid: the army of backing vocalists and orchestral arrangements are clearly influenced by disco, but the songs themselves are California rock with tasteful slide guitar and solid playing from a crack session band that now included Jeff Porcaro, Gerald Johnson, Mark Stein and songwriter Jerry Williams. Jim Krueger, Dave Mason’s primary collaborator up to this point, was off making his own solo album, so Williams was brought in to fill the gaps, and fill them he does with some terrific material including “Share Your Love,” “All Gotta Go Sometime” and “No Doubt About It.” The album’s big hit was an update of the old Shirelles song, “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow,” which is a bit like shooting a fish in a barrel but at least not the beating a fish to death with a club that Jim Capaldi’s “Love Hurts” was. 
Kronomyth 9.0: DISCO JOCKEY. This is as close as Stephen Stills has come to making a disco album, which is probably enough to seal its fate as an also-ran in his catalog. Yet behind the string arrangements, punchy rhythms and backing vocals (which feature the up-and-coming Andy Gibb) is the usual strong songwriting from Stephen. In fact, I might give Thoroughfare Gap the nod over his other Columbia records, which is as good as a wink to a blind horse. “Can’t Get No Booty” is the funniest song Stills has ever recorded (okay, so it’s a short list) and should have been a hit, especially given the success Joe Walsh was having with “Life’s Been Good.” On most of the record, Stills strikes a good balance between high-gloss production and guitar-driven rock (e.g., “What’s The Game,” “Lowdown”). He mixes it up with the usual polyglot pop (“Woman Lleva,” “Beaucoup Yumbo”), adds a nice acoustic number (“Thoroughfare Gap”) and even includes a couple (admittedly inferior) covers, “Midnight Rider” and “Not Fade Away.” Honestly, I didn’t expect much after the last few Stills albums, and the picture of him in a jockey’s uniform (a look that no one, not even Prince, could pull off) didn’t bode well. I was pleasantly surprised, then, to find that the music on Thoroughfare Gap wasn’t a case of Stills trying to work outside of his idiom, but rather to adapt his idiom to contemporary influences. Unfortunately, Columbia didn’t pick up his contract and Stills went silent during his pending divorce, resurfacing several years latter under the protective glyph of CSN.
Kronomyth 16.3: HAVEN’T WE ULTIMATE BEFORE? Hip-O Records has released some excellent compilations over the years and this isn’t one of them. The double-disc Gold treatment showered on Pete Townshend—now that’s how it should be done. Instead, Ultimate Collection lingers too long at