No one knew the name of the horse they rode in on. That's because it was A Horse With No Name!
And what of those who rode in on that nameless equine? Do we forget the names of these brave men, too? In the desert you can remember your name because there ain't no one for to give you no pain, but we're not in the desert now ... and ... wow, man, acid flashback. What was I talking (typing) about?
Oh, yeah, the song.
It's been a long time since I thought about A Horse With No Name, let alone heard it, let alone looked forward to hearing it live from the original band that had a hit with it back in the spring of 1972. They play Tuesday at the Winspear Centre - 31 years to the day after A Horse With No Name hit No. 1 and knocked Neil Young's Heart of Gold off the top. Again: wow, man ...
Now quick: name that band. (Hint: It's also the name of a country about to bomb Iraq back to the Stone Age, or already has by press time.)
Chances are you came up with the correct answer; if you're reading this, you're bound to be a fan. No, it's not Neil Young. Nor is it Crosby, Stills and Nash. Close. It's America, the band. But much of America, the country (and Canada, the country), is likely to draw a blank.
This is yet another case of a hit song far more famous than the artist who recorded it. These rare tunes forge careers, buy mansions, affect millions of people and live on long after the songwriters are dust in the wind. Such a massive hit like A Horse With No Name is the albatross around the neck of the ancient '70s Mariner, the stone the rock 'n' roll Sisyphus must push up the mountain for all eternity, the tune these archetypical classic rockers must play as their encore night after night after night. Bet you didn't even know America had re-formed and was touring again.
Gotcha!
"The truth is, we've never broken up," says guitarist Gerry Beckley. "We do 150 shows each and every year." It's been the same guys for 25 years, too. Beckley and partner Dewey Bunnell have been together since they met in high school in the late '60s, sons of American air force officers stationed in London, England. The pair came to California in the early '70s and have been successfully mellow ever since.
Of course, a lot of artists don't mind when their song's fame surpasses theirs. As mentioned, these things make a lot of money. When confronted with the obvious during a phone interview, Beckley is quick to bring up the other hits America had. Like Sister Golden Hair and Ventura Highway.
"Virtually the entire show is Top 10 material," he declares.
Besides, the Horse song "didn't come as a left turn in the middle of a career.
"Chuck Berry had My Ding-a-ling, his only No. 1 record, but if you think about the huge legacy that's Chuck Berry, it's almost a shame to have that stand as a representation of his work. In our case, we're very proud of A Horse with No Name. It came right at the start. It was a No. 1 record around the world, and it's become one of those iconic things where people can tell you where they were when they first heard it. We're proud of all our songs, but that one even more so, if you think about how responsible it is to have put us where we are. We live well, Dewey and I. It's a lot of work. The travel, of course, is the hardest part. The show itself is always the reward."
A hit of this obvious magnitude, AM radio-friendliness and astounding dumbness rarely escapes the wrath of critics. A Horse With No Name was slammed as a ripoff of Heart of Gold, and was named in Dave Barry's Worst Songs and Other Hits. Beckley and his pal Jimmy Webb - who also made the list for foisting MacArthur Park on an unsuspecting public - joke about it all the time, Beckley says. Randy Newman said A Horse With No Name is about a "kid who thinks he's taken acid."
America was also singled out in The Worst Rock 'n' Roll Records of All Time as "one of those soft-rock bands of the '70s that frequently couldn't even work up enough energy to be mellow." The Eagles, too, were so described. (Eerily, Beckley talks about his friendship with Eagles member Timothy B. Schmit, and that the Eagles reunion "gives him a chance to soak up that excitement that really only they can do.")
After 31 years of this sort of thing, Beckley has a thick skin.
"You can find truths in bad reviews as well as in good reviews," he says. "I look for something where I go, 'you know what? He's got a point' ... I get a lot of this stuff. Believe me, I work hard at what I do, but you gotta be able to take your shots, because you're in the wrong business if you can't."
He adds that you couldn't do 150 shows each and every year without having 150 audiences turn up to see them.
As for the other obvious question on whether America will record a new studio album at some point, Beckley says he'd like to work again with Andrew Gold, who produced America's recent Christmas album, Holiday Harmony. Gold, by the way, is also mentioned in The Worst Rock 'n' Roll Records of All Time. Wow, man, these guys have got to be doing something right.