Graham Nash on the Best and Most Therapeutic Songs of His Career

Superlatives

A Vulture series in which artists judge the best and worst of their own careers.

The last time I attempted a “Superlatives” interview with a member of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, I was cursed out and disparaged for technological issues that were outside my control. It was unpleasant and I didn’t listen to “Guinnevere” for about a year as a result. Graham Nash, thankfully, is a testament to Woodstock-surviving octogenarians everywhere. (Even the dreary downpour of an afternoon couldn’t break him. “I love the rain,” he chirps. “I’m English!”) Nash, whose most recent album, Now, was released in 2023, is taking the summer to do what he does best: Go on tour to perform the timeless standards from CSNY, the Hollies, and his rainbow of solo work. For every “Marrakesh Express” and “Teach Your Children” the 83-year-old plucks onstage is a song paired from the new millennium, with Now, in particular, unexpectedly growing to define this period of Nash’s life.

“When I wrote it when I was 75, I really believed that the romantic, falling-in-love part of my life was over,” he says. “Then I met the woman who’s now my wife, and we’ve been together ever since.” He always enjoys thinking about the good ol’ Laurel Canyon days, though, when he was dating Joni Mitchell and making harmonious music with some very complicated gentlemen. “We understood that we found magic,” he says of CSNY. “And what magic it was.”

Song where you invented yourself

“You Don’t Have to Cry,” which was a Stephen Stills song on our very first record. Stephen and David Crosby were trying to do an Everly Brothers duo type of thing. Buffalo Springfield had broken up, so Stephen didn’t have a band, and David had been thrown out of the Byrds. So they were trying to get a duo together. I was at dinner with my girlfriend at the time, Joni Mitchell, in her living room, when they started to sing a song. I said, “Stephen, that’s an incredibly beautiful song. Well done. Sing it again.” They sang it again, and they got to the end of it. I said, “Wow, okay.” I’m a pretty decent harmony singer. I checked out their body language and picked up on that immediately.

I know when Stephen’s going to start or end a phrase. I know when David is going to do the bottom harmony. It’s the way they were breathing — when you inhale, you’re about to start a phrase. When you finish singing what you’re supposed to sing, you’re exhaling. So I said, “Do it one more time.” And the third time they sang it, I added my voice. In 45 seconds, we had to stop and laugh, because, obviously, Buffalo Springfield; the Byrds; and my band, the Hollies, were decent harmony bands. But nothing sounded like what the three of us created when we invented ourselves.

Most selfless song

I wrote “Cold Rain” many years ago. David would frequently tell people, “If you want to know anything about Graham Nash, listen to ‘Cold Rain.’” He thought it was incredibly personal and informative about who I am as a person. I wrote it on the steps of the Midland Hotel in Manchester. I was visiting my mom, who was a little sick and in the hospital. I stood on the steps in the rain and watched all the people go by, and most of them had a lost look in their eyes. It seemed like they hated their jobs, they hated their bosses, and they hated what they were doing. It began to make me question, Why me? Why, out of everybody in Manchester, was I the one who got to go to America thousands of miles away and start a brand-new career? I’ve always asked myself that question. I hope I never get the answer to it.

Song you put the most trust into

“Ohio.” I understood what had happened at Kent State. David and Neil Young were up north in California at a friend’s cabin. David showed Neil the issue of Life magazine with the dead student on the cover, which caused Neil to pick up his acoustic guitar, walk out into the woods, and come back less than an hour later with this song. David then called me because I was in Los Angeles with Stephen. He said, “Do me a favor and book the studio. Book Bill Halverson” — who was our engineer — “and book the band. We’re coming down tomorrow.” I said, “Wow, I’ll do that. But why?”

He told me the story of Neil writing “Ohio” and how deeply he felt about it. Even though it was a very humanly political song, I think we did a great job of it. When we were recording and got to the end of the song, David laid into it, asking why this happened: “How many more? Why? I wanna know why.” He was so unbelievably emotional about it. It’s a special moment for me to witness. That was a great, huge middle finger to Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger. The students killed were doing their God-given right to protest what the government was doing in their name.

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Song that took the most courage to write

I think every song takes a little courage to write because time is our only currency and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time. Why would I sit down and play somebody a bad song? Every song that I write is a courageous bit of music because you don’t know how people are going to take it.

Album that served as your biggest reality check

Déjà Vu. There was a big difference between our first record and this one. When we made Crosby, Stills & Nash, I was in love and living with Joni Mitchell. Stephen was in love with Judy Collins. David was in love with his girlfriend, Christine Hinton. Everything and everyone was in a beautiful place. And when we gathered a year and a half later to work on Déjà Vu, Joni and I were no longer an item, Stephen and Judy had broken up, and Christine had been killed in a motor accident. We were very different people. We were darker. Perspectives had changed. Crosby, Stills & Nash is a sunny record, and Déjà Vu has an overcast. Even Neil was going through some hardships with his life, which I won’t get into.

Absolute favorite harmonies to sing

“Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” lets people know that we were very serious about the sound that we had created; I think that that song shows that deeper than anything. Me and David would always watch Stephen. It was the first thing we tried to do in the studio while making that first record. We knew it was an important song, and we would just watch Stephen. He would sing the song to us, and we knew instinctively what to do. And, of course, doing the “do-do-do-do-do”s is fun.

Most therapeutic recording experience

“Cathedral.” I had just come from lying in the middle of the grass in Stonehenge. A little further down the road was a small church, and on the wall of the church was the Round Table of King Arthur. Now, it’s possible that it’s fake — but if that’s the case, it’s been fake for 400 years. As I was going into the church, there was a man dressed like a Beefeater, and on his hand he had a plate. On the plate were a couple of horned beakers of water and small pieces of bread. As I came into the entrance to the church, he put it in my face. I didn’t quite know what was happening. He said, “Wait a second — you are a traveler. Don’t you know?” Excuse me? He said, “You are a traveler. Don’t you know it’s just okay to be?”

Even behind the acid, that was an incredible statement to make to me at that moment: “Don’t you know it’s just okay to be?” I walked up to the nave toward a statue of Jesus, and I felt this incredible feeling in my legs. It made me look down. It was like I was standing on the grave of a soldier who had died in 1799. Ever since that moment, I’ve tried to be me. After I took LSD, everything changed in my life. I began to realize that we were a ball of mud spinning in space in a galaxy that has a hundred-million suns, which is one of billions of galaxies. I realized at that moment that everything was meaningless in a way — but at the same time, it was meaningful.

Proudest one-take song

“Lady of the Island.” It was a true one take. It was very personal to me. There are essences in it of my first wife, Rose, and Joni — just the intense emotions of what I was feeling about them. I wear my heart on both sleeves. I particularly love Crosby’s vocal pattern, which almost sounds like a cello. We knew that we had expressed it the best way we could, so there was no point in doing any more takes.

David Crosby story that would make anyone smile

We were once in Hawaii going down to Hana, and our tour manager slipped and shattered his knee. It was awful, and nobody was around besides us. David carried him on his back for two miles to get help. It was a simple thing, but anyone can figure out exactly where the heart of David lay.

Your top bucket-list item

Singing a two-part harmony on “Yesterday” with one guitar with Paul McCartney. If anyone has Paul’s number, give him a call for me.