Published on Jun 27, 2000
Sometimes, you have to really feel for bands like Lynyrd
Skynyrd. It’s been over 20 years since the plane crash that claimed
the lives of band members Ronnie Van Zant, Steve Gaines and Cassie
Gaines, but some of their fans seem to want to believe it’s still
1977, before the horrible crash. Lynyrd Skynyrd has been fronted by
Van Zant’s brother Johnny since the 1987 reunion shows, and the
band has, through nearly as many lineup changes as Spinal Tap,
churned out some damned fine Southern rock.
But fans stubbornly cling to the old songs and don’t want to
even give any time to the new material. Christ, the band could
give each concert-goer their new studio album, and people
would be complaining that there wasn’t the be-all-end-all version
of “Free Bird” tacked on as a bonus track.
So it’s rather sad that Lynyrd Skynyrd should be reduced to
releasing a disc just three albums into the band’s tenure with CMC
International,
Then And Now. What they try to do with this release is to
fairly combine live versions of the old favorites with songs from
the two most recent studio albums – and if there was justice in
this world, this would be enough to get people to run out to
Wal-Mart and to buy
Twenty and
Edge Of Forever, the last two studio efforts.
The one complaint I have with this disc right off the bat is
that
Twenty is criminally ignored, garnering just one track,
“Voodoo Lake”. (They should have at least considered “We Ain’t Much
Different,” a song that some people might have recognized from the
VH-1 special on the band.) Yeah, I realize that the ultimate goal
is to spur on some sales for
Edge Of Forever – which, if you didn’t read the review of it
back in September, is one damned fine album – but it wouldn’t hurt
to get people interested in everything.
Of the 10 tracks on this disc, half of them are pulled from
1997’s
Lyve From Steel Town, another fine release. But what worries
me is that people will focus in on these newer live versions of the
old favorites, rather than getting them to start drooling over the
new material. And while I would love to see people pick up all
three discs that Skynyrd has done with CMC, people might be more
inclined to pick up an album with another version of “That Smell”
than new “untested” (and I use that term loosely) material like
“Tomorrow’s Goodbye”. Three words: Shame on you.
How I’d prefer to look at
Then And Now is as more than ample proof that Johnny Van
Zant is now the undisputed leader of Lynyrd Skynyrd (though he
invokes the ghost of his brother Johnny often). Through both his
mastery of the old material such as “That Smell” and “Sweet Home
Alabama”, and the magical touch he adds to new material like
“Preacher Man” and “Workin'”, Then And Now is like the “Cliff’s
Notes” that ties up Lynyrd Skynyrd’s last three efforts. It doesn’t
give you the whole picture (and certainly not enough to bluff your
way through the test – oh, wait, that’s a high school flashback),
but it’s enough to give you a solid grasp of what’s been going
on.
If, after all this, you’re still not convinced that Johnny Van
Zant can deliver the goods, then by all means pick up
Then And Now. But don’t close your mind off to picking up
the full versions of these three albums. If you consider yourself
even a minor fan of Lynyrd Skynyrd, you’ll soon look at it as money
well spent.