As the lead singer and founding member of the Byrds, Gene Clark had one of the most promising introductions to the music business that anyone could hope for.

He was an instant star, writing some of their most popular songs, including “I’ll Set You Free This Time”, “I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better” and “Eight Miles High”, and enjoyed the status of sharing a #1 hit with the band in 1964. At some point, though, Roger McGuinn deemed himself as the band’s lead vocalist, leaving Clark frustrated and without a specific purpose in the band. This, combined with an abject fear of flying, caused him to leave the group and work as a solo artist.

Immediately, though, Clark’s records were released in direct competition with his old bandmates, so sales of his solo efforts suffered. A pattern was established and it stuck; Clark would release an album to rave reviews, and nobody would buy it. With little promotion and minimal live performances, none of his solo albums would scratch the top 200. With his fifth album, “Roadmaster”, interest diminished to the point where it was only released in the Netherlands, so by 1974, his career was in a shambles.

A 1973 reunion with the Byrds resulted in one lukewarm album, with Clark’s input providing the only bright spots. Based on this, Asylum Records signed Clark, with the understanding that they would revitalize his career. Asylum was ground zero for singer-songwriters, featuring acts such as the Eagles, Joni Mitchell, Tom Waits and Jackson Browne, so Clark suddenly found himself on a label sympathetic to his style. What could go wrong?

Clark set out to make an album worthy of the newfound attention, an album bound to be recognized by the masses, one that would reassert him as one of America’s premier singer-songwriters. He wrote with intense focus, drawing from folk, rock, soul, funk and gospel for music, then layering his melodies with deeply introspective poetry. The songs could well be deemed masterpieces, but the label was aghast when they discovered that he spent a small fortune in the process of creating this deeply personal, but commercially doomed masterpiece. As far as the label was concerned, the album’s strengths were actually its flaws - too introspective, complex and self-centered to be embraced by a fickle pop audience. There was nothing that even resembled a hit single. They washed their hands of the affair, and “No Other” stalled at #144. Even critics were harsh, dismissing “No Other” as a self-indulgent, pointless morass.

Hearing “No Other” today, it’s almost impossible to discern what caused the label to blanch.  Clark’s writing is deliberate and thoughtful, with well-constructed arrangements that sound almost fussy. In an age when Fleetwood Mac and Steely Dan were spending months attempting to perfect their sound, “No Other” could have fit in quite well with its contemporaries. The real beauty of the album takes time to appreciate fully. Admittedly, it may require repeat listens but given time, the beauty of songs like “Silver Raven”, “No Other” and “Strength of Strings” slowly reveal themselves to be the masterpieces that they are. Clark knew that he made the album he intended, but in 1974, precious few people agreed. Sadly, even with such modest success, it remains the only Gene Clark album to chart at all.

Featured Tracks:

Life's Greatest Fool

Silver Raven

No Other

Strength of Strings

From a Silver Phial

Some Misunderstanding

The True One

Lady of the North

September 1974 - Billboard Charted #144