Lynyrd Skynyrd – Southern Pride

For over a century, the adjective "southern" has carried a meaning (and on this point America and Italy are quite similar) of narrow-mindedness, racism, conservatism, backwardness, along with a whole series of related stereotypes. The Ku Klux Klan, racial segregation, significant economic, cultural and social gaps (in Italy: mafia, poverty, ignorance) have for years been the mental images conjured up by the word "South". From a musical point of view, however, things went very differently. Genres such as blues, soul, gospel, country, bluegrass, rockabilly and rock'n'roll all started out in obscure American backwaters before spreading like wildfire across the whole continent and, from there, around the world. Artists of the calibre of Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Hank Williams, Elvis Presley and James Brown, to name just a few, were nothing more than hopeful young men, born and raised in distant, anonymous towns, who, armed with tenacity and talent, made their fortune often by singing about the contradictions of their homelands. And yet their music never lacked a kind of pride, mixed with a visceral love, for their humble, simple origins. It was, however, the Allman Brothers Band, from Macon, Georgia, who were the first to offer up that blend of blues, country and rock later dubbed southern rock. Slide guitar and Hammond organ, a raspy voice and long instrumental jams provided the kaleidoscope of colours that would go on to inspire many bands in the years that followed, including Alabama, ZZ Top, Black Oak Arkansas and Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was above all the latter who absorbed, digested and ultimately spread the teachings of the Allman brothers, through a highly personal reworking of their style, laced with boogie, honky tonk and the most classic southern iconography.

Unlike their illustrious predecessors, whose lyrics were mostly geared toward the travel and romantic frustration typical of the blues, Lynyrd Skynyrd managed to introduce into their music a veiled social theme rooted in country and folk tradition. In this regard they engaged in a sort of ongoing dialogue with Neil Young, the band's guiding spirit and great friend, who, despite his "northern" origins, probed the economic and social conditions of rural America in some of his most famous songs. The Canadian songwriter, however, cast his giant shadow over much of the band's output, making them something of an anomaly on the southern rock scene. The many points of contact, the mutual esteem and influence between musicians so different in origin, style and sound, also helped to lend nobility and definition to a genre that was, at the time, still expanding (the same thing would happen again almost twenty years later, in 1995, on "Mirror Ball", where the ghosts of Neil Young met the grunge of Pearl Jam). To understand the reasons behind Lynyrd Skynyrd's worldwide success, though, we need to leap back in time to the Sixties, when three schoolmates began, almost as a game, to play together.

That tedious gym teacher

The band's hard core formed around Ronnie Van Zant (Jacksonville, 15 January 1948), Allen Collins (Jacksonville, 19 July 1952) and Gary Rossington (Jacksonville, 4 December 1951), three teenagers raised on blues in the streets of Jacksonville, a Florida city famed for its musical ferment. The three friends, students at Robert E. Lee High School, united by a burning passion for music, formed their first band in 1964, called "The Noble Five". After a year of work and the addition of two new members, bassist Larry Junstrom (Pittsburgh, 22 June 1949) and drummer Bob Burns (Jacksonville, 24 November 1950), the band changed its name to "My Backyard", and began to achieve some modest results. In 1968, in fact, after winning a local contest called "Battle Of The Bands", My Backyard opened several shows across the Southeastern United States for the Californian band Strawberry Alarm Clock, famous for their psychedelic hit "Incense And Peppermint", and recorded the forgettable single "Need All My Friends/Michelle", released on the Shade Tree Records label.

During this period their musical background was, naturally, shaped by the growing British Invasion (Free, Yardbirds, Rolling Stones, Beatles) combined with the blues and country typical of American folk tradition. After their brief live stint and the discouraging response to their musical debut, Van Zant and co. went back to rehearsal and their everyday lives. They realised a drastic image overhaul was needed to achieve the success they hoped for, and the makeover began precisely with the choice of a new name. In 1970, after considering various options including "One Percent" and once again "The Noble Five", they settled on the name "Leonard Skinner", a satirical tribute to the gym teacher of the same name from their school. Mr. Skinner had, in fact, proven particularly strict with the unruly Collins, Rossington and Van Zant, especially over their (in his eyes) obnoxious habit of wearing their hair long. Rossington in particular grew so tired of the strait-laced teacher's constant scolding over his hair that he left school altogether. The resentment, however, remained purely "academic", since the teacher and his "troublesome" pupils became genuine friends over the years, with mutual expressions of esteem to prove it.

Having finally found their name, the newly formed Leonard Skinner hurried to find a manager and found one in their fellow Jacksonville native Pat Armstrong, who had recently founded Hustler's Inc. together with Alan Walden. After a period of relentless rehearsals at the "Hell House" in Green Cove Springs, the group began playing across the Southern states, building a solid reputation thanks to their wild, gripping live shows. However, the volatile temperaments of its various members (Van Zant above all) led to constant friction and line-up changes that continued throughout the first half of the Seventies. Indeed, even during this period, the original line-up underwent several changes: Junstrom was replaced on bass by Greg T. Walker, and Rickey Medlocke (Jacksonville, 17 February 1950) was brought in as vocalist and additional drummer. During this "interregnum" the band played a number of shows with Medlocke and Burns on drums, and recorded some demos at Muscle Shoals Sound Studios, though without Burns' involvement. Soon after, however, Walker and Medlocke left to form Blackfoot. They were immediately replaced by the returning Burns on drums and Leon Wilkeson (Newport, 2 June 1952) on bass, who made their debut during the second round of sessions at Muscle Shoals in 1972. The sound was further bolstered by the addition of roadie Billy Powell (Corpus Christi, 3 June 1952) as keyboardist.

With this line-up (Van Zant on vocals, Collins and Rossington on guitars, Wilkeson on bass, Powell on keyboards and Burns on drums), during a show at Funocchio's in Atlanta, Leonard Skinner were discovered by musician, composer and producer Al Kooper (Brooklyn, 5 February 1944), a former session man for Bob Dylan and a founding member of Blood, Sweat & Tears. The sheer power of the show and the musicians' technical skill convinced Kooper to sign them, putting pen to paper for the Sounds Of The South label, distributed by the far larger Mca Records.

After a few strategic tweaks, such as mangling the name into Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Jacksonville boys were ready for their vinyl debut. Lynyrd Skynyrd (Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd) came out in August 1973, although its making was disrupted by a few "unforeseen events". In the middle of recording at Studio One in Doraville, Georgia, Leon Wilkeson left the band for reasons never fully explained, despite having written most of the bass lines and played on the tracks "Mississippi Kid" and "Tuesday's Gone". He was replaced by Strawberry Alarm Clock guitarist Ed King (Glendale, 14 September 1949), who thus found himself doing double duty. Despite these disruptions, the album was an immediate hit with critics and fans alike, thanks to its rock-solid sound and the driving rhythm of many of its songs.

The off-kilter opening salvo of "I Ain't The One", which kicks off side A, makes things clear right away. Collins and Rossington's cutting guitars fill the grooves with notes, while Van Zant's grimy voice sings of his refusal to settle into stable, lasting relationships. The boozy melancholy of "Tuesday's Gone" captures the band's awareness of how definitively their lives had changed with the arrival of success ("Train roll on many miles from my home, see I'm, I'm riding my blues away, yeah"). Worth noting is Rossington's splendid lead guitar work and Kooper's magnificent finishing touches (the album's real guest star) on mellotron and backing vocals. The sadness, however, vanishes immediately as the riff that ignites the blazing boogie of "Gimme Three Steps" kicks in. The lyrics lighten up to tell a story worthy of the best late-nineteenth-century saloons. The protagonist's encounter with a girl named Linda Lou in a small-town bar is abruptly interrupted by the arrival of her boyfriend, who, to make his point, decides a .44 Magnum is the best way to do it. The only solution: run (“Won’t you give me three steps/ Gimme three steps mister/ Gimme three steps towards the door?/ Gimme three steps/ Gimme three steps mister/ And you’ll never see me no more”). Here it's Burns' drumming that steals the show, alongside Bobbye Hall's deft percussion.

The loving advice of a grandmother and a mother ("Mama told me/ when I was young") about leading a simple, steady life (advice, incidentally, largely ignored) sits at the heart of the powerful ballad "Simple Man", whose title contains a veiled tribute to Neil Young (the alliteration with his "Southern Man" is unmistakable). Written in the wake of the deaths of Rossington's grandmother and Van Zant's mother, the song has, over time, become one of the band's most acclaimed, thanks to its rugged opening arpeggio, the liquid sound of the Hammond organ and its hoarse, catchy chorus.

Opposition to racial segregation, still prevalent in the Southern states at the time, the grim reality of ghetto life, and fierce socio-political critique are at the heart of "Things Goin' On", which opens side B. The galloping honky tonk rhythm masks the rawness of the lyrics (“Well, have you ever lived down in the ghetto/ Have you ever felt that cold wind blow/ Well, if you don’t know what I mean/ Won’t you stand up and scream”), sung in a weary, worn-out voice. Powell's piano is the real star of the track, pushing the guitars into the background for once, thanks to a riff worthy of the smokiest Louisiana dive bars. Al Kooper's mandolin and Ed King's slide guitar form the connecting thread of "Mississippi Kid", a fantastic unplugged blues steeped in southern pride ("Well I was born in Mississippi/ I don't take any stuff from you"). Steve Katz's harmonica solo is stellar. Lynyrd Skynyrd immediately plug back in to deliver the boozy rock of "Poison Whiskey". Behind Ed King's fine bass work and Powell's piano lies the story of a man who died from drinking poisoned whiskey (perhaps, who knows, a nod to blues master Robert Johnson), all wrapped up in the most classic southern iconography of bayous, kinfolks and cajun life.

Closing out the album is the epic, moving "Free Bird" which, with its heartfelt dedication to the late Duane Allman, represents a kind of symbolic handover between the Allman Brothers Band and the Jacksonville outfit. Even in sound, the track strongly recalls the Macon band, especially in its intricate guitar interplay, the use of organ and the dazzling closing solo. The lyrics, moreover, contain a true anthem to freedom as life's supreme, non-negotiable value ("'Cause I'm as free as a bird now/ and this bird you can not change").

Released on August 13, 1973, Pronounced Leh-nerd Skin-herd was a strong commercial success, going gold just a year and a half later. Meanwhile, bassist Leon Wilkeson returned to the fold (just in time to appear in the band's now-historic cover photo), and temporary stand-in Ed King, given his skill on the six-string, was shifted over to guitar, further enriching the band's already powerful sound. From that point on, the Lynyrd Skynyrd line-up was always built around three guitarists, which heightened their impact on audiences both musically and visually. Following the album's release, the band played an enormous number of shows across the United States, even landing a support slot on the American leg of the Who's massive Who Quadrophenia Tour, which exposed them to huge crowds and brought them incredible popularity.

This final artistic and musical maturity allowed the Jacksonville boys to take the decisive step toward their definitive consecration.

The great leap forward

They say the second album is always the hardest, but that wasn't the case at all for Lynyrd Skynyrd. Fresh off their triumphant tour, in January 1974 the band headed to Record Plant Studios in Los Angeles to record what would become their masterpiece: Second Helping.

Produced once again by Kooper, the album is marked by the crucial contribution of Ed King, who co-wrote several songs and beefed up the band's sound with the precise tones of his Fender Stratocaster. From the very first notes, it's clear that this time Lynyrd Skynyrd mean business. "Sweet Home Alabama" lodges itself in the listener's ears, sweeping them up in an impetuous whirl of boogie and honky tonk. The unmistakable opening riff that snakes through the entire song, the fiery guitar interplay between Collins, Rossington and King, Powell's devilish piano and Van Zant's rough-edged vocals make the track one of Skynyrd's signature anthems and one of the finest examples of southern rock ever recorded. Despite its seemingly carefree, upbeat groove, the song tackles complex socio-political issues that defined 1970s America, such as Watergate and racial segregation (“In Birmingham they love the governor (Boo Boo Boo)/ Now we all did what we could do/ Now Watergate does not bother me/ Does your coscience bother you/ Tell the truth”), even sparking a long-distance feud with the elder statesman of North American songwriting, Neil Young, who had written two scathing critiques of the South: "Southern Man" and "Alabama" (“Well, I heard mister Young sing about her/ Well, I heard ole Neil put her down/ Well, I hope Neil Young will remember/ A Southern Man don’t need him around anyhow”). As a final word on the matter, Young, in his 2013 memoir ("Waging Heavy Peace"), came close to apologizing: "My own song 'Alabama' richly deserved the shot Lynyrd Skynyrd leveled at me with their great record. I don't like my words when I listen to it today. They are accusatory and condescending, not fully thought out, and too easy to misconstrue." "Sweet Home Alabama" also contains a heartfelt tribute to Muscle Shoals Studios ("Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers/ And they've been known to pick a song or two"), a true point of pride for "southern" music.

The aching "I Need You" confirms once again the sheer grace of a band able to pump incredible energy even into a pleading love song, thanks to the relentless drumming of guest Mike Porter and the remarkable work of the three guitarists (Ed King above all). Rock takes back the reins on the following "Don't Ask Me No Questions", which recalls both the structure and rhythm of "Gimme Three Steps", a true gem from the previous album. Backed by a horn section led by Bobby Keys (a session veteran of the Rolling Stones, Joe Cocker and many others), the band launches into a heartfelt defense of musicians' need to "unplug" once they step off stage and reclaim a modicum of privacy in the face of pushy fans, journalists and managers ("But when I come off the road, well I just got to have my time/ 'Cause I got to find a break in this action, else I'm gonna lose my mind"). Side one closes with "Workin' for MCA", where the tones darken and the rhythm turns more hammering, underscoring the pressure record labels put on musicians (“Want you to sign your contract/ Want you to sign today/ Gonna give you lots of money/ Workin’ for Mca”).

Side B opens with "The Ballad of Curtis Loew", a tender dobro-driven ballad in which Lynyrd Skynyrd, through narrative metaphor, pay tribute to the music of their homeland: the blues. Curtis Loew, in fact, is nothing less than the personification of the blues itself. Described as a Black man with curly white hair ("Black man with white curly hair"), Mr. Loew is encountered by chance by a boy during a sleepless night. After buying some wine, the two spend the day together, during which Curtis Loew shows off his skill on the dobro guitar (the quintessential blues instrument), dazzling his new friend, who from then on never misses a chance to spend time with him. Interracial friendship in the South can be a fraught matter, but despite his mother's scolding and society's disapproval, the boy keeps visiting Curtis Loew, calling him the finest picker to ever play the blues ("The finest picker to ever play the blues"). Once again, racial themes surface in the band's catalogue, highlighting society's narrow-mindedness while celebrating the universality of music, which isn't divided into black and white, but simply good or bad.

After such a strong statement, the band's love for their homeland comes roaring back, expressed through praise of its musical traditions. "Swamp Music", whose title alone leaves no room for doubt, conjures the most evocative images of the southern world — swamps, hound dogs, rural life — all carried along by a frantic country beat (it could be described as Lynyrd Skynyrd's answer to Creedence Clearwater Revival's Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Green River"). The ordeal of drug addiction is tackled head-on in the raw "The Needle and the Spoon", where, beneath the usual catchy guitar riff, all the pain of an existence dominated by heroin comes through (“I’ve been feelin’ so sick inside/ Got to get better, lord before I die/ Seven doctors couldn’t help my head, they said/ You better quit, son before your dead”).

The album closes with a rollicking "Call Me the Breeze", a J.J. Cale song that rightfully earned its place among Lynyrd Skynyrd's most famous tracks. The band is truly on fire here, showing off a tightness and technical level a cut above the rest. Powell's piano, with its blistering solo, locks in perfectly with the groove laid down by the horn section, while Wilkeson's commanding bass supplies the necessary boogie. Collins, Rossington and King's hands fly across their fretboards, while Van Zant's voice is a hungry roar ready to devour Cale's lyrics and hand them back to the listener dripping with brash southern pride.

Released in April 1974, Second Helping peaked at number 12 on the charts and went gold. The success it achieved allowed the band to tour not as an opening act but as the headlining attraction (in July 1975 they were among the main draws at the Ozark Music Festival at the Missouri State Fairgrounds in Sedalia). Despite the growing demand for live shows and their immense popularity, the band's already fragile internal balance was once again put to the test. Worn down by the relentless schedule and accumulated stress, drummer Bob Burns left the group at the end of 1974, replaced by Artimus Pyle (Louisville, July 15, 1948).

With their new drummer, Lynyrd Skynyrd headed to Studio One in Doraville, Georgia, and then to Webb IV Studios in Atlanta, to record their third album: Nuthin' Fancy. The new lineup change affected the recording sessions, giving the album a somewhat less incisive edge than its predecessor. Side one opens with the brooding "Saturday Night Special", a scathing indictment of gun liberalization in the United States and the spiral of violence tied to it ("Big Jim done pull his pistols/ Shot his friend right between his eyes"). The harshness of the lyrics is matched by the harshness of the arrangement. Heavily distorted guitars, sudden tempo shifts, and a raw, pained vocal delivery give the track its drama and force. The perverse allure of guns also sits at the heart of the hallucinatory "Cheatin' Woman", where unrequited love for the "wrong" woman curdles into death threats fueled by blinding jealousy ("I'm gonna get that pistol gal/ I'm gonna shoot you and all your pals"). The stretched-out rhythm and worn-out vocal once again underline the brutality and violence of the subject matter.

The mood lightens slightly with the thoroughly enjoyable "Railroad Song", which, as the title suggests, centers on travel for its own sake. It brings to mind legendary itinerant musicians like Woody Guthrie or Jimmie Rodgers, who crossed the United States on boxcars, scraping by playing on street corners, often eyed with suspicion by local authorities (“So I asked the policeman/ Can I stay a long/ He said Mr. Hobo won’t you go now/ We don’t want you around/ See I’m trying to build a respectable town/ And we don’t need a hobo like you hanging around”). The musical backing clearly mimics the chugging, rhythmic motion of a steam train, thanks to Jimmy Hall's harmonica, in fine form, and Artimus Pyle's frantic hi-hat work. Rock surges back with "I'm a Country Boy", where, beneath razor-sharp guitars, lies a lyric that is the quintessence of "southern proud" ("Big City hard times - Don't bother me/ I'm a country boy/ I'm happy as I can be").

Side B opens with the blunt "On the Hunt", in which a boy "on the prowl" tries to convince a girl to sleep with him. Van Zant's voice here is more supple than ever, moving effortlessly from a rough, confidential tone to a high, piercing falsetto. The sound is as hard and powerful as ever, the riffs sharp and incisive, almost recreating the feel of a relentless, breathless chase. The delicate "Am I Losin'", pure Lynyrd Skynyrd through and through, is perhaps the album's best track. Dedicated to the loss of a friend, the song closely recalls "Sweet Home Alabama" in its chord progression, opening riff and climactic final stretch. The tempo is halved and the boogie is almost entirely absent compared to that far more famous 1974 masterpiece, but the sound as a whole is impeccably crafted, thanks to the prominent use of acoustic guitar. The central bridge, moreover, gives the track enough freshness and originality that it never feels like a pale imitation. "Made in the Shade" opens with an intro straight out of a country-fair band before giving way to old-school country, dominated throughout by guest star Barry Harwood's dobro and mandolin. Here Van Zant delves into one of his youthful memories, singing of unrequited teenage love ("I can tell pretty mama I been wastin' time/ Well you don't really love me").

The album closes with the carefree "Whiskey Rock-A-Roller", in which the band proudly reaffirms, as if it needed saying, its devotion to music's holy trinity: sex, drugs & rock'n'roll (“Well I’m a wiskey rock-a-roller/ That’s what I am/ Woman, whiskey and miles of travellin’/ Is all I understand”).

Riding the success of its predecessor, Nuthin' Fancy cracked the American Top 10, peaking at number 9 and going gold just three months after its release. Yet consecration, popularity and money weren't enough to cool tensions within the band. Fresh defections once again reshuffled Lynyrd Skynyrd's lineup. Longtime producer Al Kooper departed by mutual agreement with the band right after the album's tense recording sessions. Then Ed King walked out, literally slamming the door behind him: "Tired of butting heads with that lunatic Ronnie." It was a heavy loss. The promotional tour and the band's sound suffered considerably as a result. Ed King had been a key piece of the puzzle, both for the guitar interplay in the studio and for the visual impact on stage. A round of auditions immediately began to find a replacement, but things proved far trickier than expected.

In the early months of 1976, Lynyrd Skynyrd officially hired backing singers Cassie Gaines, Leslie Hawkins and Deborah Jo "JoJo" Billingsley (known collectively as The Honkettes) in an attempt to find a new balance and refresh their ailing sound. With this radically revamped lineup, and under the guidance of new producer Tom Dowd, the band shut themselves in the studio to record new material, which would become the album Gimme Back My Bullets.

Recorded at the Record Plant in Los Angeles and at Capricorn Studios in Macon (already the longtime den of the Allman Brothers Band), this record showed a clear drop in inspiration and a technical quality noticeably weaker than its predecessors. Still, the hard, raw rock of the title track, opening side A, pulls no punches. The drama of marginalization, alcoholism and violence is at the song's core ("Sweet talkin people done ran me out of town/ and I drank enough whiskey to float a battleship around"). The tender "Every Mother's Son" lowers the temperature considerably, thanks to acoustic guitar and lyrics centered on the exhaustion that comes with success and the longing for a return to one's roots ("Well I've been ridin' a winning horse for a long long time/ And sometimes I wonder is this the end of the line"). Van Zant's weary voice and Collins' arpeggio give the track a glimmer of shining sadness and remarkable impact.

The melancholy doesn't last long. The power of the guitars and the fumes of alcohol come roaring back on "Trust", an angry rocker aimed at the falseness of certain friendships and certain loves (“You can’t alway trust your woman/ you can’t always trust your best friend/ Beware of the ones that you need y’all/ ‘Cause those might be the ones that do you in”). Closing out the side is a cover of J.J. Cale's "I Got The Same Old Blues", reworked with blazing riffs and distorted guitars.

The stuttering riff of "Double Trouble" opens side two. The outstanding work of the Collins-Rossington duo underscores Van Zant's thinly veiled autobiographical lyrics about a wild, violent life ("Eleven times I been busted/ eleven times I've been to jail"). The new Honkettes' backing vocals prove invaluable here. The driving "Roll Gypsy Roll" and "Searchin'" pave the way for the powerful, faintly psychedelic rock of "Cry For The Bad Man". This heartfelt tribute to a friend with a particularly turbulent life ("He lives his life for a dollar sign/ And to deal with him is dangerous") features excellent interplay between Van Zant and the backing singers, alongside the usual groove supplied by the rest of the band.

The soft "All I Can Do Is Write About It" closes the record with a melancholy reflection on the ever-growing, now-irreversible industrial development of the Southern states, met with thinly disguised contempt by Skynyrd purists ("I can see the concrete slowly creepin'/ Lord take me and mine before that come").

Released on February 2, 1976, Gimme Back My Bullets suffered a sharp drop in sales, peaking at only number 20 on the US charts. Rossington, Collins and Van Zant blamed this partial failure on the lack of a third guitarist, essential to recreating the full, defined sound of their first three albums. Lynyrd Skynyrd therefore began auditions again to find a musician capable of filling the gap left by Ed King. After numerous tryouts, including one from Leslie West (leader of Mountain), the band settled on a young guitarist named Steve Gaines (Seneca, September 14, 1949), brother of backing singer Cassie Gaines. Already a founding member of Crawdad, the new arrival was put to the test during a concert in Kansas City on May 11, 1976, after which he was officially invited to join the group.

The injection of new energy did Lynyrd Skynyrd a world of good: within a few months they recorded the double live album One More From The Road at the Fox Theater in Atlanta (a brilliant run-through of all their crowd favorites) and delivered a fantastic performance at the Knebworth festival.

The Final Flight

Along with record executives and the public, fate itself began to take a serious interest in the band. Both Collins and Rossington were seriously involved in two terrifying car accidents, which forced the band to slow down their studio work and cancel several tour dates. Despite their fears, Skynyrd soon returned to the recording studio to work on what would become their swan song: Street Survivors. Recorded, again with Tom Dowd producing, across three different locations - Criteria Studios in Miami, Studio One in Doraville, and Muscle Shoals Sound Studios - the album boasts excellent technical and compositional quality, thanks above all to the crucial contribution of Steve Gaines.

The scorching opening of "What's Your Name" makes things clear right away. The attitude is back to its best, and so is the sound. The guitars are as powerful and precise as they were in Ed King's day. Van Zant's lyrics once again describe the band's life on the road, marked by fights, women and rivers of alcohol (which is exactly what the song is about). The classic "That Smell" draws its inspiration from the terrible accidents that nearly cost Collins and Rossington their lives ("Whiskey bottle and brand new cars/ Oak tree you're in my way"). Van Zant takes the band's constant excesses as a warning about the possible dramatic consequences of a reckless life. The starkly autobiographical lyrics are underscored by the powerful rock backing (with Artymus Pyle's drums and Leon Wilkeson's bass especially prominent).

The power ballad "One More Time", literally dominated by Wilkeson's deep bass notes, returns to the theme of unrequited love, while the fiery boogie of "I Know A Little" (written entirely by Gaines) is a classic hip-shaker, full of breakdowns, tempo changes and scorching solos (just listen to Powell's superb piano work to believe it).

Side B opens with "You Got That Right", a sort of proud, danceable "mea culpa" in which the band admits to leading (and loving) a messy, wandering life ("I like to drink and to dance all night/ Comes to a fix and not afraid to fight"). Love and its consequences return in force on "I Never Dreamed", where, beneath a hard, powerful sound, lies a surprisingly tender lyric ("Oh Lord now I feel so lonely/ I say woman won't you come back home"). Gaines' talent begins to shine through thanks to his invaluable contribution to the songwriting and his flawless guitar work.

On the cover of Merle Haggard's "Honky Tonk Night Time Man", Lynyrd Skynyrd prove they know and can handle country music with ease, and on "Ain't No Good Life" they even reveal themselves to be fine bluesmen.

Released on October 17, 1977, with its famous cover depicting the band engulfed in flames, Street Survivors reached number 5 on the charts, driven by the success of "What's Your Name" and "That Smell".

Three days later, the band was dead.

On October 20, 1977, due to fuel problems, the plane carrying them to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, crashed into a forest near Gillsburg, Mississippi. Ronnie Van Zant, Steve and Cassie Gaines, and road manager Dean Kilpatrick died instantly, along with the crew members: pilot Walter McCreary and co-pilot William Gray. The others were left seriously injured. Allen Collins suffered a fractured cervical vertebra, Gary Rossington sustained multiple fractures to his arms and legs, Leon Wilkeson came away with various fractures, a punctured lung and internal injuries, and Leslie Hawkins had her neck broken in three places and her face disfigured by several lacerations. The shock was tremendous. The cover of Street Survivors (which depicted the band engulfed in flames) was replaced, as a mark of mourning and respect, with a more sober image on a black background.

Unsurprisingly, the band broke up after the disaster. The survivors reunited only once, in January 1979, to perform an instrumental version of "Freebird" together with Charlie Daniels' band. Present were a still-recovering Leon Wilkeson, Leslie Hawkins, JoJo Billingsley, and widows Teresa Gaines and Judy Van Zant. The future and the brilliant career of a band that had become legendary had thus been abruptly cut short by a tragic twist of fate. Or at least that's what everyone believed.

Rock (and problems) never die

With the Lynyrd Skynyrd chapter closed, Collins and Rossington founded The Rossington-Collins Band between 1980 and 1982, but real success never came. Artimus Pyle launched the Artimus Pyle Band project in 1982, but the results were anything but encouraging for him too. On top of the lack of commercial returns came yet another cruel twist of fate. In 1986, while driving under the influence, Allen Collins was involved in a terrible car accident that killed his girlfriend and left him paralyzed from the waist down. Things began to change in 1987, when the surviving members of Lynyrd Skynyrd joined forces with Johnny Van Zant (Ronnie's younger brother) for a tribute to the original lineup on the tenth anniversary of the crash. The series of concerts resulted in a double album, Southern By The Grace Of God/ Lynyrd Skynyrd Tribute Tour 1987, released without much fanfare. Yet, against all expectations, it was a massive success, and the members of the resurrected Skynyrd decided to carry on together. Ed King's return also made headlines (though due to commitments with other projects he was often replaced by Hughie Thomasson), while Collins, due to his physical condition, took on the role of artistic director. Collins' involvement, however, ended very soon, as he died of pneumonia on January 23, 1990.

This reunion also brought legal troubles and courtroom fallout, stemming mainly from the lawsuit filed by widows Judy Van Zant and Teresa Gaines against the other members, who were accused of violating the agreement banning the commercial revival of the historic name. The parties settled, granting the widows 30% of the earnings (the share their husbands would have been entitled to had they still been alive) along with a commission on any income from performances by bands using the name "Lynyrd Skynyrd" that included at least two members of the original lineup.

Despite the band's maturity, its misfortunes and its success, its stability always remained precarious. Lineup changes were a constant. In 1991 drummer Artimus Pyle left, and he was replaced by a string of musicians until the arrival of Michael Cartellone, who finally brought a measure of stability. Randall Hall (the guitarist who had taken over for the incapacitated Collins) left the band in 1993 and was replaced by Mike Estes. In 1996 Mike Estes also departed and was replaced by old friend Rickey Medlocke (one of the very first members of the band back in the early '70s).

In 2001 another blow struck the band. Longtime bassist Leon Wilkeson died of liver and kidney problems. His place was taken by Ean Evans (Atlanta, September 16, 1960). Despite the tragic fate that kept striking its members again and again, the band carried on, releasing in 2003, to mark its thirtieth anniversary, the monumental Thyrty, featuring its biggest hits plus six new tracks. The album was also the starting point for a tour, documented on the DVD Vicious Cycle Tour, and for a double live album, Lyve: The Vicious Cycle Tour, both released in 2004.

In 2005 Hughie Thomasson left the band to join the Outlaws (he would die on September 9, 2007), but that didn't stop Skynyrd, who in February 2005 played at the Super Bowl party in Jacksonville, sharing the stage with the likes of 38 Special and 3 Doors Down. Just two weeks later they were invited to the Grammy Awards for a southern rock tribute, alongside artists of the caliber of Dickey Betts and Keith Urban.

In the summer of 2005 Johnny Van Zant underwent surgery on his vocal cords to remove a polyp. The singer was forced into three months of rest, during which Skynyrd played the Music Relief Concert in aid of Hurricane Katrina victims, with Kid Rock stepping in as lead singer. With Van Zant's return, live shows resumed more energetic and compelling than ever. In 2006 the band's lineup was bolstered by a new guitarist, Mark "Sparky" Matejka, already a founding member of Hot Apple Pie, brought in to replace the departing Thomasson. With this lineup, Lynyrd Skynyrd gave what may have remained their most grandiose concert. On November 2, 2007, they performed at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in Gainesville, as part of the University of Florida's Gator Growl event, playing in front of 50,000 people.

Adverse fate, however, was ready to deal another terrible blow to a band already so battered. On January 28, 2009, keyboardist Billy Powell died suddenly of a heart attack, plunging the band into utter despair. Rossington thus remained the sole survivor of the original lineup and the only link to the band's storied past. Skynyrd reacted in the only way they knew how: by playing. In September 2009 they released the album God & Guns, the last to feature Billy Powell. Recorded for the Roadrunner label at three different studios - Blackbird Studios in Nashville, Studio Sea in Fort Myers, and Sound Kitchen in Franklin - it contains excellent tracks of honest rock'n'roll, among which "Still Unbroken," "That Ain't My America" and the self-celebratory "Skynyrd Nation" stand out. The massive promotional tour also reached Europe and featured Peter Keys on keyboards and Robert Kearns on bass (replacing Ean Evans, who died of cancer on May 6, 2009).

The band continued performing relentlessly throughout 2010 and 2011, also finding time to record new material, which would make up the album Last Of A Dyin' Breed, released on August 21, 2012. Reinvigorated by the sound of new bassist Johnny Colt (replacing the departing Robert Kearns) and guest star John 5, the album contains decent material, even if it adds nothing to the band's already rich body of work. The subsequent tour took in the United States and Europe, racking up astronomical box-office returns everywhere.

Lynyrd Skynyrd are by now an institution and a legend the world over. Their music transcends race and generation, proof that rock'n'roll can conquer time and, sometimes, even death.

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