“Free Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, America’s Stairway to Heaven, is a long, sprawling southern rock epic. Spanning eleven minutes and some change, it leaves us room to wade the cool waters of a southern creek on a hot southern summer day, then into the night when the real party starts. It’s one long build-up that falls back multiple times before an all-out piano thumpin’, upbeat, slide guitar soloing ending that’s both jarringly out of place and makes more sense than any other ending they could’ve come up with. To listen to this song, or to watch one of the few videos available of a live performance of it, feels like a Saturday in Jacksonville, spent havin’ beers at a BBQ with some raucous friends.
Formed in 1964 with Ronnie Van Zandt on vocals, Allen Collins and Gary Rossington on guitars, Larry Junstorm on bass, and Bob Burns on drums, Lynard Skynyrd originally went by the band name “My Backyard.” If that ain’t some good ol’ boy band naming, I don’t know what is.
They had multiple lineup changes before settling in with the core group and deciding to go by Lynard Skynyrd in 1968. Really finding their groove in the world of Southern-influenced hard rock, which they helped popularize with the likes of The Allman Brothers and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Southern Rock is characterized by blues-rock guitar sounds and incorporates a country and folk feel to the tunes as well.
They’d gain substantial fame and recognition in the 1970s, with songs like “Sweet Home Alabama,” “Simple Man,” and of course, the ever-so-famous “Free Bird.” Or “Freebird,” if you choose to spell it that way. Both are acceptable for some reason.
A song that became part of the ethos of American music in the latter half of the 20th century, mostly called out by drunk guys at rock concerts in hopes of getting a few chuckles, while mostly receiving sighs and rolled eyes instead. “PLAY FREEBIRD!” We’ve all heard it, and many of us have probably yelled it out more than once. It’s a modern American classic, both the song and the bit.
Guitarist Allen Collins initially conceived the chord progression two years before the song was fleshed out, as vocalist Van Zandt said there were too many chords in it for him to write a melody over when he first heard it. Collins played it randomly at practice years later, and it caught Zandt’s ear. He told Collins to repeat it, then went on to write the lyrics in a few minutes. Moral of the story? Don’t sell yourself short.
All of the solos at the end of the song, which comprise quite a bit of play time, were included to give Ronnie a break to catch his breath. With the addition of roadie Billy Powell’s piano intro, the song would become a sprawling epic that record company executives said would never get airplay because it was at least three minutes too long.
Obviously, it’s likely that you tell a southern fella back then to change something against their will, and they’re going to dig their heels in and stubbornly fight back. It worked out for them in the long run, as it’s become one of the most famous and recognizable songs in Rock and Roll history.
The song, lyrically, is about freedom and the ability to do as one pleases. Ronnie would say in an interview about the song, “what it means to be free, in that a bird can fly wherever it wants to go,” and “everyone wants to be free….that’s what this country is about.” From the lyrics to the drawn-out jam sections, this song embodies that ethos, and it’s best displayed when watching videos of them playing it live in the years before the plane crash would take the lives of multiple members, including vocalist Van Zandt.
The video of the concert at the Oakland Coliseum, at the height of their fame in July 1977, is the perfect way to experience the full impact of “Free Bird.” The audience, a mix of mustached, shirtless men and sun-kissed girls, packed to the gills, all with bleary-eyed smiles and sunburns, was truly excited to be there and experiencing it. American flags blew in the breeze, a massive Confederate flag hung behind the band, as the rebellious southern boys played the ballad section of the track, the crowd slowly swaying to the gradually building patriotic rock tune.
As that slow build finally kicks full force into that almost LSD drenched psychedelic rock jam of repeated chord progressions and guitar solos, so Ronnie could take his break, the crowd is going bananas. The cheering starts to drown out the instruments, as arms raise to the skies and nearly everyone in attendance jumps up and down in place. The energy is palpable and chaotic, the absolute antithesis of the first half of the song.
Solos are traded back and forth until they kick into a long, drawn-out outro, giving the audience a bit more to scream and cheer for. A cacophonous climax to a wildly executed rendering of a southern epic. It would’ve been a hell of a thing to see in person, but at least we are lucky enough to get a real hardy taste of it on YouTube, whenever we feel the itch that only Freebird can scratch.