liner notes by Bill Bush

With the release if "Tom Dooley" in October of 1958, the Trio reawakened America to its own folk-rich heritage, paving the way for a broader acceptance of bluegrass, blues, country and other indigenous American musics. Amid purist cries of "bastardization" and criticism of their apolitical stance, they provided the perfect musical Whitman Sampler of all that was out there to be played and employed and savored.

But the Trio really did more than that. They were the catalyst to an entire cultural phenomenon that affected our musical tastes, our social conscience, even how we dressed and talked.

As role models, the Kingston Trio invented it all. They were white, witty, non-conventional - and damned talented. Here were three young collegiate types, smartly dressed in their pinstripe shirts, playing their Martin guitars and having the time of their lives. They made it look so easy: Get some guitars, learn a few chords, throw in a little three-part harmony, and you and your friends can be a big hit on campus.

As the Kingston Trio became a national obsession, racking up million-sellers such as "MTA," "Tijuana Jail" and "Worried Man," and placing five albums concurrently on the Billboard Top Ten chart, hundreds of folk groups were forming in college dorms all over the country. This was the start of the "folk boom," a musical and merchandising mania that totally revitalized a sagging record and guitar manufacturing industry. With the demand for guitars (and banjos) came an insatiable demand for folk performers. Every major record label had it's own version of the Kingston Trio, plus or minus a few members: Peter, Paul and Mary, The Brothers Four, The Chad Mitchell Trio, The Limeliters, The Journeymen, Bud and Travis, The Serendipity Singers, The New Christy Minstrels, the list goes on forever.

While the early Trio was influenced by such groups as the Weavers and the Gate Way Singers, They Consciously steered clear of social commentary. Nonetheless, their repertoire was always highly intelligent, filled with thought-provoking lyrics and memorable melodies. Theirs was never background music: you had to listen to it and be moved by it, which at the time in American popular music was no small accomplishment.

As the folk boom gathered momentum, folk performers used their music as a forum for social change, ushering in the "protest" music era of the early 60's. None of it would have happened without the Kingston Trio. It can be legitimately argued that without Bobby Shane there never would have been a Bobby Dylan. The Trio may not have delivered the message, but they definitely delivered the medium.

And to think it all started at a fraternity luau - literally.

The original Kingston Trio was formed in and around Palo Alto, California by Dave Guard, a Stanford University graduate student, and his two friends, Bob Shane and Nick Reynolds, from near by Menlo College. Guard and Shane were both born in Hawaii, and had been singing and playing together since there high school days at Punahou School in Honolulu. Reynolds, from Coronado, California was the sun of a navy career officer and had attended San Diego State and the University of Arizona.

"I showed up at Menlo not knowing a soul," recalls Reynolds, "and the first day I walk into the accounting class and there's this guy sleeping in the back of the room during the lecture. So I said to myself, anybody who's got the guts to do that I've got to know. It turned out to be Bobby Shane, and we immediately went out and became really tight pals; I don't think we showed up for school for about two weeks afterward."

This Mutual attraction of kindred spirits, which included drinking, carousing, and other forms of hilarity, was further strengthened by an interest in singing, more as a way as improving their social life than furthering their professional aspirations. "Bobby had this tenor guitar and I had some bongos," Reynolds recalls. "We'd show up at these local spots and fraternity parties and get right in there. I was sort of his driver, you know, just hanging out, fascinated by this magnetic person." Later on, he said, 'I've got to introduce you to this guy I know over at Stanford,' which was Dave, and we just sort of fell together. I kinda mooched my way into that thing. Bobby and Dave had been playing together for a long time in Hawaii, and people would want to hire us to play Hawaiian music at their Luaus. They taught me some real Hawaiian songs, the third part, which was real easy considering I'd never been to Hawaii. After a while, we started working like two nights a week at these little beer gardens, one of which had hired me as a bartender.

While this grouping of Guard, Shane and Reynolds would eventually become the Kingston Trio, the group went through several personnel and name changes in the process. Shortly after introducing Reynolds to Guard, Bob Shane returned to Hawaii to work in his father's wholesale sporting goods and toy firm while pursuing a solo singing career as "Hawaii's Elvis Presley." Reynolds and Guard kept at it, adding Joe Gannon (on bass) and Barbara Bogue, billing themselves as "Dave Guard and The Calypsonians."

Reynolds too, was to leave after graduation, to be replaced by Don McArthur in a group that became know as The Kingston Quartet. Nick's return was sparked, in part, by mild encouragement from Frank Werber, a young publicist who had caught a couple of "Dave Guard And The Calypsonians" auditions at the Purple Onion and the Italian Village in San Francisco. "Frank was sort of interested in helping us," says Reynolds, but he told us we'd have to get rid of the bass player. Joe wasn't really a bass player; he was standing there faking it like a gutbucket. So Barbara says 'if Joe goes, I go.' Well, I'd kept in touch with Bobby and I told him there was chance of getting a gig if we really worked at it. So he came back and the three of us got involved with Frank."

As the publicist for both the Purple Onion and The Hungry "i" nightclubs, Werberhad connections - and an absolute eye for talent. Although not a musician, he knew well what it took to build and sustain a successful club act. He was tough and disciplined, and he demanded an absolute and total commitment from Guard, Shane and Reynolds.

Using Werber's office loft above the Purple Onion to rehearse, the group worked on putting together a 25-minute show for a week's fill-in gig for Phyllis Diller at the Purple Onion, arranged by Werber. It was more than an extended audition.

Guard, the most promotionally minded of the three, sent 500 postcards to everyone the group knew at Stanford and Menlo, inviting them up for the week-long "party" at the Purple Onion. The ploy worked, with the Trio playing to sold-out audiences every night. What was to be a one-week engagement was extended to two, with the Trio eventually headlining at the Purple Onion from June to December 1957.

The group now had a small but solid economic base, and with Werber as their mentor and critic, they began an intensive program of polishing, refining and expanding their act.

According to Dave Guard, the vocal arrangements of the early Trio were pretty much determined by who could do what best: "Back then, Bobby didn't know the first thing about harmony, and couldn't sing a harmony part, so he did most of the leads; Nick just naturally goes to a third above the medley; I got stuck with the joker parts - whatever was left on the top or the bottom.

With the exception of Guard, who took a few banjo lessons, the Trio was almost entirely self taught instrumentally. Bobby Shane had originally taught Dave his first rudimentary guitar chords in high school. And Reynolds had played ukulele since childhood, so the transition to playing tenor guitar in the Trio was natural move. The higher voicing of the tenor (it was usually capoed at the 5th or 7th fret) added "bite" to Shane's open chord rhythm playing, greatly filling out the overall sound.

In the initial shaping and grouping of the Trio, Werber recognized that musicianship alone would not cut it with tough club audiences. The Kingston Trio was an act as well as a vocal group, interspersing their songs with humor, well-rehearsed stage banter and lots of personality. Each show during the Purple Onion period was "graded" by Werber on such things as pacing, dialogue, audience reaction, as well as vocal and instrumental delivery. That it all looked and sounded so spontaneous is really a credit to their genius. In truth, everything in their show was there for a purpose, even the humor.

Though the Trio was enormously successful at the Purple Onion, Werber decided that the boys needed the experience of performing before different - and tougher - club audiences. He booked them into the Holiday Hotel in Reno, Chicago's Mr. Kelly's, and the Village Vanguard and Blue Angel in New York.

In February of 1958, between the Reno and Chicago club dates, the group recorded its first album for Capitol Records. It was entitled simply "The Kingston Trio". The boys had been spotted the previous summer at the Purple Onion by Jimmy Saphier, Bob Hope's agent, who took demo tapes to both Dot and Capitol Records. Dot said no; Capitol sent producer Voyle Gilmore up to San Francisco for a closer look. Liking tremendously what he saw and heard, Gilmore signed the Trio to a seven-year contract.

Folk music was something totally new to Voyle Gilmore who had previously produced Frank Sinatra and Four Freshmen dates for Capitol, and his primary concern at this first Trio session was how he and engineer Curly Walters should mike acoustic instruments. Recorded in just three days at Capitol's Studio B in Hollywood, the album was little more than a studio version of the songs they were doing in their live act - which accounts for it's fresh, spontaneous feel. Buzz Wheeler, the resident bass player at the Purple Onion was enlisted for the session, giving some polish to the group's somewhat rough, "homegrown" accompaniment.

Many Kingston Trio aficionados consider this first album to be the group's best. It yielded such Trio classics as "Three Jolly Coachmen," "Scotch and Soda," "Hard, Ain't It Hard," and, of course, "Tom Dooley." According to Reynolds, "Tom Dooley" was learned one afternoon from an unknown singer auditioning for a job at the Purple Onion. Both the Trio and The Gateway Singers included it as just another ballad in their sets. It was not until Bill Terry and Paul Colburn of KLUB radio in Salt Lake City "broke out" the song from the album in July 1958 that "Tom Dooley" was considered anything special, prompting Capitol to release it as a single. By October of that year it had entered the Billboard Top 10 Singles Chart - where it stayed until January of 1959, eventually selling more than 3,000,000 copies.

By this time the Trio had already appeared on CBS Television's Playhouse 90, The Dinah Shore Shown and The Kraft Music Hall. They were stars, especially in San Francisco where earlier in the year they had moved across the street to the "Big Room" at the Hungry I (or "Hungry i" as owner Enrico Banducci preferred to write it.)

Guard, Shane and Reynolds recorded their second album, "From the Hungry 'i'," at about the same time as their first was being released. While musically indistinguishable from their debut LP, this live recording showcases the group's tremendous rapport with its audience. The between the songs banter, although carefully rehearsed, is delivered with relish and spontaneity to an audience that loves every minute of it. The album literally crackles with personality, which was always a critical element of the Trio's appeal.

It was not until the release of the Trio's third LP, "At Large," that the group displayed the highly polished vocal and instrumental sound that would characterize all future Kingston Trio albums. Recorded in New York City between shows at the Blue Angel in early 1959.

"At Large" is a watershed album, marking a dramatic improvement over the rough harmonies and loose accompaniment of the previous two albums.

In addition to constantly rehearsing and improving their musicianship, Bob Shane points out that recording techniques got better at the time of the "At Large" album, and that the Trio became, out of necessity, "recording conscience." Indeed, "At Large" was the first Kingston Trio studio album recorded in stereo, and brought to bear Voyle Gilmore's full producing talents. Both in New York and at Capitol's Studio B in Hollywood, Gilmore recorded the early Trio on 3-track, half-inch machines, using three handing mikes for the voices, and three standing mikes for the instruments. The bass, now played by David "Buck" Wheat, was miked separately.

The unmixed working tape would contain one voice and one instrument per track, with bass being added to Reynolds' tenor guitar track for greater flexibility in equalization. Because stereo recording was new, with no limiters or other means of controlling and directing sound, the quality of the recording was almost entirely a function of mike placement, baffling and Gilmore's own critical sense of balance -- of "what sounded just right."

Gilmore's, engineer William "Pete" Abbot's, and remix engineer Rex Uptegraft's contribution to the Kingston Trio sound cannot be overemphasized. Even today, fans and audiophiles are amazed at the richness of the Trio's voices on the Capitol sessions, the result of Gilmore's "double-voicing" recording technique. Beginning with "At Large," every Kingston Trio album, to some degree, was overdubbed in the following manner: On the first take, the voices were recorded softer than the guitars and banjo. Then the boys would put earphones on and re-record the identical singing parts (with the exception of the solos) over the softer voice track, giving the song a six-voice choral effect. The process was not easy. "Sometimes we'd get real fast, other times some songs would take 50 to 100 takes before we were satisfied," says Bob Shane. Gilmore once estimated that it took twice as long to mix a Kingston Trio album as it did to record it.

From a commercial standpoint, the Kingston Trio successfully exploited virtually all segments of the record-buying market. With each new Trio album entering Billboard's Top 10 chart, a Trio 45 single was receiving heavy airplay on pop, country, and, in the case of "Tom Dooley," even R & B stations. Their appeal seemed universal, prompting Life Magazine to feature the Trio on their August 3, 1959, cover. In both Billboard and Cash Box trade-magazine polls, they were voted "The Best Group Of The Year For 1959" by the nations disc jockeys. The Ballroom Operators of America awarded them their "Best Show Attraction of the Year" award as well. They also picked up two Grammy awards: one for "Tom Dooley," and one for being voted "Country Western Vocal Group of 1958."

Of all the audiences the Trio performed for during their many cross-country tours, none was more enthusiastic and loyal than the college market. The Kingston Trio was theirs; the embodiment of the collegiate good-time ethic. Dave Guard explained the attraction: "The freshmen think that the seniors are hot stuff, but who do the seniors look up to? We were one of the first groups to come out of college and do our own thing. When we graduated, we couldn't face the prospect of putting on suits, so out of sheer panic we clung together and invented something to do out in the cold world. To tell you the truth, we were getting as much out of them as they were getting out of us. We were always in contact with college kids, going out to these parties after the shows. It kept us in touch." Of the 328 days the Trio spent on the road in 1959, more than half of their dates were colleges and universities. "We were tired all the time," says Guard of these early touring days, "but i6t was a great way to see America."

To the outside observer, it seems remarkable that the quality of the Trio's recordings continued to rise. For Guard, Shane and Reynolds, however, it was getting tougher and tougher. After the "Here We Go Again" album, the Trio began to run dry on the supply and quality of material. "We got our craft sky high, if not our inspiration," says Guard, "a lot of the later stuff just didn't grab our hearts. Capitol kept pushing for more albums, and it kind of got reduced to picking songs on the basis of making lists of whether they sounded like a Kingston Trio song. Nick was always making lists of songs we might sing, we were going into sheet music stores looking for things; I started putting songs together -- take a verse from here, a chorus from there -- creating new stuff."

"We had gotten it down to a formula," adds Reynolds. "Every Kingston Trio album would need an opener or a blaster; we'd need a closer; a Bobby Shane tune; a Dave Guard original -- we pretty much had it all laid out before we went into the studio. They were mostly head arrangements. Sometime David would write out the parts for Bobby and I would put them on tape, and I'd listen to them while I was in the darkroom or doing something else at home. When we got into the studio, Bobby and I had our parts down. See, I could harmonize with Bobby, we were together; and sometimes we wouldn't even know what Dave was going to sing until we got there. Dave would say, 'I'm working on my instrumental now; you guys get your parts down and then do the song, and I'll just do my part when it's time; I know where my verse come in.' And when he'd do the song, his harmonies were just killers. If I sat down and listened to the things I haven't listened to in 25 years, I would say God, it's David, his killer harmonies, he had the ear."

While such albums as "Sold Out," "String Along" and "Make Way" may have been recorded under pressure, they are nonetheless filled with superb musicianship, containing some of the Trio's most interesting vocal and instrumental work. From "Sold Out," also recorded in New York, there's "Raspberries, Strawberries" and "Bimini" to appreciate. "String Along" offers even more to savor: "Bad Man's Blunder" (written by Cisco Houston and recorded by the Trio to help pay Houston's hospital bills during the last months of his life) is the Trio at it's best; "The Escape Of Old John Webb" and "Buddy Better Get On Down The Line" showcases their tasteful vocal and instrumental interplay. Even "Make Way," which Bob Shane considers their most blatant filler album, has it's high points -- such as "Bonnie Hielan Laddie" and Guards terrific banjo work on "Blue Eyed Gal."

Perhaps the most musically ambitious album recorded by the Trio is the least known, "Last Month Of The Year," their only Christmas album. Recorded in 1960 between shows at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, the album represented an attempt by the Trio to get back the quality of material and arrangements that each member found personally satisfying.

"It wasn't your standard Christmas album," Reynolds says, "that's why we called it 'Last Month of the Year.' It was pretty complicated little album, some very intricate stuff. David brought in a lot of arrangements with stuff like bouzouki instrumentation; Buckwheat (David Wheat, the Trio's bassist) played some wonderful gut-string guitar. We really worked hard on that one, laying down the instrumentation tracks before we did the vocals, working on harmonies over and over. David was responsible for a lot of that album, but we all brought things in. My son had just been born, and I did a few new songs that were aimed at that very personal thing. Musically, it came off very well; it just didn't sell."

Despite the enormous profitability of the Trio's concerts, endorsements, records, and publishing interests, it was the issue of publishing money, combined with personal differences, that eventually led to the dissolution of the original Kingston Trio.

In October 1960, the Trio discovered a sizable discrepancy in its publishing account, the result of unauthorized "borrowing" by a member of their organization. Shane and Reynolds, while not liking the situation, were hardly alarmed. "What was missing was a drop in the bucket compared to what we were earning -- and it was al eventually paid back," says Reynolds. Guard, however, was furious. It was just one more irritant in his growing discontent over financial and musical direction of the Trio. At the heart of it was a basic difference in personalities and viewpoint, primarily between Guard and Shane.

Although Dave and Bon had grown up together in Hawaii, and had been friends since high school, they were vastly different people. Guard was a brilliant man, intellectually curious and studied in his approach to everything; an experimenter who wanted to push the Trio to new heights of instrumental and vocal achievement. Bob Shane is naturally gifted, born with a superb whisky baritone voice and personal magnetism that cannot be studied or learned. ("On the natch," as Reynolds puts it). Shane saw no need to disturb what he considered to be a perfect formula for success. He probably was right. The combination of Guard's intellectualism with Shane's and Reynolds' personal warmth made the Trio musically interesting without being standoffish. Reynolds stood squarely in the middle in terms of ability to view the situation objectively, but he sided with Shane emotionally: "Basically, David wanted to take it on to another level. Bobby and I were just hangin' out, having a good time. We were happy with the format and working way too hard to consider sitting down and learning to read music. So much of what was successful was that it was a natural thing, a natural kind of energy, and it wouldn't have worked if it were studied or experimented with. It was spiritual, not scientific."

So ended the first Kingston Trio. After the release of a final album, "Goin' Places," and the meeting of several obligations, Dave Guard left to form another group "Dave Guard & the Whisky Hill Singers" which included Judy Henske, Cyrus Faryar and Trio bassist, David Wheat.

Shane and Reynolds set about forming a second -- and totally different -- Kingston Trio with John Stewart.

"I was on Arwin Records as a single, just getting ready to switch from rock and roll to folk, and I was supposed to do a folk album, but instead the publisher sent my songs to the Trio. So now they knew me as a songwriter. When they played the Coconut Grove in Los Angeles, I hopped down there and played them 'Molly Dee' and 'Green Grasses.' Ten months later I got a check for $10,000, and I said, 'Hey, why am I going to college? This is the Promised Land! And that started our professional friendship."

With that friendship came manager Frank Werber's connections and a Roulette Records recording contract for John's own folk group, "The Cumberland Three." When Guard's departure from the Trio became imminent, Stewart was called and told to keep in close touch.

"We really didn't start auditioning people right away," says Nick Reynolds. "Bobby and I just sort of took a vacation and talked it over. We had a record contract, and we decided we wanted to go ahead with a new Trio, to give it a shot. We auditioned a number of different people -- one of the guys from the Modern Folk Quartet, and a few others -- but John was the ideal one. He was perfect for us; we'd known him, he'd written songs for us, there was no hostility, and he was bringing material, enthusiasm and new blood to Bobby and I, plus being in awe of what he was stepping into. John was just enough of a madman to fit in, fortunately, although he didn't realize it at the time and we didn't either. But you know, there are no accidents. We just followed our instincts with John, and it worked right from the start."

Stewart, for his part, was thrilled -- and scared. "The hard part for me, at that age, was being thrust into the Number One group in the world. I was such a fan of the Trio with Dave, and here I was, this 21-year old kid, trying to take his place; it was a difficult thing, something I had to grow into. But they were very kind to me, very supportive. They teased me a lot, but in a very nice way. They were great guys and that made it a lot easier."

"Bobby and Nick were very organic musicians; there was nothing cerebral about there musicianship. It was totally natural, and that was a great part of the magic of the Trio; it was that thing, that natural energy, that made them connect with millions of people. It was a force that some groups have had and some don't, but it is as real as electricity or running water and it translates to anybody, anywhere in the world."

"another thing that made it work was that I came into the group knowing nothing of the fighting or the hassles they'd been having. I came from rock and roll and said, 'Hey, let's have a good time,' and Nick and Bob said, 'Uh -- yeah -- right, let's have a good time' which is what it had been from the beginning."

Nick Reynolds confirms this point, saying, "John did a lot in freeing Bobby and I up, in allowing us to get back on the beach, man. Now we were unrestrained, we could have a little fun again, and not being afraid to expose our asses. The arrangements still came together like they always did before, and I realized how much Bobby and I had to do with making it all work. We had to figure it out ourselves, and John was great and learned real fast and really helped us. And it got to be real natural again. It was a lot like the old days, but different."

Millions of dollars and big and big salaries were riding on Stewart's ability to musically fit in and help perpetuate the Kingston Trio sound on record. The Trio was big business to Capitol Records, according for roughly 20% of the label's gross profit at that time.

"There was a lot of pressure coming from Capitol as to whether the golden goose was going to still lay the golden egg," recalls Stewart. "When we went into the studio to do "Close Up", all these execs were in the control booth with Voyle Gilmore. We did 'Jessie James,' and they all smiled, shook hands and left."

Capitol had good reason to smile. "Close Up," the Trio's first album with Stewart, is as refreshing and musically stimulating as "At Large" was to the group's Dave Guard era. This is a different Trio entirely -- more relaxed, more spontaneous, more "into it" than ever.

If "Close Up" legitimized Stewart musically to trio fans, "College Concert" did the same for his acceptance as a personality within the group. The live tracks for the album were recorded December 6-7, 1961, in the Grand Ballroom of the Student Union at UCLA. Like Guard before him, Stewart confidently emerges as the Trio's main funnyman. Unlike Guard, however, whose material was more satirical in the Lou Gottleib vein, Stewart's humor ran closer to the Bob Newhart school of self-depreciating comedy, with a touch of sophomoric craziness added to it. The collage audience, their most enthusiastic cadre of fans, loved it.

The Trio's next album, "Something Special," was an interesting departure from the usual guitar & banjo instrumental format, with overdubbed string and bass arrangements by Jimmy Haskell. This album also marked the introduction of Bassist Dean Reilly, an accomplished jazz musician and former house bandleader at the Hungry "i".

If one wishes to isolate the best of the "Stewart Trio" recordings, three are particularly worthy of study: "New Frontier," "#16" and "Time To Think."

"Best album we ever did," says Stewart of "New Frontier" released in November 1962. "Worked our buns off on it; brought Jerry Walters of the Gateway Singers in to help construct some of the harmonies, and just having his presence there made us more disciplined and added greatly to the sound of that album. With "New Frontier," we really got a feeling for what the studio was, what it could do for the music. 'Honey, Are You Mad At Your Man,' with that one-note banjo drone running through it was Fleetwood Mac-ish, which was something we never could've done live, you needed that studio echo to give it mystery. And the overdubbing on 'New Frontier,' and the melody of 'Adios, Farewell,' wow -- the power of that album was the studio, because of echo and mood you could create. It was a lot different from singing 'Hard, Ain't It Hard' and 'Oh, Miss Mary' in concert."

The album "#16," released six months later, was likewise a studio-intensive recording, with intricate vocal and instrumental overdubbing. Prior to "#16," the Trio had done virtually all of their own instrumental work, with the exception of bass. For this album, Glen Campbell was recruited to play six-string banjo on "The Reverend Mr. Black," the first of many Trio tunes Campbell would augment over the next couple of years. There is also some very fine acoustic guitar work on "Run the Ridges," overdubbed by Stewart.

It is not surprising that two of the Trio's biggest singles surfaced from "New Frontier" and "#16," "Greenback Dollar" and "The Reverend Mr. Black," respectively. A minor hit, "Desert Pete," was culled from "Sunny Side," but the Trio never again realized top 40 success on the magnitude of a "Greenback Dollar." The reason, most likely, was the growing social awareness of the country, and the ability of other folk groups and performers to articulate it.

Using the musical stage that the Kingston Trio had built, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez,Peter, Paul & Mary, and scores of other "protest" singers were becoming politically relevant, siphoning off the Trio's record buying audience in the process. And although the Trio had recorded such protest anthems as "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?" and "Blowing in the Wind" (as well as Stewart's own "Road To Freedom"), the Trio in the simmer of 1963 was in no way aligned to the protest movement. They had always reflected the happier, more optimistic side of America; "New Frontier," in fact, was a celebration of JFK's challenge of national greatness both in space and around the world, with the Trio dedicating the album to the Peace Corps volunteers. For the Trio to have jumped on the protest bandwagon would have been a betrayal to the group's instincts, although Stewart privately longed for it. By the fall of 1963, however, the group had philosophically reconciled itself to the need to put more social relevance into their music. It was to be done, however, on their own terms, through a series of introspective songs that best expressed their individual and group sensitivities. The album was to be titled "Time To Think.

"We were rehearsing the songs for the album over at my house when we heard that Kennedy had been shot," recalls Nick Reynolds. "We were devastated; it just shook us to the core." The effect of Kennedy's death on the recording of "Time To Think" was profound; you can hear the ache on every track, especially on Stewart's "Song For A Friend," written on the day of the assassination and recorded two days later. John had felt especially close to the Kennedy ideal and spirit, and had, in fact, met with JFK the year before to present him a copy of "New Frontier." "How's 'Greenback Dollar' doing John?" the President had asked smilingly. "How would you have ever hear that, Mr. President?" was all that Stewart could reply. "Oh, I heard it on the way to work," Kennedy quipped back.

As a document of their art, proof of what tremendous emotional and musical forces could be marshaled by the Trio when it was motivated; "Time To Think" is unquestionably their finest effort. From Bobby Shane's magnificent interpretation of "Patriot Game," to Nick Reynolds poignant "Hobo's Lullaby," to Stewart's snarling "If you don't Look Around," this album did indeed give its audience plenty to think about.

"Time To Think" proved to be the last studio album recorded for Capitol, with a final "live" album taped in March, 1964 at the Hungry "I" in San Francisco. Later that same year, the group moved to another label.

In their seven years on Capitol, the Kingston Trio had done much in establishing the label as a major company, and to this day several of the Trio's gold records still hang in the Capitol Tower lobby, out of what one would hope is appreciation.

The Shane / Reynolds / Stewart Trio's farewell performance on June 17, 1967, was held where it all began, at the Hungry "i" in San Francisco.

After a short period of designing and building racing cars, Nick Reynolds moved to Oregon where he lived for 17 years as a rancher, theater owner and antique dealer. He would rejoin the Trio in the mid-80's

Dave Guard would continue to write, play and teach music, as well as author several books on mythology and guitar instruction. He passed away in March of 1991 after a long battle with lymphatic cancer. Among the mourners at his memorial service in Portsmouth New Hampshire was Bobby Shane.

John Stewart went on to pursue a career as both a songwriter and recording artist, writing "Daydream Believer" for the Monkees as well as recording more than 15 solo albums. In 1979, Stewart scored a Number One hit, "Gold," and he continues to tour extensively.

In reminiscing about his years with the Trio, John Stewart says, "T think of all the concerts and performances, and the biggest thrill was playing at the White House for Lyndon Johnson. Here it was, the height of the Viet Nam War, and we're playing on the White House lawn with Johnson sitting there, and we did 'Where Have All the Flowers Gone.' To be able to do that was one of the greatest, most meaningful experiences of my life."

Had it not been for Bobby Shane, the Kingston Trio would simply have receded into musical history. When the decision was made to disband the Trio in 1967, Shane was the only member opposed to it. "I was kind of angry that the group broke up," he says, "because I felt we were finally in a position to make some improvements. It takes years to really feel confident, to get to the point where everything works together to make it better."

After a short period as a solo artist, and leader of several acoustic folk groups, Shane reformed The Kingston Trio in 1972 with George Grove and Roger Gambill. Following Gambill's untimely death, Nick Reynolds rejoined the group in 1987. At the time Reynolds said, "Bobby and I are brothers, and I missed the camaraderie and fun of singing with him. That's what The Kingston Trio has always meant to me -- the magical music that's made as a result of it. You hear that magic -- what we used to call 'the X-factor' -- with Bobby and George Grove, and I'm honored they asked me to be a part of it again."

Today, The Kingston Trio group is again a major concert attraction, playing to sold-out audiences around the world.

Throughout it all, Bob Shane's whisky baritone still weaves that familiar Kingston Trio vocal sound. Shane's voice is deeper, more emotive now, a function of both time and experience, though it's tough to imagine an improvement of a voice Frank Sinatra once acknowledged as being so distinctive that even he wouldn't try to cover "Scotch and Soda."

"I think we're a much better musical act, and better musically in some ways," says Shane. "I think it's been a proper evolution. There is a demand for our type of acoustic music, and not just from those people who remember The Kingston Trio. With more story songs, I think we could attract listeners even among very young children. The music is timeless."

Indeed it is, Bobby.

-- Bill Bush
Seminole, Florida - April, 1995
Bill Bush is a music journalist whose writings have appeared in the likes of "Guitar Player," "Frets" and "Artists Of American Folk Music."

The Kingston Trio: The Capitol Years (Capitol CDP 7243 8 28498 2 7)
The Kingston Trio
by Bill Bush (© 1995) - (Mr. Bush is a music journalist whose writings have appeared in the likes of "Guitar Player," "Frets" and "Artists Of American Folk Music.")