When America's debut single, "Horse With No Name," stormed the airwaves in 1972, most listeners thought it was the latest Neil Young record. With it's insistently strummed acoustic guitars, yearning vocals, and enigmatic lyrics, "Horse With No Name" was a dead ringer for Young's Harvest-era folk rock. Sadly, by the time America released the flaccid "Daisy Jane" just four years later, no one was confusing the band with anything remotely hip.

In the interim, America defined themselves as the quintessential soft rock band, applying the trappings of hippie culture to conventional commercial pop. While wags will protest that "soft rock" is an oxymoron, I would argue that, at the very least, America left a trail of catchy, memorable singles in their admittedly shallow wake. At their best, America was capable of genuinely sophisticated, affecting compositions ("I Need You"), and on rare occasions, the band really caught fire ("Sister Golden Hair"). But mainly, they were just a lot of fluffy fun - which made them a paragon of "Me Decade" virtue.

America is, in many ways, the ideal paradigm of a 70's band. They looked like hippies, and they paid lip service to the hippie lifestyle, but they were a pop band through and through. Early on, America embraced the same stoned mix of ennui and earnestness, cynicism and sincerity, that made laid-back musicians like the Flying Burrito Brothers, Eagles, Little Feat, and - not coincidentally - Neil Young, the rock royalty of the decade. Unlike those bands, however, America quickly began chasing Top 40 airplay (perhaps stimulated by the overwhelming success of their debut), and their work careened swiftly towards the middle of the road. Tellingly, America's vocal harmonies and relentlessly straight-laced rhythms resembled Crosby Stills & Nash more than any of the aforementioned bands. Ultimately, America became the same sort of bathetic self-parody as that storied supergroup - minus the career longevity....

Before that happened, however, America sold a boatload of records. The three Americans met while attending high school in London, England, and formed the group in 1970. Two members, Dan Peek and Gerry Beckley, were actually American, and while the third, Dewey Bunnell, was born English, all three were U.S. Air Force brats. The young group quickly achieved success, signing to Warner Brothers and recording their self-titled debut album with veteran British producer Ian Samwell. Released in England near the end 1971, America and "Horse With No Name" became a sensation, and it followed suit when released in the United States early the next year.

America is an excellent acoustic rock record, really, lacking much of the unwelcome polish of the group's later releases. From the opening cut, "Riverside," the band sounds assured and relaxed, and performances songs like "Sandman" and "I Need You" indicated that they were no mere Neil Young rip-offs. America stands today as one of the band's few records worth purchasing on its own.

The non-LP b-side of "Horse With No Name" was called "Everyone I Meet Is From California," and the group soon made the predictable move to the Golden State. Their sun-baked, self-produced follow-up, Homecoming (1972), continued their winning streak both artistically and commercially, spawning several hits and capping a remarkable year that earned the group a Grammy for "Best New Artist."

But, Homecoming also was the first of a string of America albums named with words starting with the letter H. While the record is one of their best, this annoying habit proved predictive of the group's increasingly ham-handed stabs at cleverness and significance. Proceeding from Homecoming's evocative "Ventura Highway" to Hat Trick's silly "Muskrat Love" to Holiday's morose "Lonely People" to Hearts' awkward "Woman Tonight," America was in rapid decline. Despite collaborating with legendary Beatles producer George Martin on several albums, the patina of hip that marked America's early career rusted into a pedestrian stain.

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