I have a bad habit of assuming that everyone is as steeped in nostalgic pop culture as I am, but alas not everyone was raised at the foot of an always-on massive wood panel television. For this week’s article, I can recite the story behind the artist backwards and forwards, thanks to a steady diet of weekend VH1 that frequently featured one or more of their documentary slash concert films. It didn’t hurt that one of the treasured and immaculate pieces of vinyl in our house was perhaps their most notorious album.

Of course, I am referring to Lynyrd Skynyrd, purveyors of Jacksonville, Florida’s finest flavor of southern rock. For those unfamiliar with their history, let me give you a brief rundown.
In 1964, teenagers Ronnie Van Zant (vocals), Allen Collins (guitar), Gary Rossington (guitar), Larry Junstrom (bass), and Bob Burns (drums) met while playing baseball. Realizing that they all had similar interests in music, they decided to form a band. They cycled through several names in the next few years (My Backyard, Conquer the Worm, the Noble Five) before settling on The One Percent by 1968.
The next year, Van Zant had grown tired of derision from audiences that the band had “one percent talent”, so they shifted to a backhanded tribute to a former high school teacher of theirs, Leonard Skinner. In 1970, Bob Burns permanently shifted the spelling to the more marketable “Lynyrd Skynyrd”. (It also avoided a “which one of you is Pink?” moment.)
By 1972, after making a name for themselves around North Florida and the wider southeastern United States, they attracted the attention of Al Kooper from Blood, Sweat, and Tears. He had a vanity imprint with MCA Records, and signed the bandto their first record deal. By this time, Junstrom had left to be replaced by Leon Wilkeson, while Billy Powell was added as a dedicated keyboardist. During the initial studio sessions, Wilkeson experienced a crisis of confidence and left the band. He was temporarily replaced by Ed King, guitarist for the Strawberry Alarm Clock and quite an able bassist. Shortly after the end of the sessions, Wilkeson rejoined, but the band decided to keep King on as a third guitarist.
Their debut album (Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd) was a smash hit right out of the gate upon its release in August 1973. Kooper was able to convince his friend Pete Townshend to take Skynyrd along as the Who’s opening act for their Quadrophenia tour, and national exposure only increased Skynyrd’s popularity. They quickly recorded a followup, cheekily titled Second Helping, that was released in April 1974.
Critical response for their debut album was strong, but their sophomore effort encountered some contemporary pushback. The inevitable comparisons to the Allman Brothers (guitar-based blues-rockers from the south) were not always flattering, with one reviewer singling out Skynyrd for a lack of “sophistication and professionalism” in their music. In retrospect, Second Helping is almost certainly the band’s strongest studio album, with each side opening with what would become signature tracks in “Sweet Home Alabama” and “The Ballad of Curtis Loew”.
After the first two albums, Bob Burns left the band in the middle of their European promotional tour, to be replaced by Artimus Pyle. Their third album Nuthin’ Fancy in March of 1975 was their last with Kooper at the helm of production; he became disenchanted by the band’s growing substance use and their lack of preparation for recording. It also did not fare as well in terms of sales, without a standout single like “Free Bird” or “Sweet Home Alabama”.
Once again, the tour afterwards led to a lineup change as Ed King departed due to a personality conflict with Van Zant. King thought that he was disrespected when Van Zant called him out after a show in which he played poorly, while King attributed his lack of performance to the fact that Van Zant and King’s guitar technician had spent the previous night in jail after a drunken brawl. The band became well-known for their predilections for both substance abuse and fighting, leading to a number of legal issues and safety concerns. Both Rossington and Collins were involved in car accidents while under the influence in 1976, causing the band to miss concerts and delaying work on their next album.
It took the band several months to find a suitable replacement for King on guitar; in the meantime they consolidated guitar duties between Rossington and Collins. They also brought in three female vocalists on a permanent basis for live performances. Dubbed the Honkettes, the lineup consisted of JoJo Billingsley, Cassie Gaines, and Leslie Hawkins. It was this configuration that recorded February 1976’s Gimme Back My Bullets. The album had a harder edge to it than previous outings, perhaps reflecting the harder lifestyle of the band at the time.
Eventually, Skynyrd enlisted the help of Cassie’s younger brother Steve Gaines as their new third guitarist. Steve was also a talented singer in addition to his instrumental prowess, and impressed Van Zant to the point that he sang lead or co-lead on some songs. In July of 1976, the band recorded three concerts at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta, Georgia with this lineup, compiling the best tracks into their first live album One More From The Road.
I am usually a proponent of studio albums first and foremost. The hours and days of preparation typically result in a stronger finished product than live albums. With Lynyrd Skynyrd, that is decidedly not the case. If you have the time to listen to only one Skynyrd album, this is the one. It’s their peak performance. Playing in front of an extremely enthusiastic crowd, the band runs through their best songs in their best versions. Years of playing early material had refined and honed the compositions into an altogether stronger work. The inclusion of Steve Gaines served to rejuvenate the band, and it was obvious that they were poised to do great things. (Cue ominous music.)
On October 17, 1977, the band released Street Survivors. (My father was first in line at his local record store.) The album cover featured the band members engulfed in flames on a deserted city street, with Steve Gaines prominently positioned in the middle beside Van Zant. Gaines sang lead on “Ain’t No Good Life”, and co-lead on “You Got That Right”, while he was sole composer of “I Know a Little”. Two days prior to the release, Lynyrd Skynyrd began their biggest tour to date, going nationwide as headliners.
Just three days after the album’s release, a Convair CV-240 plane taking the band from South Carolina to Louisiana for a show crashed near Gillsburg, Mississippi due to pilot error in maintaining fuel levels. Everyone on board suffered injuries, but six lives were lost. Pilot Walter McCreary, co-pilot John Gray, assistant road manager Dean Kilpatrick, singer Cassie Gaines, guitarist Steve Gaines, and lead vocalist Ronnie Van Zant were killed in the accident.
The band fell apart due to the tragedy. Without Van Zant, there was no way they could continue, and several members were physically unable to play their instruments for years afterward. The surviving members reunited just once in 1979 for an instrumental version of “Free Bird” at Charlie Daniel’s Volunteer Jam; Wilkeson was still undergoing physical therapy at the time and could not perform.
The next few years were filed with more tragedy and loss. Rossington and Collins formed a band, but then broke up over a dispute about their romantic intentions toward their lead singer Dale Krantz. Collins’s wife died of complications from pregnancy in 1980, and he descended into extensive substance abuse. While intoxicated, he was paralyzed in a car accident in 1986 that killed his then-girlfriend. To avoid jail time for manslaughter, he was compelled to give public service announcements about his drug abuse and the impact it had on his life.
After Collins’ accident, the four surviving members of Lynyrd Skynyrd (Rossington, Collins, Powell, and Wilkeson) in conjunction with Ed King decided to reform the band for a concert tour to pay tribute to their fallen bandmates. The fact that the band members were all in dire financial straits and that they were well aware their marketplace impact was severely diminished without the Skynyrd name had at least something to do with their decision. The families of the deceased signed off on the use of the name, and the tour began in 1987. The band members agreed that no one could ever replace Ronnie Van Zant, but his brother Johnny could do the best job to fill his shoes for the tour. (His other brother Donnie had commitments with his band, .38 Special.) Collins was unable to play due to his paralysis and his status as a wheelchair user, but traveled with the band as musical director. He also used the opportunity to knock off dates for his public speaking community service. In his place, Randall Hall from the Rossington Collins Band played guitar. Carol Bristow and Dale Krantz (now Dale Krantz-Rossington) served as backup singers.
The tribute tour was captured on the live album Southern by the Grace of God. It’s not good. What’s worse is that at the end of the tour, the members decided to continue performing as Lynyrd Skynyrd without consulting either Judy Van Zant Jenness (widow of Ronnie Van Zant) or Teresa Gaines Rapp (widow of Steve Gaines). As a result, Jenness and Rapp sued the other five people and won. The verdict was that the band had to remit thirty percent of their revenues to the widows, and the band could only continue if both Rossington and any two of the other four survivors were participating.
Thus began one of the most shameful musical endeavors in recent memory. The “reunited” lineup is a zombie band in the worst way. It’s artistically bereft, soulless, and disrespectful to the memories of Gaines and Van Zant. It’s a naked cash grab. Matters took a turn for the worse when Collins died in 1990 after complications from his paralysis. Pyle and then King left the band in 1991 and 1996 respectively. In 2001, bassist Leon Wilkeson died as a result of chronic liver disease, leaving Lynyrd Skynyrd with only Powell and Rossington of the classic lineup. Rapp and Jenness consented to letting the band continue, and adjusted the revenue split accordingly. Powell died in 2009 of a heart attack, leaving Rossington as the sole original member.
In March of 2023, Gary Rossington passed away, the last vestige of the classic lineup. The current makeup of the band is frankly embarrassing. Despite all of the legal wranglings, the purported Lynyrd Skynyrd stated they intend to keep touring and recording. They are currently on no less than their fourth “farewell” tour.
Rather than focus on what they’ve become, let’s focus our energies on what a juggernaut of Southern rock Lynyrd Skynyrd was in their prime. I’ve selected what I believe to be the thirteen best tracks from their discography. There are no tracks from the bastardized reunited band for obvious reasons, so the entire selection is from the five years that the original lineup was recording. These are my choices and my choices alone, so be sure to direct all of your opprobrium to me, either in the comments or via social media. Starting with number thirteen…
13. What’s Your Name
This song depicts a true story; while recording Street Survivors in Miami, the band really did get kicked out of a bar because their road crew got into a fight. Rossington and Van Zant put this song together shortly thereafter. The original lyrics didn’t specify a place, but Van Zant changed a line to reference Boise because .38 Special (his brother’s band) was set to open their tour in the city. That makes this the highest ever charting song to reference the state of Idaho.
12. Gimme Three Steps
Yet another true story about a bar fight in the Skynyrd catalogue, “Gimme Three Steps” took place in Jacksonville at the Little Brown Jug. Rossington, Van Zant, and Collins went to the bar when they were still under eighteen; Van Zant was able to go in because he had a fake ID. While in the Jug, he danced with a woman who had a boyfriend, and eventually words were exchanged. In the parking lot, Van Zant thought he was going to be shot by the jealous boyfriend and exercised discretion as the better part of valor. The three bandmates wrote this song that night.
11. I Know a Little
“I Know a Little” is the work of Steve Gaines, who both composed the music and wrote the lyrics for the song. Steve was a gifted musician altogether, bringing a combination of guitar playing, composition, and even singing. His time with his own bands Manalive and Crawdad were perhaps purer exhibitions of his skill, but alas fate robbed us of where his talent would ultimately take him. At least we have songs like this that show us what he could do.
10. Saturday Night Special
I usually resist the urge to get overtly political in these newsletters, but I can’t help myself here. Despite the overwhelming popularity of Skynyrd with the conservative crowd, “Saturday Night Special” is a stridently anti-firearm song. Specifically, it’s against irresponsible gun ownership and the use of weapons in the commission of crimes. Van Zant is even on record that he believed "we should sink them all to the bottom of the sea" in reference to firearms. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
9. The Needle and the Spoon
Speaking of pipes, how about a song concerning the dangers of heroin abuse? Think of it as a companion to the Neil Young song “The Needle and the Damage Done” released two years earlier. More will be written here later about the symbiotic relationship between Young and Skynyrd (spoilers!), but there’s a melancholic yet aggressive edge to this song that may well have similar roots to Young’s song. Of note is the wah-wah guitar solo from Allen Collins, injecting a little bit of psychedelia into the proceedings.
8. Call Me the Breeze
Composer J.J. Cale is also responsible for several other songs bets known for their covers: Eric Clapton’s “Cocaine” and “After Midnight”, plus Widespread Panic’s “Travelin’ Light”. Cale was a giant figure in Oklahoma music, specifically the Tulsa area, alongside Elvin Bishop and Leon Russell. Hey, didn’t I write an article about him? I did!
A Song For You
Cale was not overly concerned with fame on his own, but was largely content to see his songs performed by bigger artists. To quote the man himself,
"I knew if I became too well known, my life would change drastically. On the other hand, getting some money doesn't change things too much, except you no longer have to go to work."
7. That Smell
In the microgenre that is “calling out your fellow band members”, “That Smell” has got to be in the hall of fame. Ronnie Van Zant wrote the song after Gary Rossington wrecked his car while drunk, causing much embarrassment to all involved. By his own admission, Van Zant was using substances as much as any of the band members, but the irony was not lost on him. The line “but tomorrow might not be here for you” was tragically prophetic, seeing as three days after the release of Street Survivors, three members of the band were no longer with us.
6. Tuesday’s Gone
My favorite Skynyrd album is One More From the Road, and it’s not close. On the original studio release, “Tuesday’s Gone” is mild and almost pedestrian. It’s heartfelt, but perhaps the heart is misplaced. But on the live version, the song comes alive with a majestic rise and fall. The live version is infinitely preferable to me, and I believe it inspired one of the few Metallica songs I like. Joined by a host of guests (including Gary Rossington), here’s their version from Garage, Inc.
5. Sweet Home Alabama
When Neil Young released “Southern Man” and “Alabama”, the members of Skynyrd took some offense to his broad stereotyping of southern culture. (In more recent years, Young has admitted he did not represent his position well, and he regrets his lyrics.) It’s here that the story diverges based on who you believe. Van Zant was vociferous in his dislike of George C. Wallace’s policies, especially in regards to civil rights. As a result, he crafted lyrics that were sardonic and sarcastic about both northern and southern politicians. Co-writer Ed King, though, doubled down in recent years that he believed Wallace was a good representative for the common southerner, and thus the lyrics to “Sweet Home Alabama” are a tribute. Would it be too grim to invoke the concept of “death of the author” here?
4. Gimme Back My Bullets
Arguably the most aggressive and menacing song in the entire Skynyrd catalogue, my feelings about this song are inextricably linked to my feelings on the Briscoe Brothers, Jay and Mark. They used this song as their entrance music on the independent wrestling circuit, including in Ring of Honor. The Briscoes, much like Skynyrd, were frequent users of Confederate imagery, to the point where it directly cost them sponsorships and job opportunities in conjunction with some of their other political viewpoints. Using Confederate imagery is wrong, no ifs ands or buts. However, people are allowed to learn and grow. I think the Briscoes did before Jay’s untimely passing. The surviving members of Skynyrd? Not so much. Anyway, here’s a tribute video:
3. Ballad of Curtis Loew
Not to break kayfabe too much for you, but there wasn’t actually an old blues man named Curtis Loew in the childhood of any of Skynyrd’s members. Instead, the character was a composite of half-remembered and archetypal figures throughout pop culture. Van Zant and Collins wrote the song with the goal of celebrating the forgotten musicians of yesteryear. The slide work in this song is among the best in the band’s repertoire. Interestingly enough, they only played the song live once pre-crash in a hotel basement somewhere. (Post-crash and post-revival, it’s a concert staple. Much like the rest of the revival, it doesn’t count.)
2. Simple Man
This might be my favorite bassline from Skynyrd. It’s an agile and dynamic thing, reminiscent of either the Allman Brothers’ Berry Oakley or even the Stax house band’s Duck Dunn. The guitar lines, though, separate it into something special. The tone from the rhythm guitar is nearly sludgy, shimmering in walls of sound. Gary Rossington’s solo is among his best work, reinforcing the melody while embellishing the overall sound. It wiggles inside and around the chordal accompaniment, creating space and keeping its own time. Take the time to listen to it closely and you will be rewarded.
1. Free Bird
Could it be anything else? I dare say that no song in modern rock and roll has had the impact on concert performances that “Free Bird” has. No matter what live rock show you’re at, the odds are pretty good that somebody will shout out “Free Bird” as a request or even a demand. It’s a completely and utterly atypical song to achieve such prominence. Even in its shortest form, it’s over four and a half minutes (the single edit). On the original album, it clocks in at a little over nine minutes. Live versions (like the one from One More From the Road) can run fifteen minutes or more. The song itself starts out with bird mimicry and a slow organ introduction, before moving into a series of passing vignettes: a mournful vocal verse, a piano interlude, interweaved guitar parts, and more. “Free Bird” builds into a tempo shift, an attitude adjustment, and a completely new perspective. Once the drums pick up and the tone changes, three guitars combine into a thing of true beauty. Hearing a good band (and I do not want to imply the current iteration of what is called Lynyrd Skynyrd is a good band at all) play the song has proven to be a near religious experience for many a southerner. I’m reminded of a Jeff Jarrett quote: "To a critic, no explanation will do. To a fan, no explanation is needed."
I hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s article. Depending on my schedule through the summer, I may stick to a biweekly posting regimen. I can probably be persuaded to keep up my regular weekly intervals if there’s enough outcry or support. (For those of you who wish I would post less, just know that my haters are, in fact, my motivators.) Either way, yell at me on social media or in the comments below. Join us next time.