The term super-group gets bandied about pretty frequently. In part that seems due to the fact that at this point there are so many bloody musicians kicking about that figuring a line up with folks snagged from sundry better known groups doesn’t present a problem.

Back in the sixties it seems that the process was begun, if nothing else than for marketing. That being said, there were so many skilled players kicking around studios out west who didn’t sport live performance ties to anyone in particular saying someone played on a Beach Boys’ disc and a Monkees’ single probably helped a bit.

Whatever the case – even as it exists today – country rock groups seemed to have been the focus of this particular practice. Everyone from the Bay’s Charlatans to the countless Los Angeles based groups. And it’s in this latter group that Blue Mountain Eagle (BME) springs.

With ties to various Buffalo Springfield line-ups, BME attracted attention from Atlantic Records, who figured that the late sixties’ boom in country rock would continue unabated. That wasn’t necessarily the worst reasoning to follow – Dylan’s final albums from the period flirt with the sound as does Neil Young’s catalog. And while the Burrito Brothers didn’t impact the charts, its music became rather important. So, perhaps it was the concerted push to popularize this sort of music that doomed BME and not its lack of talent.

On its one long player, dating to 1970, BME does sound like an extension of CSN and sometimes Y. But there’s a bit of individuality going on here – it’s not all copped attitude, despite inclusion of Stephen Stills’ “Marriane.” Granted efforts such as “Feel Like a Theif” don’t do too much to advance the music. And really, the vocal delivery is just short of ridiculous. Yeah, sometimes the formula doesn’t work. Even with that familiar guitar line added in as well as some passable harmonies, there’s not too much reason for celebration at about a quarter through the disc.

What winds up doing the album in – and by extension the band – are some of those misplaced harmonies. That being said, “No Regrets” works better than most CSN tracks. There’s not a hint of fey delivery. And even if the song was focused on something of a tough guy stance, the entire composition would still have worked.

Even as those assorted success spring up here and there, the album’s not too much more than an assemblage of average tracks making it a necessity for obsessive types only.