(Credits: Far Out / Alamy)
Mon 23 March 2026 3:00, UK
Aside from a few notable exceptions, a band member ‘going solo’ has been the cause of countless failed careers, reality TV appearances, and forgettable records throughout music history. With one visionary masterpiece, though, former Love member Arthur Lee made sure that he didn’t fall into the same alluring trap.
A band is like an ecosystem, whereby even the most seemingly insignificant members nevertheless play a vital role. Changing the line-up of any group inevitably changes their inherent sound, and that is a fact that has been proven repeatedly throughout the history of rock and roll – the loss of Brian Jones forever changed the sound of The Rolling Stones, the heart of The Clash was torn out with the dismissal of Topper Headon and Mick Jones, and Kim Deal’s departure from Pixies exemplified just how essential her contributions to the group were.
On the other side of that argument, then, when a band member splinters off to go solo, it very rarely recaptures the same distinctive spirit of their band’s output. Everybody from Blondie’s Debbie Harry to Oasis’ Gallagher brothers has attempted solo careers at one point or another, and they very rarely pan out. Admittedly, though, few musicians have the songwriting power of Arthur Lee within their arsenal.
From the very beginning of Love, the psychedelic pioneers were led by Lee, and it was his songwriting which essentially formed the backbone of Love’s output. Even still, the contributions of Bryan MacLean, Ken Forssi and Johnny Echols were utterly essential in carving out the inherent, psychedelic sound of Love.
Arguably, then, when Lee gutted the band and started afresh, with an entirely new line-up in the wake of 1967’s Forever Changes, Love essentially became a solo project, but one with an incredibly high bar to match. Subsequent records certainly had their merits, but they never truly recaptured the psychedelic genius of those early efforts.
At the turn of the 1970s, then, it appeared as though Lee had lost his mojo and might join the ever-expanding ranks of artists whose hubris had failed them. That was, of course, until he landed upon what might just be his ultimate masterpiece, ‘Everybody’s Gotta Live’.
Released as a single in 1972, Lee’s emotive existentialism became the crowning jewel of his fittingly titled inaugural solo album, Vindicator. Allowing the songwriter to embark upon something outside the realm of Love, the album formed an essential moment in Lee’s discography, and it certainly reaffirmed his incredible skill as a writer, without having to rely on the clout built up by counterculture-era Love.
Eventually, ‘Everybody’s Gotta Live’ did appear on a Love album – 1974’s Reel to Reel – but, once again, Lee preempted that record by sacking everyone in the band and hiring a cast of session musicians. Unsurprisingly, it ended up being Love’s final album before Lee put the name to bed in 1975. Even still, it is Lee’s original version that remains the definitive recording.
You can almost hear the newfound freedom within the recording, as the songwriter lets go and delivers one of his most visceral, driven vocal performances from throughout his career. It might not have been quite as successful as some of the golden-age Love recordings, but it was still the song that proved to Arthur Lee that he didn’t necessarily need to hide behind the Love name to continue with his songwriting mastery.
