The Flying Burrito Bros
Tuesday, July 8th, 2008
You won’t find many bigger Gram Parsons’ fans than me. Well, I’m sure there are some true “fanatics” out there who are even more pathologically obsessive (and excessive) than I am. But, I’m up there pretty close to the top myself. Both his solo albums are in my Top 10 All-Time Albums. I have a cherished, framed, original poster from his run of shows at Liberty Hall in Houston with Emmylou and the Fallen Angel band in 1973. I’ve got a fair amount of bootlegs, vinyl, CD and CDR. I even compiled my own bootleg, The Genuine Early Years, with some material that I’ve never seen anywhere else. The first Flying Burrito Bros album, 1969’s The Gilded Palace Of Sin, is also in my Top 10. Gram only made two albums with The Flying Burrito Bros, The Gilded Palace Of Sin and Burrito Deluxe. Burrito Deluxe was a disappointment to everyone, partly because Gram had apparently lost interest in the band (and maybe music in general). He was fired from the band shortly after that release. And therein lies the first problem with the legacy of the Burritos. Many people tend to (unjustifiably) write off anything the Burrito’s did after Gram left. The two albums he made with them, along with a handful of outtakes, have been repackaged over and over and over. I mean we’re only talking about two albums here folks. The trend began with the vinyl issue of Close Up The Honky Tonks in 1974. At the time this was an excellent idea, collecting some of the best tracks from the original two albums, a couple of stray 45s and a bunch of unreleased outtakes. But the labels have continued to repackage and rerelease this same material ad naseum since them. The very first CD I ever bought was the 1988 compilation called Farther Along: The Best Of The Flying Burrito Brothers. There’s a 1997 single disc that combines the entire two albums. There’s a 2000 release on A&M called Hot Burritos! Anthology 1969-1972. I have a 2002 release on A&M Chronicles titled Sin City: The Very Best Of The Flying Burrito Bros. The exact same CD was released a few years later with the same cover, same songs, same booklet, same everything, just renamed The Definitive Collection. And don’t even get me started on the European anthologies and compilations. There’s another good half a dozen, all with the exact same material. As you may have guessed by now the labels keep putting these out because idiots like me keep buying them even though there’s absolutely nothing new. Enough already.
In addition to being a huge Gram Parsons fan and admirer I’m also very, very fond of Chris Hillman. In many ways, Hillman’s influences on the “country rock” scene of the sixties even outweigh Gram’s. Gram gets all the credit (and I do mean all the credit), but you could make a strong case that without Hillman a lot of the music that is credited to Gram might never have happened. Additionally, Hillman was a founding member of the Byrds, one of the most influential bands in American pop/rock history. And, he’s gone on another 30+ years after Gram died to continue to make outstanding music. The Chris Hillman catalog is far, far wider, deeper and more impressive than what Gram left behind. It really pissed me off to see the new reissue of the Flying Burrito Bros live in San Francisco in 1969 issued as “Gram Parsons with The Flying Burrito Bros.” Completely disrespectful to the rest of the band and especially Hillman. Hillman was as much responsible for The Burrito Bros as Gram.
After Gram was fired Hillman decided to keep the band alive. The third Burrito’s album was released in June 1971, simply titled The Flying Burrito Bros. It’s an album that, even though it sold better than Burrito Deluxe, has never gotten the credit and respect it deserves. A new, young upstart by the name of Rick Roberts was brought on board. I’d hate to say he was brought on to “replace” Gram Parsons, because that really wasn’t possible. But Hillman needed another voice in the group and Roberts fit the bill. He ended up being quite an integral part of the album, writing three of the ten songs and co-writing four more (with Hillman). In fact, Bernie Leadon left the band after this album, supposedly because he felt his songs and vocal contributions were being pushed aside in favor of Roberts. Still, you can’t feel to bad for Leadon. He did, of course, go on to be one of the co-founders of The Eagles.
The album kicks off with a very soulful, very country version of Merle Haggard’s “White Line Fever.” It’s clear from the get go that things have taken a bit of a turn here. Roberts’ songs “Colorado” (later covered by Linda Ronstadt), “Four Days Of Rain” and “Why Are You Crying” are highlights. The four Hillman/Roberts songs are all very good. Also along for the ride is a nice cover of Dylan’s “To Ramona” and Gene Clark’s “Tried So Hard.” This is more “folk/singer-songwriter/country” than the “cosmic/country” of The Gilded Palace Of Sin. The album is nicely produced by Jim Dickson (who helped launch the Byrds and worked with numerous other LA sixties groups). It certainly isn’t the groundbreaking album that The Gilded Palace Of Sin was, but in it’s own way it more than holds its own against Burrito Deluxe.
The Flying Burrito Bros didn’t help the band reach any bigger audience than the two previous albums had. It managed to chart on the Billboard Top 200, which was something the second album had not done. Hillman soldiered on for another album, 1972’s Last Of The Red Hot Burritos, a bluegrass leaning live album with yet another lineup, before deciding to throw in the towel and join up with Stephen Stills in Manassas. Roberts made two fine albums for A&M (one of which Hillman produced) before striking it rich with Firefall. Raven Records, the superb reissue label out of Australia, has done us all a huge favor and packaged these two albums together on one disc. They’ve added a couple of bonus tracks (nothing new, but still nice to have here) and included some very nice liner notes. It’s nice to have both of these albums on one CD. It’s not the first time The Flying Burrito Bros has been available on CD: it was included in its entirety in the above mentioned two disc Hot Burritos! anthology (which is still available) and also released by Mobile Fidelity in 1991 (now out of print). Still, for us collectors, it’s nice to see these albums getting some attention rather than another repackaging of the first two.
Oh, the second problem with legacy of the Burritos is that an never ending parade of impostors has carried on the name, off and on, for almost forty years now! It’s a shame and an embarrassment. The name should have been retired with respect after Hillman closed things down in 1972.
Other Listens on July 8th:
Live At Leeds (Deluxe Edition) by The Who
Pat Garrett & Billy The Kid by Bob Dylan
Hot August Night by Neil Diamond
Striking It Rich by Dan Hicks And His Hot Licks
I spent my teenage years in Lancaster, California, a small town in the desert about an hour north of Los Angeles. I had lived there for many years when I was younger, before we moved to Ohio for about four or five years and then back to Lancaster when I was thirteen. We could get the Los Angeles FM radio stations, so this is where I was usually exposed to new music. And we got the Los Angeles Times newspaper. The music critic was a guy named Robert Hilburn. I think he stayed in that post until 2005, writing for the paper for almost 40 years. I would read his columns and reviews in the 70s almost religiously. He seemed to have very similar tastes to me so I was often encouraged to seek out and buy albums that he recommended. In 1974 that included three artists new to me: Waylon Jennings, Billy Joe Shaver and Michael Dinner. Waylon had recently released his breakthrough album Honky Tonk Heroes. Billy Joe Shaver, who wrote all but one of the songs on Honky Tonk Heroes had just released his first solo album, Old Five And Dimers Like Me. Shortly after that Michael Dinner released his first album, The Great Pretender. It was a long time ago so I am a little fuzzy on the details but I think I remember Hilburn had suggested that Jennings should record some of Dinner’s songs. (That never happened.) Regardless, Hilburn had great things to say about all three albums so it wasn’t long before I picked them all up. All three are still big time favorites.
I could be wrong, but I think the first “double album” of the rock era (and maybe of all time) was Bob Dylan’s Blonde On Blonde, released in May 1966. Since then, for every great two album set there have been three or four that should have been single albums. For whatever reason (ego, marketing, greed, etc.), the past forty years have seen way too many albums stretched from one disc to two. Given the choice, I’d rather have one disc of great material than two discs that also include lots of second rate, filler material. Sadly, such is the case here. But back to Bob Dylan for just a minute. Consider the fact that Dylan recorded and released three albums (four discs) in eighteen months. And not just any three albums. Bringing It All Back Home was recorded in January 1965 and released in March; Highway 61 Revisited was recorded in June, July and August 1965 and released in August; Blonde On Blonde was recorded in January, February and March 1966 and released in May. Two of these three albums are often found in all time Top 10 lists and Brining It All Back Home is usually not too far behind. Four discs of unbelievable, groundbreaking material in less than 18 months! I think it’s safe to say the world hasn’t seen a burst of musical creativity like that since. These days most major artists wait two to four years to put out one new album.
I never got into Poco. Which is very, very strange, as on paper they are a perfect group for me. I’m a huge fan of Buffalo Springfield, The Eagles, The Flying Burrito Brothers, CSNY, The Byrds, Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris, Gram Parsons… well, you get the picture. I really l like the two Souther, Hillman, Furay albums released in the mid 70s. But, Poco, they just never did it for me. I tried. I picked up an album now and then, gave it some listens, nothing. I bought a double CD best of package titled The Forgotten Trail (1969-74) when it was issued on CD in 1990. I figured, OK, here’s two discs of nothing but the best stuff, this should get me going. Nothing. 
