After the stupefyingly lackluster late-70s solo LPs, Hillman
spent the first half of the 80s regrouping with some low-key albums of
laid-back country ditties, mostly covers. Desert
Rose has the casual feel of a hootenanny among friends, with longtime Hillman
associates like Herb Petersen, Bernie Leadon, Al Perkins, et al., all having a
good time dishing out solid background music. Nothing memorable here, but it’s
all likable enough, and a dry run for the more polished pop-country of
Hillman’s Desert Rose Band—which took not only the name, but also a spruced-up
“Ashes of Love” rendition, from this. As questionable as the Nashville gloss
would be in many cases, the fact is, Desert
Rose shows how complacent Hillman had gotten, so the new band would also
constitute something of a kick in the ass after his many years in the doldrums,
of which this represents the end.
My $5 copy from Amoeba in Los Angeles is autographed; I have
a hard time imagining anyone faking a Chris Hillman auto, so I’m going to
assume it’s legit.
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