In which Gram Parsons discovers country music and gives it a
dry run before offering it up to the Byrds. As a songwriter, he’s got
something, though at this point it’s still more promise than materialization.
As a singer, he’s holding back, not quite sure how far to take this game.
Brevity pays off—at just under a half-hour, it would be pretty tough to
overstay its welcome, and it’s not unwelcomed to begin with. It might all peak
with “Blue Eyes” at track one, but the “Folsom Prison Blues/That’s All Right”
medley is my secret key to the entire Parsons project: instead of wanting to be
Johnny Cash or Elvis specifically, he just wanted to iconic, period. Probably
could just as well have been Sinatra and the the New Soft Bobby-Sox, so all
things considered, lucky how the pieces fell here. I’d hate to think of the
Byrds gone Rat Pack.
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