A friend recently lent me a Rhino compilation
with "Sin City" by Gram Parsons on it. It's been
years since I heard it--I'd forgotten what a great
song it was.
I'm curious to know the background/meaning
of the lyrics. Anybody have any ideas (or, could
you point me in the direction of any reviews or
interpretations that might shed some light)?
Thanks much.
Michael
rw...@theNOSPAMgrid.net
Please give us a break, Michael. We're all a bit sad here 'cos we appear
to have lost our ng member Roger...
As far as 'Sin City' is concerned: apart from being my mother's
favourite song ever, it's sort of a Final Judgment mini opera, isn't it?
But I'll get back to you later on this theme - first we have to
celebrate the defeat of Milocevic!
--
Jan van Erp - Amsterdam (The Netherlands)
alle wegen kruisen elkaar
in Panta
all roads are crossings
http://people.A2000.nl/jverp/index.htm
(...but Karadzic and Mladic are still on the loose!)
G: How did you first meet Gram? Did you have any
sense that he was a doomed cult hero?
H: I didn't think he’d become a cult hero then.
It's hard to tab that on anyone who's walking
around. We're all good candidates to become cult
heroes when we die, even them without the
talent. The story of how I met Gram in a bank in
Beverly Hills is true. I'd heard of him already.
We had the same manager, Larry Spector, who also
managed Hugh Masakela and a couple of the
Monkees. He doesn't even rate his name in print
because he was a thief. I asked Gram down to
rehearse. We may have been looking for a
keyboardist and he played a bit of piano. He
came down and was fun. After the rehearsal he
broke into a Buck Owens song. He was the first
guy I'd run into since my bluegrass days that
knew that music. After getting to know him, I
saw an element of darkness about the poor guy.
G: What went into writing "Sin City"?
H: Gram and I were sharing a home in the San
Fernando Valley. We were both coming off bad
marriages and crying on each other's shoulders.
We worked in the mornings, believe it or not. We
didn't do all-night writing sessions. We were
pretty normal at that point. I got up and
started this idea, "This whole town’s filled
with sin, it will swallow you in, blah blah
blah." Then I got to the point where I woke him
up to help me finish the song. Larry Spector,
the manager, lived on the 31st floor of a brand
new condominium building. He had a gold-plated
door. The song has a bit of Edgar Cayce and
earthquake predictions—we beat Nostradamus to it
all. It was fun. It was a tongue-in-cheek deal,
but it became a really good song. Bobby
Kennedy's in the song.
G: He was the friend who came to town?
H: That's right. Roger and I worked a show for
him when he was running in the presidential
primaries. I left and Roger stayed around. Then
Bobby Kennedy came down to meet the people on
the show. Like a big dope, I kick myself for not
staying around. A few months later he came back
to L. A. and was assassinated. There's a bit of
everything in "Sin City".
Ken
In article <3753303d...@news.thegrid.net>,
SPAMFR...@thegrid.net (Michael Tracy) wrote:
> Hi all,
>
> A friend recently lent me a Rhino compilation
> with "Sin City" by Gram Parsons on it. It's been
> years since I heard it--I'd forgotten what a great
> song it was.
>
> I'm curious to know the background/meaning
> of the lyrics. Anybody have any ideas (or, could
> you point me in the direction of any reviews or
> interpretations that might shed some light)?
>
> Thanks much.
>
> Michael
> rw...@theNOSPAMgrid.net
>
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Share what you know. Learn what you don't.
>Here's an excerpt from a Goldmine interview with Chris Hillman in
>early 1997 that has a little background on Sin City:
(snip)
Thank you!
What a fantastic excerpt. Wish I'd seen the while thing.
Ian
Ken
In article <7j8ouj$bbf$1...@news1.cableinet.co.uk>,
Chris Hillman
By Bruce Sylvester
So you wanna be a rock 'n' roll star? The Byrds hit #1 with their very
first single, 1965's "Mr. Tambourine Man", blazing trails for folk rock
and establishing themselves as premier interpreters of Dylan. Raga rock,
space rock, psychedelic rock, electronic rock--they dabbled in them all
from eight miles high amid the hazy experimentalism of the '60s. Though
it never cracked the Top 40, Sweetheart of the Rodeo was the landmark
album in reuniting youthful hippie rock with its aging conservative
parent, country music. But of course, country music was the roots of shy
bassman Chris Hillman--a background Byrd who didn't want Roger McGuinn's
spotlight amid the band's everchanging lineup.
Leaving the Byrds in the late '60s, Chris and doomed Gram Parsons ("the
crown prince of excess") formed the legendary Flying Burrito Brothers.
Together they penned the classics "Wheels" and "Sin City" reuniting
hedonistic rock with its Southern Christian roots.
Ever on the move, Hillman went on to brief stints in Stephen Stills'
Manassas and the Souther, Hillman, Furay Band. Bailing out of the
major-label rat race after solos Slippin' Away and Smooth Sailin', he
dug out his mandolin for the quietly delightful country albums Morning
Sky and Desert Rose for indie Sugar Hill Records (which also reissued
his pre-Byrds bluegrass album The Hillmen) before briefly rejoining
ex-Byrds McGuinn and Gene Clark. In the 1980s, his Desert Rose Band with
former Dillard Herb Pederson and guitarist John Jorgensen carried on the
Burritos' dreams, but with a good deal more professionalism.
In 1991 the original Byrds (McGuinn, Hillman, Clark, David Crosby and
Michael Clarke) were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Last
year, Chris and Herb Pederson put out buoyant Bakersfield Bound, a
tribute to the 1950s-60d West Coast country sound they'd cut their teeth
on. This year the two teamed up with bluegrass guitarists Tony and Larry
Rice on laid back Out of the Woodwork.
Meanwhile, Columbia/Legacy is reissuing the Byrds' original LPs with
bonus outtakes, rehearsals, studio fighting and vintage radio ads for
the discs. The most recent batch--all middle-period Byrds--includes The
Notorious Byrd Brothers and Sweetheart of the Rodeo (with Chris) plus
Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde and Ballad of Easy Rider from after his split. Of
these, only Easy Rider broke the top 40. We hear a band in constant flux
in terms of both style and personnel as they ricochet from Gerry Goffin
and Carole King's pop to Woody Guthrie's populism.
Relaxed and tranquil in his Ventura County, California home, Chris
Hillman stretched out early one morning after getting his kids off to
school to do a lengthy interview with Goldmine. The neophyte bassist in
a superstar '60s group is 54 now. Too many of his fellow Byrds and
Burritos are gone. Chris is a rock and roll survivor. He's seen it all,
the good and the bad, and weathered the storms. As for a Byrds reunion
tour, frankly he'd rather stay home with the kids.
Goldmine: California seems like a cornerstone of your sound.
Hillman: I'm a third-generation native Californian. My great-grandfather
came to L. A. in a wagon in 1884. He was a judge for a while and a
musician. I think he was one of the guys who started the musician's
union--I don't know if that's something I want to brag about.
G: How does your music reflect California?
H: In really everything I've ever absorbed from Latino music--norteno,
mariachi--to Buck Owens and Merle Haggard. Actually the guys I surfed
with in the late '50s and early '60s didn't listen to the Beach Boys.
Most of them were older than I was and listened to people like Jimmy
Reed. I'm sure there were surfers who listened to the Beach Boys, but it
wasn't the crowd I hung around with.
G: Is it true that none of the original Byrds came from a rock
background?
H: Absolutely. Three bands from back then hold that distinction: Buffalo
Springfield, Lovin' Spoonful and the Byrds. We all came out of diverse
folk things. John Sebastian was into jug band music and blues. Stephen
[Stills] and Richie [Furay] were playing folk music in New York City.
Maybe Neil Young had a bit of rock and roll background in Canada. The
Byrds all came out of folk music. Gene Clark and Roger McGuinn had been
in the New Christy Minstrels. David Crosby had been in some mainstream
folk groups as opposed to my bluegrass background. Michael Clarke might
have played in a rock band, but I doubt it because he was learning to
play drums as we were learning to play our instruments. As we plugged
in, we used elements we gained through our other musical experience. I
don't know how to play bass as a bass player should. I didn't know how
to play off the kick drum. I just sort of fumbled around for a few
years. I listened to a lot of Paul McCartney.
G: If you and Michael couldn't already play your instruments, how did
you get into the band?
H: They asked us. Michael was hired because he told them he could play
the drums. Well, he could, but it was very crude. Then they asked me to
take a stab at being the bass player. Having experience playing mandolin
and guitar in bluegrass bands, I said why not. I understood the bass.
Just my only reference was the standup bass from folk and bluegrass.
Then by al of us getting together and playing every night we developed a
sound. We were similar to the Rolling Stones in that if you separate
them, you're not going to find the greatest musicianship, but boy, does
it work when they're together.
The music scene was young at the time. A man working with my bluegrass
group was also working with David, Roger and Gene's group. David was
going to be the bass player, but he wanted to play guitar, so he and
Gene switched and I was brought in. And then we ha the band.
G: Back then did you have any inkling of how important the Byrds would
be?
H: Who knew? I expected to go back to college. I thought, "This is
great! I don't know how far this'll go."
G: Are there bonus tracks on the CD versions of the Byrds albums tat you
think belonged on the original LPs?
H: No. I think people made the right decisions at the time.
Historically, adding outtakes adds some relevance, but I don't even
remember recording a lot of that stuff. The album I'm not familiar with
is Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde. I don't like it. It's not music I think was
the Byrds, but it doesn't concern me one way or the other.
G: The new Notorious Byrd Brothers includes the controversial "Triad"
which the original didn't.
H: We didn't like the song at the time. I don't think it was a moral
decision. The song just didn't work that well. David was drifting and
bored and wanted to do something else, and that song just added fuel to
the fire. As for the stories of Roger and I firing him, David really
didn't want to be in the Byrds anymore anyway. He had reached the
pinnacle. He and Stephen Stills were probably already formulating their
next move. It was just a natural progression of things.
G: During the five month of recording Notorious Byrd Brothers, the band
went from a quartet to a duo with David and Michael leaving. How did you
cope with the chaos?
H: Pretty darn good, actually. That's a good record. Our producer Gary
Usher kept it together. I always worked well with Roger as a team. We
had to do something and we did it. We were both professional enough to
fulfill the commitment.
G: One unlisted track on Notorious Byrd Brothers is basically seven
minutes of fighting with Michael. Was that typical of your recording
sessions?
H: Sometimes the tape recorder was on and they taped you talking between
takes. You're grouped together in a creative endeavor, you're going to
have differences of opinion. I listened to that and at first just
howled. I thought it was the funniest thing in the world. [Reissue
producer] Bob Irwin sent it to me for approval on the CD; we agreed to
it. Then I thought, "My God, Mike has died. Gary Usher, who's in the
booth talking, is dead." It's amazing. David and I were trying to be
conciliatory. And Michael was just being obstinate. He ha backed himself
into a corner. And there it is--the dissolution of the Byrds right there
on tape. That tape will reign right up there up the Troggs' tape. It's
sad to hear and it's also funny.
G: Sweetheart of The Rodeo gives us rehearsal takes 11 and 45 of songs.
Had the band gone into the studio without too solid an idea of how to do
things? It sounds mighty expensive if you were being billed for studio
time.
H: That's the one CD I haven't listened to all the way. It's not my
favorite Byrds album. We had some songs together and consequently came
up with the rest. No one was a disciplined musician. We were still a
cottage industry. I believe our original contract with Columbia gave us
free studio time when we used their studios so we weren't paying the
hourly rate there. But nobody had budgets like they've got today. You
could make 12 records back then for the money they spend on one today.
It wasn't uncommon to have 43 takes when you were dealing with 16-track
machines or two 8-tracks hooked together. What 43 takes were then would
probably be about 5 now.
G: When you played the Grand Ole Opry around the time of Sweetheart of
the Rodeo, did you expect the bad reaction?
H: I walked in there wide-eyed. Here was the original Ryman stage in the
original Opry building. Columbia Records had probably put a little
pressure on the Opry to let us on. We were on Tompall and the Glaser
Brothers' portion of the live broadcast. On the air Tompall said,
"You're going to do Merle Haggard's 'Sing Me Back Home', aren't you?"
And Gram said, "No, we're not. We're gonna do 'Hickory Wind' for my
grandmother." When we started to play, people were going, "tweet tweet".
After we finished Tompall was screaming at Gram, "How dare you make me
look bad on the Opry! Don't you know who I am blah blah blah." The one
person who was nice to us was Skeeter Davis. She was always sort of
wacko down in Nashville. Years later I ran into her when Desert Rose
played the Opry and said, "You were the nicest person that night." She
said, "Oh yeah, people were a little narrow-minded then and somewhat
still are."
G: How did you first meet Gram? Did you have any sense that he was a
doomed cult hero?
H: I didn't think he'd become a cult hero then. It's hard to tab that on
anyone who's walking around. We're all good candidates to become cult
heroes when we die, even them without the talent. The story of how I met
Gram in a bank in Beverly Hills is true. I'd heard of him already. We
had the same manager, Larry Spector, who also managed Hugh Masakela and
a couple of the Monkees. He doesn't even rate his name in print because
he was a thief. I asked Gram down to rehearse. We may have been looking
for a keyboardist and he played a bit of piano. He came down and was
fun. After the rehearsal he broke into a Buck Owens song. He was the
first guy I'd run into since my bluegrass days that knew that music.
After getting to know him, I saw an element of darkness about the poor
guy.
G: What went into writing "Sin City"?
H: Gram and I were sharing a home in the San Fernando Valley. We were
both coming off bad marriages and crying on each other's shoulders. We
worked in the mornings, believe it or not. We didn't do all-night
writing sessions. We were pretty normal at that point. I got up and
started this idea, "This whole town's filled with sin, it will swallow
you in, blah blah blah." Then I got to the point where I woke him up to
help me finish the song. Larry Spector, the manager, lived on the 31st
floor of a brand new condominium building. He had a gold-plated door.
The song has a bit of Edgar Cayce and earthquake predictions-we beat
Nostradamus to it all. It was fun. It was a tongue-in-cheek deal, but it
became a really good song. Bobby Kennedy's in the song.
G: He was the friend who came to town?
H: That's right. Roger and I worked a show for him when he was running
in the presidential primaries. I left and Roger stayed around. Then
Bobby Kennedy came down to meet the people on the show. Like a big dope,
I kick myself for not staying around. A few months later he came back to
L. A. and was assassinated. There's a bit of everything in "Sin City".
G: What was Gram like as a person?
H: He was a warm, sweet guy. He did maybe a semester at Harvard. Well
read. From an interesting family. I didn't realize until later that he
had a trust fund. That took away the hungry artist syndrome. But after
the first Burrito Brothers album came out he got out of control. Roger
has said that Gram used the Byrds as a stepping stone. I agree, probably
knowing him better than anyone, even Emmylou Harris. He was ambitious,
but that's OK. I almost applaud people with that drive, as long as they
don't hurt anybody on the way up. But he did not have the discipline and
the focus to nurture his talent. Gram was seduced by the trappings. He
was riding in the limousine before he had earned the right to do so, if
there is such a right.
We had to fire him from the Burrito Brothers. He wasn't working as a
team player. He didn't care about the rest of us. He'd become enamored
of the Stones. He was almost a lap dog to those guys. They were in L. A.
recording and the Burritos had a local show to do, and I couldn't find
Gram. I had to track him down. He was hanging around with the Stones in
the studio. I went in to get him and he didn't want to do the show.
Jagger got into his face about it and said, " You have a responsibility
to Chris Hillman and you have a responsibility to an audience and to
your band. You have to go to work now. We're busy." I'll never forget
that. Jagger's a very professional guy-look at what he's done with his
life.
Gram wouldn't show up at gigs or he'd show up loaded, unable to perform.
He wouldn't come to rehearsals. It became, "It's me, me, me." It wasn't
a pleasant situation.
G: You've been credited with discovering Emmylou Harris and directing
Gram to her. What was she like then?
H: Actually Rick Roberts of the Flying Burrito Brothers first saw her in
Washington, D. C., while we were working The Cellar Door. He said,
"There's an interesting girl singer down the street. You might want to
check her." I don't recall her doing any country music except one song
or something. Most of it was Joni Mitchell/Joan Baez/Carolyn Hester
stuff. She sat in with the Burritos and was dabbling in country, but I
don't think she really knew what it was yet. By then I had already been
asked to go into Manassas so I was just putting in a couple more weeks
with the Burritos. I told Gram, "You ought to look up this girl in
Washington. You might have something in common." I got him finally to
call her and finally he went up to hear her, and there it was.
G: How did you make it through the '60s and early '70s amid all the
substance abuse when a number of other Byrds and Burritos didn't?
H: I certainly dabbled and experimented too, but I never ended up
slobbering in the gutter, having sold my guitar to buy drugs. I firmly
believe in the programming you get from age one to 12. They're probably
the most important years of your life. My family instilled a good sense
of values and morals in me. Maybe I wasn't after the golden ring on the
merry-go-round that much. I enjoyed being a player in a band. I was a
very shy guy. I didn't want to be the king of the mountain and claw my
way up there. Yeah, I survived. There were times when I almost didn't,
but I did. I lost a lot of good friends. It's sad. And I wasted a lot of
time too. I'd like to have those years back. I would have put more time
into what I'm doing, the music.
G: Was the Desert Rose Band intended to carry out the ideas of the
Burritos?
H: One of the best things I've been involved in was the Desert Rose
Band. It was a highly tuned, highly evolved Flying Burrito Brothers. I'd
learned how to sing better, I'd learned how to write better, I'd learned
how to play better. It was the opposite of the Burritos as far as
professionalism. When we were getting radio hits, 90 percent of the
people we played for didn't know who the Byrds were nor did they care.
They accepted us for what we were and for the music with no
preconceptions, which was real nice.
G: Maybe that's because you weren't a show-stealer. You were a
background Byrd compared to Roger.
H: So was David. David says we were his wingmen. Roger was the singer.
Gene Clark was pretty darn good-he just didn't stick around long. He was
interesting on stage. He was dynamic. I was shy. I stood in the
background and played. That was fine with me at the time. It took me a
long time to come out and grab the front light, but I have no regrets
about that at all.
I've learned how to use my voice as an instrument and how to phrase and
how to get the most out of a note and to use my range in a comfortable
sense. With the Burritos I started to come out when Gram left-we did
some pretty good vocals. I still have a great love for mountain and
bluegrass music, but I haven't kept up with it. I'm out of practice, but
I love singing that style.
G: How did Out of the Woodwork with you and Herb Pedersen and the Rice
brothers come about?
H: I'd kept up a relationship with Tony and Larry Rice for years. I knew
them, gosh, back in 1963 when I replaced their dad, Herb Rice, in the
Golden State Boys. I was 18 then; Larry and Tony were a lot younger.
Then they worked with J. D. Crowe in Lexington, Kentucky. Whenever I
stopped there, I'd see them. I think Larry ran into Herb Pedersen at a
bluegrass festival and they discussed making the album. We were coming
up with songs by phone, fax and e-mail. We got together in Nashville
last January for a couple of days of rehearsal. We recorded the album in
a week. You can tell it's loose and we're just sort of trading songs
back and forth.
G: What makes your teamwork with Herb Pedersen work?
H: Herb and I have so much in common, it's as if we were brothers. We've
known each other for almost 35 years. We grew up together in the music
business. He's a consummate professional. He's the guy who makes all of
us sound good, from Kenny Rogers to Emmylou Harris to whoever, he's done
so much vocal session work with all of these people.
G: How does he make them sound good?
H: He sings good. He goes in there and puts harmony on their lead
vocals. He's the coloring agent. He's the frosting on the cake. He
certainly makes me sound good, and we have a good time working together.
He's a very, very funny, witty guy. Nothing pretentious about him.
Sometimes we want to choke each other, but that's normal.
G: What were you two trying to accomplish with Bakersfield Bound?
H: It wasn't a career move like, "Let's start doing cover songs all the
time." I've never sat down and mapped out a strategy: "This is what I'm
going to do with this record. I'm going to open up the Asian market." We
said, "Let's cut songs that are fun to sing." Roger McGuinn has the
greatest quote, "Why does everybody take this so seriously? It's just
music." It's supposed to make you feel good or get some emotion out of
you.
That Buck Owens stuff on the record is fun to sing, and Herb and I can
sing it better than anyone except Buck Owens and the late Don Rich. That
album cost something like $12,000. I knew it was a good album when we
were doing it. I think we were cheated out of a Grammy nomination for
it, but hey, we can't compete in the mainstream country megamarket in
Nashville. Poor Sugar Hill Records can't even get through the door
there. But we did get picked on lots of critics' Top 10 albums of the
year. But the record wasn't to accomplish anything except to have a good
time. At this point, yes, I want to make a living, for God's sake, but
also we put out that record for sheer joy. That's how it should always
be approached.
G: I hear you're not interested in touring anymore.
H: I got so burned out with the Desert Rose Band. It had been 30 years
of non-stop touring. I don't want to go out for long periods of time. I
have a family. My top priority is my wife and two kids. They're 13 and
eight. My writing partner Steve Hill and I might go over to Europe in
August and play acoustically. Things like that are fun to do. I'm using
the word fun a lot, aren't I? Fun, yes.
At one point David Crosby and I were saying, "Roger won't go out as the
Byrds and we want blah, blah, blah." and then I thought, "Wait a minute.
Roger's smarter than all of us. He's right. Why go out as three Byrds?
Why put ourselves through all that? " Yeah, for the money. Great. But
it's not the same. Let the Byrds be a nice memory. Roger's more
comfortable playing small venues. I can understand that. He doesn't have
to compromise. The Byrds are never going to go out again. Now it's
coming from Hillman. It used to be Hillman saying, "Come on, Roger." No
I agree with him. Even if we did go out for a six-week tour and made
millions of dollars, what does it mean? What am I going to buy? I don't
want anything. I just want to pay my bills and have a nice life here.
Does that make sense?
G: Yes it does.
H: I want to play. I want to work. I want to keep an audience for a
little longer, for as long as I can do it. I don't have the passion I
used to have. I don't think anybody does after 30 years in any job. But
I enjoy it more now.
G: What would you like to do musically?
H: I don't know. I'd love for people to cover some of my songs. I'm very
fortunate that I can still do records on good labels. It's hard to
market anybody my age that's coming out of that singer/songwriter mold.
Pretty soon I'm going to start a solo album for Rounder with songs I've
written over the last two or three years. I have a good stockpile of
stuff to go with. I can't really describe it. It will be Chris Hillman
music. I'd love to include as many people like J. D. Souther and Stephen
Stills as I can. Not for the market value-I could care less-but just
because I had a little part of them for all these years. I'd love to
have Roger and Chris play on my solo album. We'll see if they answer my
phone calls. If they don't, it's OK, I understand.
I'm not going to write the rock autobiography, I'll tell you that. They
write them when they're fairly young and I think, "Is you life over? Is
nothing else going to happen to you?" I don't care if somebody was a
drug addict and then got clean and sober. It's boring. I could write a
great one. I've got more anecdotes than anybody from all the bands I've
been in. I've worked with everyone from religious zealots to a murderer.
G: A murderer?
H: Jim Gordon in the Souther, Hillman, Furay Band. He was the premier
session drummer in L. A. for years. He'd worked with Derek and the
Dominos and Delaney & Bonnie. He was a wonderful guy, but unfortunately
he murdered his mother and is in prison.
G: Did he seem nuts?
H: He seemed a little unstable at times. I got along with him fine. I've
worked with people with every conceivable lifestyle and philosophy.
G: So what do you like to do for recreation?
H: I'm close to my black belt test for kenpo karate. I'm a first-degree
brown belt. My son's a junior brown belt. I love kenpo dearly. It keeps
me focused. I surf once in a while. I run and lift weights once in a
while. My family plays tennis. I'm not very good at it.
G: Anything else you want to talk about?
H: I want to tell you I really appreciate all the people I've worked
with. It sounds like a smarmy statement, but it really isn't. Being in a
band is like you're all holding paintbrushes and trying to paint the
same picture. And everybody's seeing it different. How do you get it?
The band is like being married to these guys. One of the great moments
of the last 35 years was the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in
1991, when all five of the original Byrds were on stage together. It was
like being up there with a bunch of ex-wives. But you loved them. It was
the last time we were together, which was really nice. God, a year later
Gene dies and then Mike dies. It's just horrible. And I read things like
Creedence Clearwater gets inducted and John Fogerty will not allow Doug
Clifford and Stu Cook to come up and play with him. I thought, "How dare
you?" My point being, I have no animosity toward anybody. I really
appreciate everybody I've worked with.
G: If you had to do it all over again, what would you do differently?
H: I would not have wasted so much time on hedonistic pursuits. How's
that for a diplomatic statement? I'd have put more time into learning
how to play. I regret not stepping out earlier and being more assertive
with my vocals, but that's about it. But who knows? You're young and you
make impulsive, silly decisions, and that's how you learn and develop
character. Thank God I'm still around to enjoy it. I've been blessed. My
redemption for anything I might have done badly, which is plenty of
things, is raising my two kids the best I can. They're the love of my
life. I'm very lucky. I'm lucky to be alive. I'm lucky to have been able
to do all those things. If nothing else happens in my life, I had a heck
of a good ride. But I think I've got some more good stuff around the
corner.
"I trust everything will turn out right" - Roger McGuinn The Byrds
He didn't say he hated it. He said didn't like.
He didn't like the direction the band headed in and didn't think it was 'Byrds
music'.
I know that both he and Crosby consider 'The Byrds' to have ended with their
successive exits. I, for one, am grateful that Roger chose to carry on...Tom
G: Are there bonus tracks on the CD versions of the Byrds albums tat you
think belonged on the original LPs?
H: No. I think people made the right decisions at the time. Historically,
adding outtakes adds some relevance, but I don't even
remember recording a lot of that stuff. The album I'm not familiar withis Dr.
Ken what can I say? A FANTASTIC INSIGHTFUL PIECE ABOUT A FINE MAN. I had a
ticket for Chris in England last year but when he cancelled I e-mailed him
and he sent a very civil reply. Just my luck I had a ticket to see Roger
last month but this time I had to cancel due to ill-health in the family.
Que sera sera.
Many thanks for your posting of the CH piece.
Ian
Because you and Hillman say its sucks doesn't make it so. I'm of the
opinion that its a good album, one of my favorites. Clarence's playing
is great, among other things.
Gene Goodale
cptsoul@ici..net
Dr Byrds was the first Byrds album I ever bought back in 69. To this day I
probably listen to that more than any of the others. The first time I heard
This Wheels On Fire I was blown away with Clarence`s playing. I was hooked from
then on!!!!! I can`t help wonder what might have been if Hillman stayed on a
little longer, but then there wouldn`t have been The Sacred Bean Boys-
Burritos!!!!!!! :-)
Kevin
Kevin
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http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Hollow/9872
"and the angel of mercy is right by my side" - C. Hillman
I agree, this is an amazing album. I put it second to UNTITLED as my favorite
later Byrds release. The only lackluster song here, in my opinion, is "Old
Blue".
John P.
To join the High Llamas mailing list, go to:
http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/HighLlamas
>>
>>Because you and Hillman say its sucks doesn't make it so. I'm of the
>>opinion that its a good album, one of my favorites. Clarence's playing
>>is great, among other things.
>>
>>Gene Goodale
>>cptsoul@ici..net
>
>I agree, this is an amazing album. I put it second to UNTITLED as my favorite
>later Byrds release. The only lackluster song here, in my opinion, is "Old
>Blue".
I think it's a good album too, and rank it with "Untitled" as the best
post-NBB release.
As for "Old Blue" I really like it. It has a bit of the familiar
jangle and some lovely guitar from Clarence.
The track I don't like on DBAMH is "Child Of The Universe". I can't
stand those drums being reverbed to death.
The most impressive aspect of DBAMH is it's "dark" vibe. Whether its
dense and sometimes "wooly" mix was intentional or not, I don't know,
but it certainly adds to its brooding quality.
Steve.
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Dr. Byrds is one of my fave albums, period.
I love most of the songs, the atmosphere on the album, the crystaline sound of
the guitars and voices, the almost heavy metal overtones and attitude on some
tracks...Tom