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The 1968 had started poorly for the Byrds, despite yet another excellent album, the captivating "The Notorious Byrd Brothers." The train of mass success had already passed by, and other West Coast bands, from the Doors to Buffalo Springfield, were taking center stage. The centrifugal forces that had always characterized the jingle-jangle band had also expanded: after Gene Clark, it was David Crosby's turn to leave Roger McGuinn to his despotic yoke, depriving the group of its main compositional force. McGuinn and Hillman found themselves with their backs against the wall (even drummer Michael Clarke had left). It was Hillman who came up with the idea to get the band back on track: sensing the emerging country-rock trend, the bassist decided to co-opt the brightest star of the genre, Gram Parsons. The future grievous angel, with his raw but surprisingly effective "Safe at Home" from his International Submarine Band, had been the first to venture with a rock approach into the rough and rugged paths of country to communicate his open worldview, and his entry turned the band inside out like a sock.
The result was "Sweetheart of the Rodeo," probably the most important country-rock album of all time, as well as the swan song of the Byrds themselves. After all, Hillman had always been the Byrd most oriented towards Nashville: his "Time Between" on "Younger Than Yesterday" featured rustic and pioneering bluegrass guitar insertions. Parsons' charisma and musical versatility, officially joining the Byrds as a keyboardist, did the rest, shaping furthermore the emotional impact of the album, composed of eleven intense and complex episodes capable of infusing their sound with references and visions clearly inspired by the endless American landscapes, like the contemporary albums of The Band and Creedence Clearwater Revival: not surprisingly, the only two original compositions by the band were his, while the rest of the album was made up of covers of traditional songs, or the usual Dylan. The tyrannical McGuinn, however, reserved the vocal parts of almost all the tracks, even Gram's "One Hundred Years from Now" (all the alternate takes are, however, available in the deluxe edition of the album, which is highly recommended to obtain). Feeling decidedly undervalued, Parsons would then defect, citing as a pretext a tour in racist South Africa, to later achieve further artistic heights with the Flying Burrito Brothers and as a solo artist, becoming a basic influence (a random name: Keith Richards on "Sticky Fingers"). But what mattered was done.
To illustrate the magnificence of "Sweetheart of the Rodeo," it would suffice to start with the first track, "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" by Dylan, taken from the (then unreleased) Basement Tapes. The shimmering jingle-jangle fragrances of McGuinn's guitar accelerate the pace of the original version, supported by superb pedal steel work and majestically country vocal harmonies, and probably offer the best tribute made by the Byrds to their most illustrious mentor, just like the concluding "Nothing Was Delivered," rendered as a poignant and final free song of the Sixties.
Yes, the Sixties. The Byrds were among the main narrators of that libertarian decade: how was it possible that the group that had sung one of the most intense psychedelic anthems ("Eight Miles High") could venture into gospel standards such as "The Christian Life," the canonical twangs of "I Am a Pilgrim" or "Life in Prison," an exaltation of the most traditional American way of life? Far from having renounced the spirit of the era, the Byrds had simply handed the helm to Parsons, the bohemian from Harvard who delved into the music of the fathers to repaint it with stories and characters in the spirit of nonconformity and modernity, with the daring of someone possessing their own stylistic cipher, as amply demonstrated by the present "One Hundred Years from Now." A sublime piece, a live staple for years of Stephen Malkmus, alternating a poignant sense of disorientation with a vivid and bloody self-confession of their unruly lifestyle. Even better is the sublime ballad "Hickory Wind," the most precious jewel in Gram's songbook. Divine steel guitar inlays punctuate the astonished and elegiac regret of a childhood sweet as a sunset in the Midwest, symbolizing a purity perpetually pursued but unreachable.
Before the needle took even him away.
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 You Ain't Going Nowhere (02:36)
Written by Bob Dylan
Clouds so swift
Rain won't lift
Gate won't close
Railings froze
Get your mind off wintertime
You ain't goin nowhere
Whoo-ee ride me high
Tomorrow's the day
My bride's gonna come
Oh, Oh are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair
I don't care
How many letters they send
Morning came and morning went
Pack up your money
Pick up your tent
You ain't goin nowhere
Whoo-ee ride me high
Tomorrow's the day
My bride's gonna come
Oh, Oh are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair
Buy me a flute
And a gun that shoots
Tailgates and substitutes
Strap yourself
To a tree with roots
You ain't goin nowhere
Whoo-ee ride me high
Tomorrow's the day
My bride's gonna come
Oh, Oh are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair
Now Genghis Kahn
He could not keep
All his kings
Supplied with sleep
We'll climb that hill no matter how steep
When we get up to it
Whoo-ee ride me high
Tomorrow's the day
My bride's gonna come
Oh, Oh are we gonna fly
Down in the easy chair
03 The Christian Life (02:31)
Written by Louvin/Louvin
My buddies tell me that I should've waited
They say I'm missing a whole world of fun
But I still love them and I sing with pride
I like the Christian life
I won't lose a friend by heeding God's call
For what is a friend who'd want you to fall
Others find pleasure in things I despise
I like the Christian life
My buddies shun me since I turned to Jesus
They say I'm missing a whole world of fun
I live without them and walk in the light
I like the Christian life
I won't lose a friend by heeding God's call
For what is a friend who'd want you to fall
Others find pleasure in things I despise
I like the Christian life
I like the Christian life
04 You Don't Miss Your Water (03:49)
In the beginning you really loved me
But I was blind and I could not see
But when you left me, oh, how I cried
You don't miss your water till your well runs dry
I was a playboy, I could not be true
I couldn't believe I really loved you
But when you left me, oh, how I cried
You don't miss your water till your well runs dry
In the beginning you really loved me
But I was blind and I could not see
But when you left me, oh, how I cried
You don't miss your water till your well runs dry
You don't miss your water till your well runs dry
05 You're Still on My Mind (02:26)
The jukebox is playin' a honky-tonk song
"One more", I keep sayin', "and then I'll go home"
What good will it do me, I know what I'll find
An empty bottle, a broken heart and you're still on my mind
The people are dancin' and havin' their fun
And I sit here thinkin' about what you have done
To try and forget you, I've turned to the wine
An empty bottle, a broken heart and you're still on my mind
Alone and forsaken, so blue I could cry
I just sit here drinkin' till the bottle runs dry
What good will it do me, I know what I'll find
An empty bottle, a broken heart and you're still on my mind
An empty bottle, a broken heart and you're still on my mind
07 Hickory Wind (03:33)
Written by Parsons/Buchanan
In South Carolina, there're many tall pines
I remember the oak tree that we used to climb
But now when I'm lonesome I always pretend
That I'm gettin' the feel of hickory wind
I started out younger, had most everything
All the riches and pleasures, what else can life bring?
But it makes me feel better each time you begin
Callin' me home, hickory wind
It's a hard way to find out that trouble is real
In a faraway city with a faraway feel
But it makes me feel better each time you begin
Callin' me home, hickory wind
Keeps callin' me home, hickory wind
08 One Hundred Years From Now (02:42)
Written by Gram Parsons
One hundred years from this day will the people still feel this way
Still say the things that they're saying right now
Everyone said I'd hurt you, they said that I'd desert you
If I go away, you know I'm gonna get back some how
Nobody knows what kind of trouble we're in
Nobody seems to think it'll all might happen again
One hundred years from this time would anybody change their minds
And find out one thing or two about life
But people are always talking
You know they're always talking
Everybody's so wrong that I know it's gonna work out right
Nobody knows what kind of trouble we're in
Nobody seems to think it all might happen again
11 Nothing Was Delivered (03:22)
Written by Bob Dylan
Nothing was delivered
And I tell this truth to you
Not out of spite or anger
But, simply because it's true
Now you must provide some answers
For what you sell has not been received
And the sooner you come up with them
The sooner you can leave
Nothing is better, nothing is best
Take care of your health and get plenty of rest
Nothing was delivered Just what you had in mind
When you made everybody pay
Now I hope you won't object to this
Giving back all of what you owe
And the sooner you come up with them
The sooner you can leave
Nothing is better, nothing is best
Take care of your health and get plenty of rest
Nothing was delivered
But I can't say I sympathise
With what your fate is going to be
Yes, for telling all those lies
No, nothing was delivered
Yes, and someone must explain
That as long as it takes to do this
Then that's how long you'll remain
Nothing is better, nothing is best
Take care of your health and get plenty of rest
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