The Flying Burrito Brothers
Burrito Deluxe

Anyone truly knowledgeable about country rock wouldn't give five stars to "Burrito Deluxe," the younger sibling of "The Gilded Palace Of Sin" and the second and last album of new material for Gram Parsons with the Flying Burrito Brothers. The expert mentioned above would at most limit themselves to four stars, but I can't bring myself not to give the highest rating to this work.

I do it because I love the sound of this record, but primarily for a matter, if I may say so, of "fatalism" related to this album. "God's Own Singer" is the title of a song included here and at the same time the epitaph on Gram's tombstone; we have a track titled "Down In The Churchyard," not to mention the cover of the standard "Farther Along," which in '73 would be covered by the Byrds, who would title their album in the same way that year. That song, in that Roger McGuinn album, was sung by guitarist Clarence White, who died shortly after. His death, as we've recounted many times, was soon followed by the departure of his friend-enemy Gram Parsons.

"Burrito Deluxe" is an album that doesn't have the undeniable beauty of "Hot Burrito #1" or the ingenuity of "The Christine's Tune," but contains plenty of excellent and interesting points for reflection. First of all, due to the departure of Chris Ethridge, Chris Hillman returns to the bass (and you can hear it, with his skewed but choreographic way of plucking the strings), while Bernie Leadon arrives in his place, who has already played with Hillman in a pre-Byrds bluegrass band and already has impressive credentials in the country field, suffice it to think of the exceptional debut of the Dillard & Clark Expedition, in which Bernie actively participated, assisting the two of sidecar in writing almost all the tracks. Leadon, incidentally, would shortly become one of the founding members of the Eagles.

Compared to its predecessor, "Burrito Deluxe" leans more towards rock, so much so that it seems more like a rock album played by country men than a true country-rock long play. Already in the opening "Lazy Days," it seems the Stones have taken charge of a herd of cows and mistakenly ended up in Mexico during the transhumance. "High Fashion Queen" seems like a '50s rock n' roll track, where Hillman's bass travels like a true double bass. Dylan's outtake "If You Wanna Go, Go Now," in its form and how it is "respected" by the Brothers, seems to have recently traveled down Highway 61, with the overwhelming vocal harmonies serving as a diversion to the perfect Dylanian rock song.

In "Man In The Fog," Bernie Leadon's bluegrass roots fully manifest: here, the Rolling Stones have ended up, again with the cows in tow, on the highest peak of the Appalachian chain and have ended up building a cabin where only rock square dances are performed. "Older Guys" is the perfect example of what was previously argued: it's a rock track veined with country, not the other way around. In "Down In The Churchyard," then, very little country remains, just a few scraps at most, though more than a rock song, it seems to be a power pop made in England, at some points even supported by brass.

But it's in the covering of Nashville compositions that the sonic evolution is perceived the most. Those that would have been effective, airy, suggestive and, why not?, even possibly slightly dull ballads, take a turn towards something less defined, harder to summarize in a few lines, but more complete. "Farther Along" becomes somewhat sober and perhaps for this very reason seems more lucid. In "Image Of Me," pureblood Nashville style, a spectacular arrangement spares us from the usual unduettrè-unduettrè cadence, as this version is "dense" with musical parts. "Cody Cody" then is breathtaking, and perhaps it's the true, the fairest, the best destination to give to this style of composing: from a sleepy epic-western ballad, it transforms into the most refined Californian acoustic jewel: the Pacific waves on Nashville.

What can be said about "God's Own Singer," entirely composed by Bernie Leadon? It too becomes less syrupy, less whiny "than it should have been," transforming into an even danceable example, in its own way. Finally, "Wild Horses," the famous Stones track destined shortly to become a career colossus starting from "Sticky Fingers": I don't waste time trying to figure out which version is better, whether that of these Burritos or that of the Stones. I prefer instead to emphasize how the Stones are indeed (apparently) more dramatic, because they're more earthy, more grounded, while Parsons and company present themselves in a more ethereal, abstract, floating manner. It's Gram Parsons's cosmic American music, it's a matter of strict adherence to the name one has chosen: the stones roll while the Burritos, as strange as it is, if prepared by an angel along with the Bird with the ypsilon and the Eagle, can even fly.

Rock n' fly.