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Hot Burritos - Anthology
To download this album via iTunes, click here: 
To buy this album from Amazon.com, click here: Hot Burritos! The Flying Burrito Bros. Anthology 1969-1972
__________________________________________________
Compilation Produced by Mike Ragogna
Mastered by Jim Phillips at Universal Mastering Studios – West, North Hollywood, CA
Project Coordinator: Beth Stempel
Editorial Assistance: Barry Korkin
Art Direction: Vartan
Design: Junie Osaki
Photo Research: Geary Chansley and Jason Pastori
Photography: Jim McCrary except cover: pg 2., and discs: Barry Feinstein
Special Thanks to Andy McKaie, Connie & Chris Hillman, Bill Levenson, Richie Gallo, Rhonda Malmlund, Cary E. Mansfield, Tommy West, Marc Fenton, Bob Hillman, Glen Sanatar and Cliff Van Koppenhagen
Some imperfections exist due to the condition of the original master tapes.
__________________________________________________
“It’s basically a Southern soul group playing country and gospel-oriented music with a steel guitar.” – Gram Parsons
“It was too country to get on FM rock radio, and it wasn’t slick or polished enough to get on country radio. But I’m sure we influenced lots of musicians out there – and that certainly outweighs monetary gain.” – Chris Hillman
Picture The Flying Burrito Brothers as the trunk of a big ole oak tree, with the band’s musical descendants as branches running every which way: What you have is an arbor of music ranging from the group with the best-selling album of the 20th century (The Eagles: Their Greatest Hits 1971-1975) and its California-rock confreres of the ‘70s to the left-of-center sounds of cowpunk and roots rock of the ‘80s to Americana, y’alternative, and mainstream country of the ‘90s. Half of those 40,000 copies sold of the Flying Burrito Brothers’ debut, The Gilded Palace Of Sin, must have gone straight into the hands of musicians, because that collection of songs – as well as the rest of the early Burritos’ canon – lives and breathes today, through the work of hundreds of different artists.
The story of The Flying Burrito Brothers is steeped in good times and great music, yet fraught with falling-outs and bad luck. The band’s concept was an ambitious idea that was ahead of its time. Its seed was germinated in the1967 version of the Byrds, where Chris Hillman and newcomer Gram Parsons found soulmates in one another. An original Byrd, Hillman had grown up in California, going to Rose Maddox and Bill Monroe shows and playing bluegrass with the Gosdin brothers. Southern boy Parsons had already recorded what could arguably be called the first “country-rock” (a term he despised) album, Safe At Home, with his International Submarine Band (ISB).
“He was the new kid in town,” Hillman recalled in 1999, “and was doing country stuff, which I had always liked. We sort of hooked up at an opportune time for everyone. His band did not take off like he expected. We were short a guy in the Byrds, and he tried out, and as Roger McGuinn has said, ‘We got George Jones in a Nudie suit.’”
After hijacking the 1967 Sweetheart Of The Rodeo sessions, turning them into a Bradley Barn-ish recording featuring Parson’s twang and songcraft, along with C&W, folk, and R&B nuggets, the two were off and running on a shared vision of country music played with rock & roll attitude. Parsons, in fact, had names the stew of country, rhythm & blues and rock & roll he wanted to concoct “Cosmic American Music.”
“I give Gram full credit for getting me into playing R&B,” Hillman says. “It was not my doing – I was very country-oriented. I loved the older blues thing, but that was something I couldn’t quite ever do. It was ludicrous for a middle-class white surfer kid from California to be trying to do Muddy Waters. Gram had more of an affinity to that, and it certainly opened my eyes to it and the fact of blending it with country.”
There was a brief intermission in the Hillman/Parsons collaboration when the latter quit the Byrds just prior to a South African tour. By the time Hillman had gotten over being sore, he’d left the band too, and in 1968 the pair mended fences by throwing themselves into their new musical project. Parson had already hooked up with Mississippi-bred bassist Chris Ethridge, who’d done session work on Safe At Home. The name “Flying Burrito Brothers” also came courtesy of the ISB in a roundabout way. Two former ISB members had formed a looseknit band with that name, playing rootsy covers at a Topanga club, The Corral. When the pair returned East, the up-for-grabs name perfectly fit the devil-may-care style and red-hot creative energy percolating at a house in Reseda where Hillman and Parson shared quarters.
“It was a good collaboration,” according to Hillman, “because we were leading fairly normal lifestyles, meaning more of those songs were written in the daytime, which I prefer even to this day. One guy would get an idea and we’d work at it. ‘Sin City’ is a good example.”
Thanks to a crooked manager who’d burned him, Hillman had been inspired with the opening lines to the wrenching song of innocence lost, which Parsons helped to finish. “It was a real healthy period, which I still look back at as a very productive time,” says Hillman. “We did ‘My Uncle’ because Gram got his draft notice, so we just sat down and wrote this song.” Everly Brothers fans, Hillman and Parsons connected immediately with sibling-like harmonies, Parsons’ honky-tonk approach and Hillman’s focused bluegrass sensibility. One day, Hillman discovered Parsons and Etheridge at the piano, completing an incredibly emotional ballad of ruined love. “Hot Burrito #1,” along with the Ethridge/Parsons spine-tingling follow-up “Hot Burrito #2” remain two of the band’s most evocative works, sung by Parsons with his heart in his hands. “I walked in and he and Chris had worked on those two and my mouth just fell open,” Hillman recalls as if it were yesterday. “It wasn’t out of envy, it was that I went, ‘Wow, look at what this guy can do.’”
In addition to the firebrand songwriting and inspired vocals, the other prime ingredient of the early Burritos sound was the unique pedal steel playing of “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow an animation artist who’d worked on the characters Gumby and Pokey. Using pickup drummers, the band started playing Valley shitkicker joints, mixing Little Richard covers with steamy Stax/Volt numbers and country weepers courtesy of Merle Haggard, George Jones and Hank Williams. The Burritos slipped in their own emerging classics like the Hillman/Parsons love affair with bikes, and the raucous “Christine’s Tune,” based on a femme fatale the guys knew from the Palomino. (The title was remorsefully changed to “Devil in Disguise,” after Christine died in a car wreck.)
Thus, the repertoire evolved that made its way the band’s richly textured 1969 debut, The Gilded Palace Of Sin. “That first album was a lot of fun,” Hillman recalls. “It’s funky and it’s crude and technologically not even on the mark for what we were doing then. But it’s got some magic to it.” Still a four piece, the band employed session drummers, including former ISB member Jon Corneal, for the recording. Along with the Dixie-fried and sanctified originals, including a Luke-the-Drifter style spoken piece. “Hippie Boy,” the band re-created Memphis soul. “The best thing about the Burrito Brothers experience,” according to Hillman, “was plugging into Gram’s insight on the R&B stuff, where he took ‘Do Right Woman,’ which was really a woman’s song [originally cut by Aretha Franklin] and performed it with a man’s point of view. Gram gave that and ‘Dark End of the Street’ – these beautiful rhythm & blues ballads – a country presentation, which really worked wonderfully. That’s where he shined. His knowledge and taste in music was impeccable.”
Shortly after the record’s completion, ex-Byrd drummer Michael Clarke came on board, and the Burritos, gussied up in rock & roll-style Nudie suits, started looking for an audience: “We would play Hispanic dances in El Monte, California, and we played a prison with Delaney and bonnie.” Hillman remembers. “We couldn’t get arrested when we were together but we did get arrested once, literally. We were gonna do a high school assembly in the San Fernando Valley and we got arrested because we looked funny. They took us to jail! We were the Marilyn Manson of ’69!”
Hit records be damned: The band continued to have a ball, going on a booze-and-drug fueled train tour to support the first album (as well as the members’ poker-playing habit). One night, rumor has it, the boys decided to change their image. Parsons bought them matching turbans so they could hit the stage looking like a costume-coordinated R&B band. The excursion might not have sold many albums, but it did result in another Parsons/Hillman collaboration, the good-timin’ “The Train Song,” which was quickly recorded and released as a single. Judging from bootlegs of their live shows, the Burritos crashed and burned through twangy rave-ups and emoted ragged, raw, hillbilly soul – a far cry from the slick polished sound of Nashville countrypolitan and what would become commercial country-rock. “What did the Burritos sound like? It was loose, but it was fun, full of life, full of energy,” according to Hillman. In the meantime, Eagle-to-be Glenn Frey was a regular at their shows, and his future bandmate, multi-instrumentalist Bernie Leadon joined the Burritos when Hillman moved to bass, upon the departure of Chris Ethridge, who’d become fed up with the dwindling audience.
More dangerous to the original group than indifference, however, was the attention paid to Parsons by Keith Richards. By all accounts, Parsons was the ultimate fan when it came to the Rolling Stones, then hanging out in L.A. – and he started spending little time at Burrito Manor, newly relocated to North Hollywood. By 1970’s Burrito Deluxe, the inflamed creative collusions had ended. In addition, the more-uptempo album found “Sneeky” Pete’s over-the-top fuzz-steel reined in and the R&B flavorings gone. Still, the polished-sounding recoding had some fine tracks, including the bouncy, norteno-accordion-tinged “Man In The Fog,” the fiddle-drenched Harlan Howard tearjerker “Image Of Me,” and the definitive version of the Stones’ beauty, “Wild Horses.” Stories vary as to how the Burritos recorded the song before the Stones some say it was a gift to Parsons in return for is contributions to “Country Honk”/ “Honky-Tonk Woman” (which the Burritos were playing live.) Others claim he’d been sent the song’s incomplete master to pass along to Kleinow to overdub steel guitar. What’s indisputable is the utter pathos conveyed by Parsons’ reading of it, dramatically complemented by Leon Russell’s superb piano work.
With the album’s release, a few more half-hearted gigs followed suit, along with a return to the studio to cut such C&W chestnuts as Haggard’s “Sing Me Back Home” and “Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down” and “Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down” and a transcendent take on the Bee Gees’ “To Love Somebody.” Soon after, missing gigs and showing up a mess one to many times, Parsons got his walking papers. “He had the talent. He had the spark,” Hillman sighs. “He had no discipline.”
Right away, Hillman round another new Southern guy in town, singer-songwriter Rick Roberts, a Florida native who’d moved West after graduating from college in South Carolina. In addition to collaborating with Hillman on material, he brought songs like “Colorado” and “Four Days of Rain” to the sessions for the band’s self-titled 1971 release. On it, the sound continued to move in the same direction the nascent Eagles were pursuing; Leadon would help them craft that style, arriving in time for the Eagles’ debut recording, released in 1972. Meanwhile, the Burritos were joined on one track by ex-Byrd Gene Clark, who contributed his lovely “Here Tonight,” upon which he sang lead as well.
By 1972, things were coming to an end for the group, with departures by Leadon and Kleinow, who was replaced by Al Perkins. Before long, Stephen Stills would recruit Hillman and Perkins for his new project, Manassas. Down the pike, Hillman would pursue a solo career as well as form other outfits, including the Desert Rose Band, which would score several country his. (A Rick Roberts led Burritos with all new members would continue on for a few years.)
To promote the group’s swansong, the live Last Of The Red Hot Burritos, A&M’s Chuck Cassell tracked down various members, including Parsons, for interviews. Earlier, Parson had complained about the latter-day Burritos, grousing that he felt like a “mother hen whose eggs had been broken.” But now, feeling circumspect, he raved about a new singing partner Hillman and Roberts had turned him on to. Spotting an undiscovered talent performing at a tiny Washington D.C., club, the two Burritos had contacted Parsons, who’d just returned from abroad. He’d been looking for a female duet partner, and this gal, Emmylou Harris, seemed perfect. Indeed, she was – as Parsons’ brilliant solo albums, GP and Grievous Angel, testify. (Sadly, after completing the second collaborative effort with Harris, Parsons died in the California desert at 26, his grave mark in New Orleans inscribed with a Burritos’ song title, Leadon’s “God’s Own Singer.”)
Just prior to meeting Cassell on that day in 1972, Parsons had reconvened with his old band for two incendiary nights, joining Hillman, Roberts, Gene Clark, Al Perkins and Michael Clarke for a pair of gigs in Baltimore and Charlotte, North Carolina. With all wrongs washed away, as only great music can do, the boys just got together and played – like the old days – for fun. A few days later, Cassell asked Parsons to put the Burritos into perspective. And what he had to say – judging from the Long Ryders, Rank + File, Steve Earle, Dwight Yoakam, Uncle Tupelo, the Jayhawks, the Waco Brothers, Whiskeytown, the list goes on and on – could possibly called a prophecy.
“I’d like to be able to come up with something that would be a really wonderful obituary for the Burrito Brothers,” Parsons mused, “but the idea will keep on going. It’s not like it’s dead or anything. Whether I do it or anybody else does it, it’s got to keep on going … it can exist anywhere.”
And so it goes.
- Holly George-Warren
February, 2000
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Yes, it’s true, we really did meet up in a bank in Beverly Hills around 1967. I had heard about this “new kid in town,” Gram Parsons, who wrote and sang country music.
And naturally having cut my teeth on traditional country music, we really hit it off. At that point in time, the Byrds were sort of spinning their wheels, having been reduced to Roger McGuinn and myself from the original lineup. As fate would have it, we were looking for another singer-guitarist to fill in until we decided which direction we were heading.
After our initial meeting in the teller line at the bank, I found out that Gram was sort of “drifting,” having just finished recording the “International Submarine Band.” McGuinn and I had already been leaning towards a more “country sound” with our previous release, Younger Than Yesterday, but the Submarine Band was really locked into the sound. I asked him if he wanted to come down to a rehearsal that night. He ended up staying with the Byrds for six or seven months.
One incident I will always remember, as the night started to wear down, Gram was fooling around with his guitar and he started to sing a Buck Owens song “Under Your Spell Again.” I immediately grabbed the Don Rich tenor part and that was it! Magic! This guy really did know the “good music.” It was about a year later that we put the band together. And that first year was the best. We were writing songs every morning, hanging out at “Nudies” in the afternoon and going to clubs every night to hear people like Delaney and Bonnie who were just starting out in a little bar in the valley.
It was a glorious time in Los Angeles! The music business was fresh and creative, it was exciting. You could literally drive across the L.A. basin and hear every conceivable style of music in one night. And we did just that, absorbing every little nuance along the way. The Burritos had soul and style very few, if any, will ever capture again.
- Chris Hillman
January, 2000
To buy this album from Amazon.com, click here: Hot Burritos! The Flying Burrito Bros. Anthology 1969-1972
__________________________________________________
Hot Burritos!
The Flying Burrito Brothers
Anthology
1969 – 1972
_____________________________________________
The Flying Burrito Brothers
Anthology
1969 – 1972
_____________________________________________
Disc One:
1. Christine’s Tune
(aka Devil In Disguise)
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
2. Sin City
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
3. Do Right Woman
Chips Moman – Dan Penn
4. Dark End Of The Street
Spooner Oldham – Dan Penn
5. My Uncle
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
6. Wheels
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
7. Juanita
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
8. Hot Burrito #1
Chris Ethridge – Gram Parsons
A&M Single 1067
9. Hot Burrito #2
Chris Ethridge – Gram Parsons
10. Do You Know How It Feels
Gram Parsons – Barry Goldberg
11. Hippie Boy
Chris Hillman Gram Parsons
12. The Train Song
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
A&M Single 1067
13. Lazy Days
Gram Parsons
14. Image Of Me
Harlan Howard
15. High Fashion Queen
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
16. If You Gotta Go
Bob Dylan
A&M Single 1166
17. Man In The Fog
Bernie Leadon – Gram Parsons
18. Farther Along
P.D. arranged by Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
19. Older Guys
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman – Bernie Leadon
A&M Single 1189
20. Cody, Cody
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
A&M Single 1166
21. God’s Own Singer
Bernie Leadon
22. Down In The Churchyard
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
A&M Single 1189
23. Wild Horses
Mick Jagger – Keith Richards
1. Christine’s Tune
(aka Devil In Disguise)
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
2. Sin City
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
3. Do Right Woman
Chips Moman – Dan Penn
4. Dark End Of The Street
Spooner Oldham – Dan Penn
5. My Uncle
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
6. Wheels
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
7. Juanita
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
8. Hot Burrito #1
Chris Ethridge – Gram Parsons
A&M Single 1067
9. Hot Burrito #2
Chris Ethridge – Gram Parsons
10. Do You Know How It Feels
Gram Parsons – Barry Goldberg
11. Hippie Boy
Chris Hillman Gram Parsons
Tracks 1 – 11 From
The Gilded Palace Of Sin – A&M 4175
Produced by The Flying Burrito Brothers, Larry Marks and Henry Lewy
Musicians:
Gram Parsons – vocals, rhythm guitar, keyboards
Chris Hillman – vocals, rhythm guitar, mandolin
Chris Ethridge – bass, piano
“Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – pedal steel guita
Additional Musicians:
Jon Corneal: drums (tracks 1, 3, 4, 5, 7)
Eddie Hoh: drums (tracks 2 & 10)
Sam Goldstein: drums (track 6)
Popeye Phillips: drums (track 8, 9, 11)
____________________________________________________________The Gilded Palace Of Sin – A&M 4175
Produced by The Flying Burrito Brothers, Larry Marks and Henry Lewy
Musicians:
Gram Parsons – vocals, rhythm guitar, keyboards
Chris Hillman – vocals, rhythm guitar, mandolin
Chris Ethridge – bass, piano
“Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – pedal steel guita
Additional Musicians:
Jon Corneal: drums (tracks 1, 3, 4, 5, 7)
Eddie Hoh: drums (tracks 2 & 10)
Sam Goldstein: drums (track 6)
Popeye Phillips: drums (track 8, 9, 11)
12. The Train Song
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
A&M Single 1067
13. Lazy Days
Gram Parsons
14. Image Of Me
Harlan Howard
15. High Fashion Queen
Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
16. If You Gotta Go
Bob Dylan
A&M Single 1166
17. Man In The Fog
Bernie Leadon – Gram Parsons
18. Farther Along
P.D. arranged by Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons
19. Older Guys
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman – Bernie Leadon
A&M Single 1189
20. Cody, Cody
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
A&M Single 1166
21. God’s Own Singer
Bernie Leadon
22. Down In The Churchyard
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman
A&M Single 1189
23. Wild Horses
Mick Jagger – Keith Richards
Track 22
Produced by Johnny Guitar Watson & Larry Williamson
Same line-up as tracks 1 – 11 plus Michael Clarke: drums
Clarence White: lead six-string guitar
Same line-up as tracks 1 – 11 plus Michael Clarke: drums
Clarence White: lead six-string guitar
Tracks 13 – 23 From
Burrito Deluxe A&M 4258
Produced by Jim Dickson & Henry Lewy
Musicians:
Gram Parsons: vocals, piano
Chris Hillman: vocals, bass, mandolin
Bernie Leadon: guitar, dobro
“Sneeky” Pete Kleinow: pedal steel guitar
Michael Clarke: drums
Additional Musicians:
Leon Russell: piano (tracks 17 & 23)
Byron Berline: fiddle
Leopoldo C. Carbajal: accordion
Frank Blanco: percussion
Tommy Johnson: tuba
Buddy Childers: cornet & flugelhorn
__________________________________________________Burrito Deluxe A&M 4258
Produced by Jim Dickson & Henry Lewy
Musicians:
Gram Parsons: vocals, piano
Chris Hillman: vocals, bass, mandolin
Bernie Leadon: guitar, dobro
“Sneeky” Pete Kleinow: pedal steel guitar
Michael Clarke: drums
Additional Musicians:
Leon Russell: piano (tracks 17 & 23)
Byron Berline: fiddle
Leopoldo C. Carbajal: accordion
Frank Blanco: percussion
Tommy Johnson: tuba
Buddy Childers: cornet & flugelhorn
Disc Two
1. Six Days On The Road
Earl Green – Carl Montgomery
2. Close Up The Honky-Tonks
Red Simpson
3. Break My Mind
J.D. Loudermilk
4. Dim Lights
M. Adler
5. Sing Me Back Home
Merle Haggard
6. Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down
Merle Haggard
7. To Love Somebody
Barry, Robin & Maurice Gibb
8. White Line Fever
Merle Haggard
A&M Single 1277
9. Colorado
Rick Roberts
A&M Single 1277
10. Hand To Mouth
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
11. Tried So Hard
Gene Clark
12. Just Can’t Be
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
13. To Ramona
Bob Dylan
14. Four Days Of Rain
Rick Roberts
15. Can’t You Hear Me Calling
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
16. All Alone
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
17. Why Are You Crying
Rick Roberts
18. Here Tonight
Gene Clark
19. Ain’t That A Lot Of Love – Live
Homer Banks – Dean Parker
20. Losing Game – Live
James Carr – Denny Weaver
Track 1 Previously Released On
The Best Of The Flying Burrito Brothers A&M 5216
Produced by Jim Dickson
Tracks 2, 3, 5, 7 & 19 Previously Released On
Close Up The Honky-Tonks A&M 3631
Produced by Gram Parsons
Tracks 4 & 6 Previously Released On
Gram Parsons / The Flying Burrito Brothers
Sleepless Nights A&M 4578
Produced by Gram Parsons
Tracks 8 – 17 From
The Flying Burrito Brothers A&M 4295
Produced by Jim Dickson & Bob Hughes
Musicians:
Chris Hillman: vocals, bass
Rick Roberts: vocals, rhythm guitar
“Sneeky” Pete Kleinow: pedal steel guitar
Michael Clarke: drums
Bernie Leadon: lead electric and acoustic guitars, banjo
Additional Musicians:
Earl Ball: piano (tracks 8 & 10)
Mike Deasy: guitar (track 13)
Bob Gibson: acoustic 12-string (track 10)
Tracks 19 & 20 From
Last Of The Red Hot Burritos A&M 4343
Produced by Jim Dickson
Musicians:
Chris Hillman: vocals, bass, mandolin
Rick Roberts: vocals, rhythm guitar
Al Perkins: pedal steel guitar
Kenny Wertz: acoustic guitar, banjo
Michael Clarke: drums
Byron Berline: fiddle
Roger Bush: acoustic bass
__________________________________________________1. Six Days On The Road
Earl Green – Carl Montgomery
2. Close Up The Honky-Tonks
Red Simpson
3. Break My Mind
J.D. Loudermilk
4. Dim Lights
M. Adler
5. Sing Me Back Home
Merle Haggard
6. Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down
Merle Haggard
7. To Love Somebody
Barry, Robin & Maurice Gibb
8. White Line Fever
Merle Haggard
A&M Single 1277
9. Colorado
Rick Roberts
A&M Single 1277
10. Hand To Mouth
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
11. Tried So Hard
Gene Clark
12. Just Can’t Be
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
13. To Ramona
Bob Dylan
14. Four Days Of Rain
Rick Roberts
15. Can’t You Hear Me Calling
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
16. All Alone
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman
17. Why Are You Crying
Rick Roberts
18. Here Tonight
Gene Clark
19. Ain’t That A Lot Of Love – Live
Homer Banks – Dean Parker
20. Losing Game – Live
James Carr – Denny Weaver
Track 1 Previously Released On
The Best Of The Flying Burrito Brothers A&M 5216
Produced by Jim Dickson
Tracks 2, 3, 5, 7 & 19 Previously Released On
Close Up The Honky-Tonks A&M 3631
Produced by Gram Parsons
Tracks 4 & 6 Previously Released On
Gram Parsons / The Flying Burrito Brothers
Sleepless Nights A&M 4578
Produced by Gram Parsons
Tracks 8 – 17 From
The Flying Burrito Brothers A&M 4295
Produced by Jim Dickson & Bob Hughes
Musicians:
Chris Hillman: vocals, bass
Rick Roberts: vocals, rhythm guitar
“Sneeky” Pete Kleinow: pedal steel guitar
Michael Clarke: drums
Bernie Leadon: lead electric and acoustic guitars, banjo
Additional Musicians:
Earl Ball: piano (tracks 8 & 10)
Mike Deasy: guitar (track 13)
Bob Gibson: acoustic 12-string (track 10)
Tracks 19 & 20 From
Last Of The Red Hot Burritos A&M 4343
Produced by Jim Dickson
Musicians:
Chris Hillman: vocals, bass, mandolin
Rick Roberts: vocals, rhythm guitar
Al Perkins: pedal steel guitar
Kenny Wertz: acoustic guitar, banjo
Michael Clarke: drums
Byron Berline: fiddle
Roger Bush: acoustic bass
Compilation Produced by Mike Ragogna
Mastered by Jim Phillips at Universal Mastering Studios – West, North Hollywood, CA
Project Coordinator: Beth Stempel
Editorial Assistance: Barry Korkin
Art Direction: Vartan
Design: Junie Osaki
Photo Research: Geary Chansley and Jason Pastori
Photography: Jim McCrary except cover: pg 2., and discs: Barry Feinstein
Special Thanks to Andy McKaie, Connie & Chris Hillman, Bill Levenson, Richie Gallo, Rhonda Malmlund, Cary E. Mansfield, Tommy West, Marc Fenton, Bob Hillman, Glen Sanatar and Cliff Van Koppenhagen
Some imperfections exist due to the condition of the original master tapes.
__________________________________________________
The Flying Burrito Brothers: 1969 – 1972
Al Perkins – Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman – Byron Berline – Kenny Wertz – Michael Clarke – Roger Bush
Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman – Bernie Leadon – “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – Michael Clarke
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman – Bernie Leadon – “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – Michael Clarke
Jon Corneal – Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons – “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – Chris Ethridge
__________________________________________________Rick Roberts – Chris Hillman – Bernie Leadon – “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – Michael Clarke
Gram Parsons – Chris Hillman – Bernie Leadon – “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – Michael Clarke
Jon Corneal – Chris Hillman – Gram Parsons – “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow – Chris Ethridge
“It’s basically a Southern soul group playing country and gospel-oriented music with a steel guitar.” – Gram Parsons
“It was too country to get on FM rock radio, and it wasn’t slick or polished enough to get on country radio. But I’m sure we influenced lots of musicians out there – and that certainly outweighs monetary gain.” – Chris Hillman
Picture The Flying Burrito Brothers as the trunk of a big ole oak tree, with the band’s musical descendants as branches running every which way: What you have is an arbor of music ranging from the group with the best-selling album of the 20th century (The Eagles: Their Greatest Hits 1971-1975) and its California-rock confreres of the ‘70s to the left-of-center sounds of cowpunk and roots rock of the ‘80s to Americana, y’alternative, and mainstream country of the ‘90s. Half of those 40,000 copies sold of the Flying Burrito Brothers’ debut, The Gilded Palace Of Sin, must have gone straight into the hands of musicians, because that collection of songs – as well as the rest of the early Burritos’ canon – lives and breathes today, through the work of hundreds of different artists.
The story of The Flying Burrito Brothers is steeped in good times and great music, yet fraught with falling-outs and bad luck. The band’s concept was an ambitious idea that was ahead of its time. Its seed was germinated in the1967 version of the Byrds, where Chris Hillman and newcomer Gram Parsons found soulmates in one another. An original Byrd, Hillman had grown up in California, going to Rose Maddox and Bill Monroe shows and playing bluegrass with the Gosdin brothers. Southern boy Parsons had already recorded what could arguably be called the first “country-rock” (a term he despised) album, Safe At Home, with his International Submarine Band (ISB).
“He was the new kid in town,” Hillman recalled in 1999, “and was doing country stuff, which I had always liked. We sort of hooked up at an opportune time for everyone. His band did not take off like he expected. We were short a guy in the Byrds, and he tried out, and as Roger McGuinn has said, ‘We got George Jones in a Nudie suit.’”
After hijacking the 1967 Sweetheart Of The Rodeo sessions, turning them into a Bradley Barn-ish recording featuring Parson’s twang and songcraft, along with C&W, folk, and R&B nuggets, the two were off and running on a shared vision of country music played with rock & roll attitude. Parsons, in fact, had names the stew of country, rhythm & blues and rock & roll he wanted to concoct “Cosmic American Music.”
“I give Gram full credit for getting me into playing R&B,” Hillman says. “It was not my doing – I was very country-oriented. I loved the older blues thing, but that was something I couldn’t quite ever do. It was ludicrous for a middle-class white surfer kid from California to be trying to do Muddy Waters. Gram had more of an affinity to that, and it certainly opened my eyes to it and the fact of blending it with country.”
There was a brief intermission in the Hillman/Parsons collaboration when the latter quit the Byrds just prior to a South African tour. By the time Hillman had gotten over being sore, he’d left the band too, and in 1968 the pair mended fences by throwing themselves into their new musical project. Parson had already hooked up with Mississippi-bred bassist Chris Ethridge, who’d done session work on Safe At Home. The name “Flying Burrito Brothers” also came courtesy of the ISB in a roundabout way. Two former ISB members had formed a looseknit band with that name, playing rootsy covers at a Topanga club, The Corral. When the pair returned East, the up-for-grabs name perfectly fit the devil-may-care style and red-hot creative energy percolating at a house in Reseda where Hillman and Parson shared quarters.
“It was a good collaboration,” according to Hillman, “because we were leading fairly normal lifestyles, meaning more of those songs were written in the daytime, which I prefer even to this day. One guy would get an idea and we’d work at it. ‘Sin City’ is a good example.”
Thanks to a crooked manager who’d burned him, Hillman had been inspired with the opening lines to the wrenching song of innocence lost, which Parsons helped to finish. “It was a real healthy period, which I still look back at as a very productive time,” says Hillman. “We did ‘My Uncle’ because Gram got his draft notice, so we just sat down and wrote this song.” Everly Brothers fans, Hillman and Parsons connected immediately with sibling-like harmonies, Parsons’ honky-tonk approach and Hillman’s focused bluegrass sensibility. One day, Hillman discovered Parsons and Etheridge at the piano, completing an incredibly emotional ballad of ruined love. “Hot Burrito #1,” along with the Ethridge/Parsons spine-tingling follow-up “Hot Burrito #2” remain two of the band’s most evocative works, sung by Parsons with his heart in his hands. “I walked in and he and Chris had worked on those two and my mouth just fell open,” Hillman recalls as if it were yesterday. “It wasn’t out of envy, it was that I went, ‘Wow, look at what this guy can do.’”
In addition to the firebrand songwriting and inspired vocals, the other prime ingredient of the early Burritos sound was the unique pedal steel playing of “Sneeky” Pete Kleinow an animation artist who’d worked on the characters Gumby and Pokey. Using pickup drummers, the band started playing Valley shitkicker joints, mixing Little Richard covers with steamy Stax/Volt numbers and country weepers courtesy of Merle Haggard, George Jones and Hank Williams. The Burritos slipped in their own emerging classics like the Hillman/Parsons love affair with bikes, and the raucous “Christine’s Tune,” based on a femme fatale the guys knew from the Palomino. (The title was remorsefully changed to “Devil in Disguise,” after Christine died in a car wreck.)
Thus, the repertoire evolved that made its way the band’s richly textured 1969 debut, The Gilded Palace Of Sin. “That first album was a lot of fun,” Hillman recalls. “It’s funky and it’s crude and technologically not even on the mark for what we were doing then. But it’s got some magic to it.” Still a four piece, the band employed session drummers, including former ISB member Jon Corneal, for the recording. Along with the Dixie-fried and sanctified originals, including a Luke-the-Drifter style spoken piece. “Hippie Boy,” the band re-created Memphis soul. “The best thing about the Burrito Brothers experience,” according to Hillman, “was plugging into Gram’s insight on the R&B stuff, where he took ‘Do Right Woman,’ which was really a woman’s song [originally cut by Aretha Franklin] and performed it with a man’s point of view. Gram gave that and ‘Dark End of the Street’ – these beautiful rhythm & blues ballads – a country presentation, which really worked wonderfully. That’s where he shined. His knowledge and taste in music was impeccable.”
Shortly after the record’s completion, ex-Byrd drummer Michael Clarke came on board, and the Burritos, gussied up in rock & roll-style Nudie suits, started looking for an audience: “We would play Hispanic dances in El Monte, California, and we played a prison with Delaney and bonnie.” Hillman remembers. “We couldn’t get arrested when we were together but we did get arrested once, literally. We were gonna do a high school assembly in the San Fernando Valley and we got arrested because we looked funny. They took us to jail! We were the Marilyn Manson of ’69!”
Hit records be damned: The band continued to have a ball, going on a booze-and-drug fueled train tour to support the first album (as well as the members’ poker-playing habit). One night, rumor has it, the boys decided to change their image. Parsons bought them matching turbans so they could hit the stage looking like a costume-coordinated R&B band. The excursion might not have sold many albums, but it did result in another Parsons/Hillman collaboration, the good-timin’ “The Train Song,” which was quickly recorded and released as a single. Judging from bootlegs of their live shows, the Burritos crashed and burned through twangy rave-ups and emoted ragged, raw, hillbilly soul – a far cry from the slick polished sound of Nashville countrypolitan and what would become commercial country-rock. “What did the Burritos sound like? It was loose, but it was fun, full of life, full of energy,” according to Hillman. In the meantime, Eagle-to-be Glenn Frey was a regular at their shows, and his future bandmate, multi-instrumentalist Bernie Leadon joined the Burritos when Hillman moved to bass, upon the departure of Chris Ethridge, who’d become fed up with the dwindling audience.
More dangerous to the original group than indifference, however, was the attention paid to Parsons by Keith Richards. By all accounts, Parsons was the ultimate fan when it came to the Rolling Stones, then hanging out in L.A. – and he started spending little time at Burrito Manor, newly relocated to North Hollywood. By 1970’s Burrito Deluxe, the inflamed creative collusions had ended. In addition, the more-uptempo album found “Sneeky” Pete’s over-the-top fuzz-steel reined in and the R&B flavorings gone. Still, the polished-sounding recoding had some fine tracks, including the bouncy, norteno-accordion-tinged “Man In The Fog,” the fiddle-drenched Harlan Howard tearjerker “Image Of Me,” and the definitive version of the Stones’ beauty, “Wild Horses.” Stories vary as to how the Burritos recorded the song before the Stones some say it was a gift to Parsons in return for is contributions to “Country Honk”/ “Honky-Tonk Woman” (which the Burritos were playing live.) Others claim he’d been sent the song’s incomplete master to pass along to Kleinow to overdub steel guitar. What’s indisputable is the utter pathos conveyed by Parsons’ reading of it, dramatically complemented by Leon Russell’s superb piano work.
With the album’s release, a few more half-hearted gigs followed suit, along with a return to the studio to cut such C&W chestnuts as Haggard’s “Sing Me Back Home” and “Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down” and “Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down” and a transcendent take on the Bee Gees’ “To Love Somebody.” Soon after, missing gigs and showing up a mess one to many times, Parsons got his walking papers. “He had the talent. He had the spark,” Hillman sighs. “He had no discipline.”
Right away, Hillman round another new Southern guy in town, singer-songwriter Rick Roberts, a Florida native who’d moved West after graduating from college in South Carolina. In addition to collaborating with Hillman on material, he brought songs like “Colorado” and “Four Days of Rain” to the sessions for the band’s self-titled 1971 release. On it, the sound continued to move in the same direction the nascent Eagles were pursuing; Leadon would help them craft that style, arriving in time for the Eagles’ debut recording, released in 1972. Meanwhile, the Burritos were joined on one track by ex-Byrd Gene Clark, who contributed his lovely “Here Tonight,” upon which he sang lead as well.
By 1972, things were coming to an end for the group, with departures by Leadon and Kleinow, who was replaced by Al Perkins. Before long, Stephen Stills would recruit Hillman and Perkins for his new project, Manassas. Down the pike, Hillman would pursue a solo career as well as form other outfits, including the Desert Rose Band, which would score several country his. (A Rick Roberts led Burritos with all new members would continue on for a few years.)
To promote the group’s swansong, the live Last Of The Red Hot Burritos, A&M’s Chuck Cassell tracked down various members, including Parsons, for interviews. Earlier, Parson had complained about the latter-day Burritos, grousing that he felt like a “mother hen whose eggs had been broken.” But now, feeling circumspect, he raved about a new singing partner Hillman and Roberts had turned him on to. Spotting an undiscovered talent performing at a tiny Washington D.C., club, the two Burritos had contacted Parsons, who’d just returned from abroad. He’d been looking for a female duet partner, and this gal, Emmylou Harris, seemed perfect. Indeed, she was – as Parsons’ brilliant solo albums, GP and Grievous Angel, testify. (Sadly, after completing the second collaborative effort with Harris, Parsons died in the California desert at 26, his grave mark in New Orleans inscribed with a Burritos’ song title, Leadon’s “God’s Own Singer.”)
Just prior to meeting Cassell on that day in 1972, Parsons had reconvened with his old band for two incendiary nights, joining Hillman, Roberts, Gene Clark, Al Perkins and Michael Clarke for a pair of gigs in Baltimore and Charlotte, North Carolina. With all wrongs washed away, as only great music can do, the boys just got together and played – like the old days – for fun. A few days later, Cassell asked Parsons to put the Burritos into perspective. And what he had to say – judging from the Long Ryders, Rank + File, Steve Earle, Dwight Yoakam, Uncle Tupelo, the Jayhawks, the Waco Brothers, Whiskeytown, the list goes on and on – could possibly called a prophecy.
“I’d like to be able to come up with something that would be a really wonderful obituary for the Burrito Brothers,” Parsons mused, “but the idea will keep on going. It’s not like it’s dead or anything. Whether I do it or anybody else does it, it’s got to keep on going … it can exist anywhere.”
And so it goes.
- Holly George-Warren
February, 2000
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Yes, it’s true, we really did meet up in a bank in Beverly Hills around 1967. I had heard about this “new kid in town,” Gram Parsons, who wrote and sang country music.
And naturally having cut my teeth on traditional country music, we really hit it off. At that point in time, the Byrds were sort of spinning their wheels, having been reduced to Roger McGuinn and myself from the original lineup. As fate would have it, we were looking for another singer-guitarist to fill in until we decided which direction we were heading.
After our initial meeting in the teller line at the bank, I found out that Gram was sort of “drifting,” having just finished recording the “International Submarine Band.” McGuinn and I had already been leaning towards a more “country sound” with our previous release, Younger Than Yesterday, but the Submarine Band was really locked into the sound. I asked him if he wanted to come down to a rehearsal that night. He ended up staying with the Byrds for six or seven months.
One incident I will always remember, as the night started to wear down, Gram was fooling around with his guitar and he started to sing a Buck Owens song “Under Your Spell Again.” I immediately grabbed the Don Rich tenor part and that was it! Magic! This guy really did know the “good music.” It was about a year later that we put the band together. And that first year was the best. We were writing songs every morning, hanging out at “Nudies” in the afternoon and going to clubs every night to hear people like Delaney and Bonnie who were just starting out in a little bar in the valley.
It was a glorious time in Los Angeles! The music business was fresh and creative, it was exciting. You could literally drive across the L.A. basin and hear every conceivable style of music in one night. And we did just that, absorbing every little nuance along the way. The Burritos had soul and style very few, if any, will ever capture again.
- Chris Hillman
January, 2000
