FLORIDA: He Sure Could Sing

Gram Parsons, like Citizen Kane and Netflix, is actually deserving of the praise he receives. Founder of the International Submarine Band and the Flying Burrito Brothers, nominal but essential member of the country-era Byrds, and Keith Richards drug buddy, Parsons' short discography has made him a pinup boy for slobbering rock critics everywhere.

And why shouldn't it? The man wrote "Hickory Wind," rescued the Byrds from irrelevance during his four-month guest appearance, and introduced us to Emmylou Harris. He did it all without reaching his 27th birthday.

It's funny that Parsons' music has been labeled "country rock," when the only thing rock about it is his haircut. Ben Ratliff of the New York Times has suggested that the only difference between Merle Haggard and his druggier descendants is the aggressiveness of their drummers. This may be true of the late troubadour's live performances (recently captured on Live at the Avalon Ballroom 1969), but his studio recordings are a mellower, twangier affair. They're more country than anything you'll hear on contemporary country radio.

Parsons' voice could wobble and wander off key here and there, carrying equal doses of sweetness and hurt. Born in Winter Haven, Florida, Parsons lost his father at age 12. Fifteen years later, we lost Gram. As fellow Burrito Bernie Leadon sang in "My Man": "...his song came from deep down inside/ You could hear it in his voice, and see it in his eyes."

And with our second Bernie Leadon name-drop of the week, we come full circle in our appreciation of Florida. Florida: a musical legacy almost as big as its insects.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "She" by Gram Parsons
AVAILABLE ON: GP/Grievous Angel; iTunes