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

FLORIDA: Bet You No One Ever Looked at the Bass Player

First, let's be clear: there is no such person known as "Blondie." Unless you count the title character of a comic strip that everyone should have stopped reading in 1936. But with her peroxide halo, singer Debbie Harry sure fit the name of her famous band. As the 1970s faded, the acclaimed new wave act abandoned their edgier sound for something poppier and more radio-friendly, even embracing disco ("Heart of Glass") and hip-hop ("Rapture"). The latter proved that if you rap as badly as Debbie Harry, you damn well better look like Debbie Harry.

But before that, on their first two albums, Harry and her cohorts rocked like the CBGB regulars they were. If you need further evidence of Miami native Harry's new wave/punk credentials, she went on to appear in a failed Broadway play with legendary provocateur Andy Kaufman. Remember: if it's not profitable, it's punk.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "X Offender" by Blondie
AVAILABLE ON: Blondie

FLORIDA: When Gregg Allman Thinks You Drink Too Much, You Have a Problem

The Allman Brothers Band formed in Macon, Georgia. The eponymous siblings hailed from Nashville, drummers Butch Trucks and Jai Johnny Johanson were from Florida and Mississippi, respectively, and second guitarist/vocalist Dickey Betts was born in West Palm Beach. Maybe this is how the group so effortlessly mastered, you could even say designed, southern rock as we know it. They assembled the most diverse group of white, Christian, long-haired southerners possible.

Though known for their interminable jams, which are either tedious or awesome, depending on how stoned you are, the group possessed some sharp songwriting skills. Many of their most memorable pop hits came courtesy of Betts. The Florida-born guitarist composed "Ramblin' Man," "Jessica," and "Blue Sky." After the 1971 death of lead guitarist Duane Allman, Betts assumed more leadership of the group, and was the driving creative force behind the classic album Eat a Peach.

Betts was booted from the band in 2000 after years of conflict with Gregg Allman. He continues to tour and remind people of who he is.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "Blue Sky" by the Allman Brothers Band
AVAILABLE ON: Eat a Peach; iTunes

FLORIDA: He Wants to Push Me Down? Let's See Him Try

The last turn of a century provided us with some of the most boring rock music not created in Tom Scholz's basement ever. "Alternative rock", the ridiculously-named genre created to explain the likes of Nirvana and Soundgarden, had sputtered and nearly died. This is the era that gave us Creed, the band that pulled off the remarkable feat of being both overblown and mind-numbingly dull. We also got groups with names like Third Eye Blind and Vertical Horizon; names that make you think for a second, and then make you mad you thought about them.

One of the most massively successful groups of this era was Orlando's own Matchbox 20. Though their music could fall victim to the alternative rock blandness du jour ("If You're Gone"), I always felt the songwriting of leader Rob Thomas was a cut above. It doesn't take a lot to be better than Eve 6, but it's something, and Matchbox 20 were able to craft some memorable tunes.

Thomas' voice was another reason they stood out. His rich, slightly raspy bellow could sound both soulful and hard-edged, sensitive and angry. It's the same voice that lead Santana's "Smooth" to three Grammy awards, and earned it a place in the Don't Hate it Just Because It's Played to Death Hall of Fame. (First inductee: "Hotel California.")

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "Mad Season" by Matchbox 20
AVAILABLE ON: Mad Season; iTunes

FLORIDA: But What Inspired His Cameo in "The Postman"?

This week we turn our attention to the Sunshine State. Florida is home to such spectacular attractions as Disneyworld, Seaworld, and of course, the Burt Reynolds and Friends Museum. Most think of Florida as a giant, obscenely-shaped resting home for America's infirm. This is unfair. It is also miserably hot and the elections are rigged.

Our sweaty southern belle does have one virtue, though: Florida has been an important contributor to rock and roll music. Southern rock wouldn't be the same without some of Florida's native sons and daughters. I use the term "southern rock" here instead of the oft-uttered "country rock" because "country rock" ignores the influence of blues and gospel music that informs so much of the music of the American south. I can't imagine Elvis Presley without the influence of Hank Williams, but his existence would be even harder to explain without Arthur Crudup or the Blackwood Brothers.

Speaking of the King, we begin our musical tour of Florida with one lucky kid from Gainesville. When production on one of Presley's many interchangeable star vehicles came to nearby Ocala, a skinny 11-year-old named Thomas Earl Petty was, via a well-connected uncle, allowed to visit the set and meet briefly with Elvis. Afterwards Petty was, in his own words, "a changed man," and decided that being like Elvis Presley was a reasonable goal for even the most large-toothed of Floridian children. And the title of the Elvis flick that made it all happen? Follow That Dream.

14 years later, Tom Petty's band Mudcrutch relocated to Los Angeles, only to dissolve. Petty soon formed a new band, the Heartbreakers, with Mudcrutch alums Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench, plus fellow Florida evacuees Ron Blair and Stan Lynch.

The Mudcrutch story has another chapter, though. On April 29, a reunited Mudcrutch will release their self-titled debut LP. The album features Petty, Campbell, Tench, drummer Randall Marsh and guitarist Tom Leadon (brother of Bernie, of Eagles fame). A brief tour will accompany the band's reunion. So far, no Florida dates have been set.

TODAY'S RECOMMENDATION: "Up in Mississippi Tonight" by Mudcrutch.
AVAILABLE ON: Tom Petty's Playback boxed set