When most people are asked what kind of music they like a typical response is, "I pretty much like everything, except country." On the whole, I'd usually agree, though it's difficult and somewhat ignorant to dismiss an entire genre of music.
Yeah, most backwater country sucks ass. You won't get too much of an argument from me, but as they say, there are exceptions to every rule.
This week's four-play features an artist most music snobs are familiar with, but the general public may not recognize. Maybe it's because of his early demise (somewhat unceremoniously with an ice cube jammed up his ass). Here's the story of a rich Florida kid with big dreams of stardom. He got a little, but unfortunately along with it came a somewhat fatal drug habit. Dumb ass...
Gram Parsons (1946-1973), country-rock legend, rode the wrong kind of horse. Before his smack addled corpse dropped dead somewhere in Yucca Valley, California, he left a few good sh*t-kickin' country rock albums behind - in collaboration with The Byrds, in the Flying Burrito Brothers and a couple of solo efforts.
Peel open a can of Pabst, kick the dog, beat the wife and gas up the truck. Most of all, enjoy.
Flying Burrito Brothers Christine's Tune
Flying Burrito Brothers Sin City
Gram Parsons A Song For You
Gram Parsons Ooh Las Vegas