Record Needles in the Camel’s iPod

It was 35 years ago today, in a lonely motel room out in the deserts of Joshua Tree, California that the original and greatest light of country-rock quietly flickered out.

Gram Parsons had only reached the age of 26 and his music career - though it included redirecting the flight of the Byrds, founding Flying Burrito Brothers, collaborating with the Rolling Stones and discovering a singer named Emmylou Harris - had largely been viewed as a wash: one with potential that was never fully realized.

These 35 years have proven that completely wrong. It’s hard to imagine Gram Parsons’ legacy looming any larger. Most importantly, the music not only still stands up but so many of his songs have come to be the standards for any rock band trying to play or vice versa.

As the years passed, Gram Parsons almost took on the aura of a Christ-figure of country-rock circles. Time has spun the Parsons story as if he had to come, taught everyone the way and the truth and then had to be martyred, nailed to a cross of booze and morphine. Maybe he was! If not, it sure makes a great rock and roll story.

I’ve spent years poring over Parsons’ recorded legacy and taking in the mythology but when trying to summarize it, I know I can’t quite do it justice.

Luckily, David Meyer can.

After a steady stream of Parsons bios in over the past couple decades - from worthy souls like Ben Fong-Torres, Sid Griffin and even Parson’s own daughter Polly - but Meyer’s Twenty Thousand Roads: The Ballad of Gram Parsons and His Cosmic American Music (Random House) might be the one to top them all. It’s just out in paperback and is highly recommended for diving into the legacy and lore of one of the genuine pioneers of American music.

For tonight - throw down a shot of tequila and throw on that copy of Sweetheart of the Rodeo, Gilded Palace of Sin, Grievous Angel or whatever your favorite Gram record is. Hell, do yourself a favor and play them all!