Sweetheart of the Rodeo

Okay, so this is where the project breaks down (one review and one brief news article into FiveHundo, what a run) — this week’s choice is the Byrds’ sixth studio album, Sweetheart of the Rodeo. Starting Harry Potter on book six didn’t stop me enjoying Harry Potter, so why let this stop me enjoying the Byrds? As this is the first time I’ve really listened to the Byrds, I would be safe in assuming these guys are a country rock band. Wrong. These lads from Los Angeles were primarily genre-fluid. They had recently been messing with psychedelia. You may have heard one of their more popular songs, Turn! Turn! Turn!, probably during a montage in a movie where the protagonist is turning their life around. See what they did there? See the clichés we have been fed? Focusing on country rock was not received well. The album was not initially the success we all hoped it would be. It reached number 77 on the Billboard chart and there were some instances where playing live was met with the sort of hostility I face when visiting my in-laws.

At this junction I am forced to ask the question: “Is it possible to speed run the Byrds’ genre shifts?” It turns out it is if you use half your ass.

Welcome to FiveHundo’s first ever genre speed run:

1. Folk Rock: “Mr. Tambourine Man” 1965 - As long as there are no follow-up questions, this Bob Dylan cover has been considered part of the start line of the folk rock genre. The Byrds add their own flair to it thanks to the 12-string jangling guitar (Oh, like a tambourine. Neat.) The finish line of folk? Probably with the demise of humanity. However, the folk genre is a resilient genre, a strong genre. A sensual genre? Oh, the song has finished. Better move on.

Rating: 4 Tambourines out of 5 Men.

2. Psych/Raga Rock: “Eight Miles High” 1966 - The boys dropped the acoustic and sat cross-legged on rugs pretending their electric guitars were sitars. The classic 60s move, playing parts of the track backwards, sounds like it has made its way onto this composition. (The editor wants me to be careful about these sorts of wild claims.) Again, as long as there are no follow-up questions, the boys apparently invented psych rock too.

Rating: 7 Ragas out of 8 miles.

3. Space Rock: “Mr. Spaceman” 1966 - Seriously? They invented another genre? Mr. Spaceman was released in 1966 (literally, 60 years ago to the day of writing this article), and the music press did have to coin a term to describe the aforementioned genre. Space-rock was born. The song is about a close encounter with an alien, which was a departure from singing about astronauts, but rather the victims of astronauts. The Byrds really were holding a mirror up to society with our reckless space travel habits.

4 Mans out of the Great Vastness of Space.

4. Electronic Pop: “So You Want to Be a Rock ‘n’ Roll Star” 1967 - Cool, doesn’t look like they invented this genre. This punchy banger is a two-minute instructional on how to become a rock and roll star. I’m already at the “pants fit tight” step. I’m particularly fond of this track as it was, in part, a dig at the manufactured nature of the Monkees.

Rating: 4 Rock and Roll stars out of 5 Tight Pants.

5. Studio Avant-Garde/Baroque: “Draft Morning” 1968 - I’m not even going to attempt to explain this genre. That is too many syllables. However, the Byrds experimented with the juxtaposition of dreamy vocals and melodies alongside the real-world horrors of the Vietnam War. And the space invasion that appears to have been happening during the instrumental?

1 Draft out of 2 Mornings.

6. Country Rock: “You Ain’t Going Nowhere” 1968 - Finally, we have managed to boil down three or so years into twelve minutes and fifteen seconds of silly nonsense. Welcome to FiveHundo, take a seat.

0 Nowheres out of 0 Nowheres

“I’m truly unstoppable?”

The band appears to have had line-up changes prior to Sweetheart of the Rodeo, leaving an opening for newcomer Gram Parsons. A spritely young man obsessed with country music. Turns out Gram (short for Ingram, which would be a fun pun when ordering Nosés: “How would you like your coke?” “In grams.” - I’m truly unstoppable?) was very charismatic. Hired as a side musician, he managed to convince Roger McGuinn to fly the team to Nashville to record Sweetheart of the Rodeo. Unfortunately, the band were unable to bridge the divide between the fans of the two genres. Some felt it was too country for rock and too rock for country.

Then there was the incident of the Grand Ole Opry. For the ignorant amongst us (remember, I know nothing of these things until I start writing. Even then it's a bit iffy), the Grand Ole Opry was a regular show on stage in front of an audience and simulcast over the radio. Radio, for the young amongst the none of you reading this, is what your grandparents yelled racial abuse at while driving to their inexpensive homes from their cushy jobs. The Opry were reasonably conservative, and the hippy/anti-Vietnam War counterculture at the time was spreading across the States. While recording in Nashville, the Byrds were crowbarred into the Opry line-up. Record labels can be good at oh, pry-ing grand ole things open. The boys and their hippy look did not get the typical reception. They were heckled with horrid things like “tweet-tweet” and just regular “boo.” I dunno, this part isn’t that important. Anyway, our boy Ingram gets up on stage and deviates from the script, deciding to play his own song, Hickory Wind, rather than a cover of Life in Prison by Merle Haggard.

Fittingly, one of the songs that really spoke to me on Sweetheart was Life in Prison, a song about loving someone so much, their betrayal influences the protagonist to murder them. He begs the authorities to end his sorrow and regret, only to be given a far worse punishment: life in prison (oh that’s where the name comes from, smart), turning life from a gift to a burden. Welcome to the rat race, amirite? Five years later, Ingram was granted the request of the song's protagonist. Gram overdosed on morphine (with a tequila chaser), crashing out from the rat race at 26.

In conclusion, as far as I’m concerned, the Byrds are a country band. Harry Potter should be read 6, 3, 4, 1, 2, 6 (again), and 7. Don’t read 5, just read 6 twice. And no matter how much you love someone, don’t murder them.

Album 3/5 - long enough to cover a shorthaul flight.