Gram Parsons 'Archive Volume 1' album

Amoeba Records will release a major addition to Gram Parsons' discography with the ‘Gram Parsons Archive Volume 1,’ due in October, from the newly formed label. The two CD, 27-track set includes a number of never-before-heard -- though long rumored -- rarities. The Flying Burrito Brothers opened for the Grateful Dead April 4, 5 and 6, 1969 at the Avalon Ballroom in San Francisco. The April 4th show has never been heard in any form.

The bonus disc is the April 6th show. For years these tapes were rumored to exist and were finally unearthed in the Grateful Dead vault. The shows were recorded by the legendary sound engineer Bear (Owsley Stanley), and are the highest quality Gram Parsons live material ever available.

Amoeba Records, started by the owners of the revered independent record store of the same name, is launching with the August 28 release of smoky-voiced singer and songwriter Brandi Shearer’s ‘Close to Dark.’ The album is co-produced by Larry Klein.

Rarities on the ‘Gram Parsons Archive Volume 1’ include Gram’s unique choice of mainly country standards, which are not on any other official Gram Parsons recording:

Undo The Right/Somebody’s Back In Town
She Once Lived Here
Mental Revenge
We’ve Got To Get Ourselves Together
Lucille
You Win Again
Long Black Limousine
Sweet Dream Baby
When Will I Be Loved

biography
“One hundred years from this day will the people still feel this way?
Still say the things that they’re saying right now?
Everyone said I’d hurt you, they said that I’d desert you.
If I go away, you know I’m gonna get back some how.”
-GRAM PARSONS

He promised us that he would get back some how, and with help from Grateful Dead archivist Owsley “Bear” Stanley and Amoeba Records’ co-founder Dave Prinz he has. The beautiful voice of the late Gram Parsons will be heard again with the release of Gram Parsons Archives Vol.1: The Flying Burrito Brothers Live at the Avalon 1969.

The birth of the 21st century brought a resurgence of appreciation for Gram’s music. Old material was reissued, repackaged and re-sequenced, multiple books were written about his life, and the 2003 film, Grand Theft Parsons, told the story of the interesting events immediately following his untimely death. Furthermore, Gram’s daughter Polly threw two amazing tribute concerts for her father and released some stellar vintage footage of them on the 2005 DVD, Return to Sin City: A Tribute to Gram Parsons. In 2006, Emmylou Harris and Rhino Records’ James Austin produced a documentary chronicling Gram’s life entitled, Gram Parsons: Fallen Angel.

This new appreciation of Gram’s work cultured some disparaging dissent amongst a handful of critics, as it’s very easy to dismiss Gram as just a rich kid with rock star aspirations. After all, he was a Rolling Stones groupie, a hipster, and he partied way too much – making him seem unworthy of all his accolades. Essentially, Gram was human, and myth makers seldom like their heroes and icons to reflect the human characteristics of us mere mortals. Fulfilling the Ecclesiastes passage immortalized by The Byrds, perhaps there was a time to cast such stones.

These incredible recordings mark the dawn of a new season of appreciation for Gram Parsons. Gram Parsons Archive Vol. 1s: The Flying Burrito Brothers Live at the Avalon 1969 has surfaced to remind us that Gram deserves the title etched on his High Desert grave: “God’s Own Singer.” In these exquisitely preserved recordings, Gram’s voice is mixed well enough to hear the heartache in the fragile timbre of his subtle inflections, as well as the fiery soul that longed for peace, love and understanding in his world and ours. Just listen to his version of “Long Black Cadillac” and try not to feel something when Gram’s voice breaks at all the right moments!

“The thing about this tape is that it’s some of Gram’s best singing I’ve ever heard, including studio recordings,” says Dave Prinz. “You can really hear the subtleties and nuances of some of the most beautiful singing that he’s ever done. That’s a true gift.”

Prinz adds, “But it’s not just a celebration of Gram Parsons. These recordings also showcase the amazing chemistry that thrived in the Flying Burrito Brothers. This set, recorded while the band was still high off the sessions that produced The Gilded Palace of Sin, shows the Burritos burning with their raw authentic energy and sound. It’s one of the seminal moments in the creation of country rock and the California sound, and this marks the first time since 1969 that the songs will be heard again. This is a milestone event.”

As it turns out, finding these long lost tapes and getting the clearance to release them was somewhat of a milestone as well. The recordings came from the Grateful Dead vault shortly before its contents were procured by Rhino Records. Prinz explains, “There had been rumors for decades that there was some Gram Parsons stuff in the Dead vault, but it had never been verified. And about two years ago Joel Selvin, who is a good friend of ours, heard about our project and got us into the Dead vault. We got to go in there before Rhino bought it. It’s a big room just overflowing with Dead tapes! And everything is catalogued. It’s all there. I was like…oh my God. There are like 16,000 hours of Dead - which if you do the math is about two-and-a-half years of music. And I’m just looking for three hours of Gram! So when we got there they have “Long Black Limousine” cued up. And here’s a version I’ve never heard. And it’s just beautiful. The whole performance is. And at this point I realize that this has to come out for people to hear. It is the best sounding live Burritos that I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard a lot. This version of ‘You’re Still On My Mind’ is maybe the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard Gram sing.”

“Hearing these recordings and releasing them to the public are two very different tasks,” Prinz admits, “This was the hardest project I’ve ever done in my life. We’re just lucky that Bear taped opening acts. That’s the real story. Everybody taped the Dead, but only Bear taped the opening acts. If he liked them, he kept them. In 1969 the Burritos opened for the Dead at the Avalon Ballroom and thankfully, Bear kept the recordings well intact.”

Prinz explained how over the years, Bear had been burned by so many shady music industry types that he had no other choice but to keep the Dead vaults heavily guarded. Prinz wrote up a contract asking Bear to let him put out this one recording as the first release on his new Amoeba Records roster.

“I showed the contract to one of Bear’s friends and he said, ‘You can’t do that! That’s way too legal!’ So getting Bear to sign that contract was the last key to unlocking these recordings to the public. But he wouldn’t sign. Months and months go by and I’m trying to make this my mission. And I can’t do it. More months go by and Bear’s still not signing and I’m getting so frustrated, but I don’t know what to do. And then a miracle happened.”

At the time Prinz was simultaneously embarking upon a gypsy jazz project with David Grisman and his business partner Craig Miller.

“I’m having lunch with Craig Miller and venting my frustrations and Miller says, ‘I can get Bear to sign that contract in one day.’ And I said, ‘You can do that?!?’ And he says, ‘David [Grisman] has asked me to do that. He wants to help you.’ That was the nicest thing I’ve ever heard in my life! And the next day, just like he said, I swear to God, I had the contract faxed and signed with Bear’s big beautiful signature. I understand and respect that it was a very guarded situation – the kind of situation where somebody had to vouch for me. And somebody did. Those guys were so cool to do that and I’ll never be able to thank them enough.”

Prinz also had the blessing of Flying Burrito Brother Chris Etheridge.

“Chris is the nicest guy in the world. He’s so supportive and he wants us to do this. He wants to honor Gram and his time with the Flying Burrito Brothers. He wants to be a part of this.”

And if a green light could shine even brighter, it was Gram’s daughter Polly who gave her blessings for the release of these recordings.

“The first time I heard this music, I was incredibly electrified and excited.” Polly adds, “Gram is quite thoroughly alive and well in this offering.”

Gram Parsons Archives Vol. 1: The Flying Burrito Brothers Live at the Avalon 1969 is scheduled to be released soon on Amoeba’s new record label. The 25-track set was recently discovered in the Grateful Dead vaults and has never before been made available to the public. Fans of Gram and The Flying Burrito Brothers will for the first time be able to hear them cover Hank Cochran’s “Undo the Right” and Autry Inman’s “She Once Lived Here.” There are two home demo bonus tracks: “Thousand Dollar Wedding” and “When will I Be Loved” from Jimmi Seider’s vault.

But here’s the kicker. This will be just the first in a series of Gram related offerings from Amoeba Records’ new label.

You heard it here first. The Grievous Angel shall return again.

By: Eric Shea

LINER NOTES
Quite often, people ask me, “What is your favorite band of all time?” expecting me to say Led Zeppelin or the Stones. The Mothers of Invention? Jimi Hendrix, perhaps? My one and only answer usually surprises them: The Flying Burrito Brothers. I have literally been waiting for this album to appear for decades.

One of my favorite claims to fame is that except for their consummate road manager, Jimmi Seiter, I have been to more Burrito Brothers shows than anyone else on the planet. I didn’t miss a single gig in Los Angeles, and would hitchhike hundreds of miles to swoon over “Do Right Woman” or “Hot Burrito #1,” afraid I might miss the most heart-wrenching versions yet. Even at eighteen, I knew something very special was going on and I didn’t want to miss a single momentous note. Listening to this oh-so-alive music once more has been an extremely heady experience, taking me down to the dance floor over and over again.

The best thing about this remarkable trek back to San Francisco, 1969, is just how perfectly it captures the live Burritos experience, beginning with their usual rousing opening number, “Close Up The Honky Tonks.” It’s overwhelming to hear the medley “Undo The Right/Somebody’s Back In Town” again—the ideal country combo. And “Sin City” sounds exactly like I heard it played so many times. In my opinion, this original incarnation of the band is the truest—Gram, Chris, Sneaky Pete, Chris Ethridge, and the ever-adorable Mike Clarke. You can really hear Hillman’s pure, sweet harmonies, accenting Gram’s plaintive melodies just right. And Sneaky Pete’s psychedelic, oft-imitated, innovative pedal steel breaks all the rules, loud and clear. Close your eyes and you can almost see the rhinestones twinkle on their scandalous Nudie suits while the trippy-hippie light show swirls ’round and ’round.

I was fortunate enough to see the short-lived version of the Byrds at the Kaleidoscope on Sunset, featuring the newest member, Gram Parsons, and witnessed the birth of a brand-spankin’-new sound. Chris Hillman had put his mandolin and penchant for bluegrass on the back burner, fired up again after fortuitously meeting the like-minded country boy in line at the bank. The sold-out Hollywood audience that night was dumfounded. The result seemed to surprise even Roger McGuinn, and it would eventually shake up the rock world, but acceptance of what Gram called “Cosmic American Music” was slow in coming.

After Gram refused to tour with the Byrds in South Africa due to apartheid, the Southern upstart was promptly fired. Shortly afterward, Chris Hillman quit the band, Gram contacted him immediately, and the Flying Burrito Brothers started making history.

Some nights only a handful of country-loving diehards showed up at the Palomino Club or the Troubadour to revel in the long-haired, soulful strum and twang, but it only seemed to fire up the Burritos. Gram had a laser-beam focus, determined to bring together seemingly disparate types of music—country, blues, and rock—to create a sound that is now as accepted and familiar as he believed it would be.

The recently discovered treasure you hold in your hands has the Burritos opening for The Grateful Dead at the Avalon Ballroom, and features a plethora of daring cover tunes, from Hank Williams’ “You Win Again” to George Jones’ “She Once Lived Here.” There’s even a raucous take on Waylon Jennings’ wicked “Sweet Mental Revenge,” long before he joined forces with Willie and became an outlaw. It’s hard to imagine these selections being controversial today, but trust me, in the late ’60s it was a prescient, dramatic, cheeky move.

I had always thought of country music as lame and corny, played by backwoods guys with crew cuts, until Gram sat me down with a fat joint and played me albums by Merle Haggard, Waylon, and George Jones, the man he called “The King Of Broken Hearts.” I instantly understood his passion for honky-tonk, and am eternally grateful to him for enlightening me so profoundly. More than once I saw Gram weep while singing “She Once Lived Here,” tears sliding down his face, his voice cracking—“I see her face in the cool of the evening/I hear her voice in each breeze loud and clear.”

I was crazy about Chris Hillman, and Gram soon became a true-blue pal. Along with Miss Mercy, (one of the girls in my group, the GTO’s), I was invited to several The Gilded Palace Of Sin recording sessions. We both happily warbled off-key on the chorus of the stoner song, “Hippie Boy,” feeling very honored indeed. I became an honorary “Burrito Sister,” and was privy to the real tales behind the tunes. I knew, for instance, that Gram’s love, Nancy, refused to call him “old man,” because she felt he was too young at age 23 for such a term. She called him her “old boy,” which wound up as a lyric in the stunning “Hot Burrito #1.” I also knew Gram was concerned that calling out “Jesus Christ!” on “Hot Burrito #2” might keep the song from being played on the radio, which, sadly, turned out to be wishful thinking. I saw the Burritos off at the station when they left on their infamous train tour, and patiently waited for postcards and phone calls, playing their first album incessantly until they came back again.

I was there at the Avalon Ballroom that intoxicating night in April of ’69. For awhile I had the dance floor to myself, twirling alone to the cheating R&B song “Dark End Of The Street” and the soul-shaking Delaney and Bonnie tune “Get Ourselves Together.” Some of the tie-dyed, head-banded Grateful Dead fans seemed to appreciate the new blend of sounds, but I still felt like I was in on a thrilling secret.
Even though this band has influenced more musicians than can ever be counted, the Flying Burrito Brothers are still somewhat of a secret—a secret I’m glad you’re in on.

It’s an intoxicating honor to have the Burritos sing me back home with songs I used to hear, making my old memories come so brilliantly alive.

—Pamela Des Barres

I’ll never forget the first time I heard Gram Parsons. The year was 1969, the place, Queens, New York. I was sixteen. My friend John Nelson had just purchased The Gilded Palace Of Sin at E.J Korvettes and insisted that I have a listen. “What is this crap?” I responded. “This is country. I can’t listen to this—it’s so uncool.” Yet I was drawn to it like a moth to a tire fire. And I have never been the same. So, here we are, almost forty years later, with some of the best unheard material from my favorite band and singer ever. And if my old friend John Nelson is out there—buddy, do I have something for you to listen to.

If you have a minute, I’ll tell you about the incredible chain of events that had to unfold in order for this CD to have reached your ears.

First, I needed to meet Gram’s daughter, Polly Parsons, and convince her that I was just crazy enough to take this on. Thanks to Rik Sanchez, Shilah Morrow, and Tim Easton for the introduction. We had lunch at Gram’s old haunt, the Chateau Marmont, where many magical things happen. We talked about how long it had been since any fresh material of Gram’s had come out and how it was time. Polly could see by the pinwheels in my eyes that I was her man. At the end of the day Polly invited me to her wedding, a beautiful occasion, and we’ve been friends and partners ever since.

Next we needed to find something good enough to release. Was there anything extraordinary out there that had never surfaced? Well, there were rumors for many years that there was some great GP material in the Dead vault taped by the Dead’s sound engineer and master taper of his generation, Owsley Stanley, aka “Bear.” The problem was that no one had ever heard them. Then, one day, I got a call from Joel Selvin, music journalist and friend of the Dead. He wanted to know if I’d like to meet him at the Dead vault the next day to hear what they had. “Well, hell, yes!” I said. When we got there, the Dead’s archivist, David Lemieux, was there to greet us. The Dead vault was truly unbelievable, as almost every show the Dead ever played was chronologically arranged on shelf after shelf from 1966 all the way through the ’90s. David explained how there were over 16,000 hours of Dead material in the vault (that’s about two-and-a-half years’ worth). But I was more interested in the possible four or five hours of Gram.

The first song David played for us was “Long Black Limousine” from April 4, 1969 when the Flying Burrito Brothers opened for the Dead at San Francisco’s famous Avalon Ballroom. I had never heard this show—nobody
had in 38 years. As I pressed my ear to the speaker, Gram’s voice, so clear and pure, sang “The Papers Told Of How You Lost Your Life”—and it was like he was in the room with me. The tapes existed. Gram was telling me that I had found them.
Now all I had to do was license them from Bear. “Just one problem with that,” David pointed out. “Bear hasn’t licensed anything out of his personal vault since 1970.”

And so for almost a year, I tried to work something out with Bear, but it seemed like it was not to be, for, try as I might, he simply wouldn’t sign. He could not be tempted by money and had trust issues with all but his immediate family.

Bear was a one hundred lock box that I realized I would never be able to open without some divine help. It appeared that these tapes might be lost forever, never to be heard again, when something amazing happened: that something amazing was David Grisman.

While working on a Gypsy Jazz album with David, which was way cool, I happened to mention the Gram project and Bear’s tapes. David asked me how it was going with Bear. When I replied, “Not so good” David suggested that I call his manager Craig Miller who might be able to help.

Craig confirmed that it wouldn’t matter what I did—Bear wouldn’t sign. I sighed resignedly. He asked me how long I’d been trying. I told him about a year. Then he said the most beautiful, mellifluous words I have ever heard since Nixon announced the end of the draft. He said, “I can get Bear to sign off in a day.” “What day would that be?”

I queried, “New Year’s Day, 2050?”

“No, really, I can,” Craig said. He went on to tell me that Bear wanted to release an Old & In The Way box set with his tapes. They’d been putting him off, but he was confident that Bear would sign off on Gram if they signed off on his project. “But, Craig,” I said, “you don’t even want to do this box set. I can’t ask you to do this for me.” Then Craig said the sweetest, kindest words and the reason we’re all here today: “But we are,” he said. “We were probably going to do the box set sooner or later anyway, and we feel your project is important. David and I are
going to help you.”

And the next day, Craig Miller faxed me a copy of our contract with Bear’s signature on it. It was elegant and beautiful, and I regarded it as an autograph collector might regard a Caesar. But one Bear meant more to me than all the Caesars in the world. For one Bear meant that these beautiful recordings would finally be heard and not lost in the flames of oblivion forever. So, thanks again, Bear. These tapes are a true blessing for any Gram fan.

Now, listen to the CDs and enjoy. They’re everything that Bear captured from the April 4 and April 6 Avalon shows in the exact order that they were played those nights. They have been beautifully remastered by Bear’s engineer of choice, Paul Stubblebine. And a big shout out to Paul for all his hard work and the great job he did.

Also included are two additional tracks, not taped by Bear: a beautiful demo of “Thousand Dollar Wedding” taped at Jimmi Seiter’s house in 1969 and a version of “When Will I Be Loved,” taped sometime in 1967. Thanks to Jimmi for these two tracks, and look for more cool stuff from Jimmi’s vault in upcoming archive volumes.

Signing off for now. Your pal in all things GRAM,

Dave Prinz

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Gram Parsons - Archive Volume 1