The Byrds: “Sweetheart of the Rodeo”

1968 was a phenomenal year for music. The White Album, Electric Ladyland, Odyssey and Oracle, Astral Weeks, The Village Green Preservation Society, and Live at Folsom Prison were all released, and Woodstock was only months away. The creative force of that year is overwhelming – so much so that several albums tend to go relatively unnoticed. The Byrds’ Sweetheart of the Rodeo is one of them.

The Byrds were busy in 1968. They released two full-length albums: The Notorious Byrd Brothers, a representation of the band at the height of their venture into psychedelics, and Sweetheart of the Rodeo. At the time Sweetheart was in the making, The Byrds’ lineup was changing (yet again). David Crosby and Michael Clarke had quit the band halfway through sessions for Notorious, and both Gram Parsons and Kevin Kelley were brought in. Sweetheart, according to Byrds frontman Roger McGuinn, was originally supposed to be a musical summary of American popular music thus far. However, with the everchanging lineup of the band, especially the inclusion of Gram Parsons, the album grew into The Byrds’ product of complete immersion in country music.

Both country and folk music were undergoing big changes. Artists like Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, and the Byrds were dealing with the tension between the roots of American music and the direction it was heading. Folk tunes were turning into trippy concept songs and country standards were becoming canvases for musicians to paint over with whatever sound they thought was entirely new. And, through all this change, The Byrds met in Los Angeles and Nashville to record what would become a pure country record.

When I heard Sweetheart for the first time, I was immediately drawn to how honest it was. The Byrds made it very clear that they were not out to revolutionize music, but were rather intent on working with what had come before them. Out of Sweetheart‘s eleven tracks, only two were original songs: Parsons’ “Hickory Wind” and Parsons/Buchanan’s “One Hundred Years From Now.” The other tracks are Byrds renditions of songs written by Bob Dylan, Woody Guthrie, Merle Haggard, and others.

Consequently, the overall message of the album may have come across as dated. While Hendrix was recording “1983…(A Merman I Should Turn to Be),” a thirteen minute track on a double album, and The Beatles were recording “Revolution 9,” an eight minute track also on a double album, The Byrds were putting together their version of “The Christian Life,” a simple two minute song written by the Louvin brothers.

Still, it was the 60s and many people were terrified of hippies and the change they represented. Songs like “The Christian Life” didn’t exempt the Byrds from their fair share of disgust. In March, 1968, The Byrds played the Grand Ole Opry, country music’s mecca – they were booed from the moment they walked on stage and were asked to never come back. So now, you have a band that is too conservative for their one-time fans and too radical for country folks.

On paper, Sweetheart seems like an unoriginal record doomed from the start. But the record’s charm is irresistible. Every song has something to offer. “You Don’t Miss Your Water” is an anecdotal ballad that can bring you to tears. A recording of “One Hundred Years From Now” should be mandatory for anyone wanting to learn how to play pedal steel guitar. And I dare anyone to listen to “You Got a Reputation” without feeling empowered – trust me, it’s impossible.

The Byrds released Sweetheart of the Rodeo at a seemingly disastrous time, but in retrospect, it was not only fitting, it was necessary. Within the mob of revolution, The Byrds were a reminder of where American music came from and, more importantly, they offered a sense of stability to anyone experiencing firsthand a country at the pinnacle of an identity crisis.