The Flying Burrito Bros., "The Gilded Palace of Sin" (A&M, 1969)

Fans of the Byrds who had enjoyed the band's harmony-driven mixture of folk and rock were thrown a curve with the 1968 release of "Sweetheart of the Rodeo."

From the opening notes of the lively cover of Bob Dylan's "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere," the album plunges straight into territory that sounded more at home on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry than the band's regular stomping grounds of Southern California. In fact, the Byrds took a turn (albeit a rather ill-received one) at the fabled country music venue shortly after the album's release.

The stylistic shift can best be explained by the departure of David Crosby and the musical interests of his replacement. Gram Parsons came to the Byrds from a group called the International Submarine Band, which had fallen apart after recording one album, the barely noticed "Safe At Home." What the recording lacked in sales, it made up for with innovation: It's generally regarded as the start of country rock, the genre that later proliferated with top acts like the Eagles.

Even though he was brand-new to the Byrds, Gram managed to steer the rest of the band (by that time, Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman were the only remaining original members from three years previously) into testing the country-rock waters, and the result is what many consider to be the band's finest moment. That didn't translate to the charts, though, as "Sweetheart" stalled at No. 77.

Parsons didn't last much longer in the Byrds, parting ways after a British tour. Various sources have him either refusing to play scheduled concerts in South Africa or wanting to stick around in England and hang out with the Rolling Stones, or a combination of the two. What is certain is that Gram didn't need the money; he could always tap the trust fund set up for him as a member of the well-to-do Snively family, citrus-growing kingpins of Winter Haven, Fla.

His financial resources helped him launch his next project, the Flying Burrito Bros. He drafted Hillman, who'd bailed out of the birds, along with former bandmate Chris Ethridge and a well-regarded pedal steel guitar player (and award-winning animator) known as "Sneeky" Pete Kleinow. The result was a more fully realized version of the style of music Parsons had pioneered with the International Submarine Band, and the Burritos' debut album serves as a stellar document of his vision.

Both the title and cover art of "The Gilded Palace of Sin" suggest a bunch of guys who are determined to bring down civilization as we know it. Check out the cannabis sativa design on Gram's custom-tailored suit, or the two lady-of-the-night types who appear to be ready for who knows what with the band.

But much of the music sounds surprisingly mellow, as Parsons capitalizes on his strongest asset: his heart-melting voice. Exhibit No. 1 is "Hot Burrito #1," a song he co-wrote with Ethridge about seeing a first love with someone else. "He may feel all your charms, he may hold you in his arms/But I'm the one who let you in, I was right beside you then" - listen to that, and see if it doesn't bring back memories of that girl who got away.

"Hot Burrito #2" (gotta love those song titles) is a bit peppier, with Pete's virtuoso playing helping drive another love song that seems to be a bit more optimistic, but still carries some ominous undertones: "And you won't be home all night, and you don't want another fight/But you'd better love me."

The title of the album is drawn from what probably is the best-known Burritos song, "Sin City," a warning about the dangers of an unnamed metropolis (which really was Los Angeles). The lyrics just might have served as inspiration for the original "Walking Tall": "A friend came around, tried to clean up this town/His ideas made some people mad." Watch the movie and see for yourself.

The opening track, "Christine's Tune," is of some historical significance: Parsons and Hillman wrote it about the late Christine Frka, a member of the GTOs, the all-female band (using that term loosely) recorded by Frank Zappa around 1969. The song is better known today by the alternative title "Devil in Disguise," the operative phrase of the catchy chorus.

A couple of covers, "Do Right Woman" and "Dark End of the Street," serve as showcases for Parsons' vocals. Three other originals - "Wheels," "Juanita" and "Do You Know How It Feels" - further the band's cause of melding country and rock.

"The Gilded Palace of Sin" also include a couple of late-'60s period pieces. The humorous "My Uncle" tells of what happens when the singer receives a letter from his draft board, causing him to muse that "Vancouver might be just my kind of town." And the closing number, "Hippie Boy," is mostly an oratory about an incident at the 1968 Democratic convention, with a whole bevy of folks joining in for the final chorus in a suitable display of anarchy.

Like "Safe at Home" and "Sweetheart of the Rodeo," the Burritos' debut failed to set the charts on fire, and the band managed to squander lots of A&M Records' cash during a less-than-successful followup tour. The band's highest-profile gig was at the Altamont racetrack in December 1969; fortunately, the Burritos played before the free concert deteriorated into violence and murder, as documented in the Maysles Brothers' harrowing "Gimme Shelter."

Parsons split from the Burritos the following year, around the release of "Burrito Deluxe," an album that has its moments - including a gorgeous version of the Stones' "Wild Horses" - but as a whole, doesn't stack up to "Gilded Palace." The rest of the band stuck together for a while, split up, re-formed and continued that pattern for decades, probably to this day.

As for Gram Parsons, a brief solo career and early death awaited. But that deserves its own story.