the only non-indigenous group compositions and they both work beautifully within the whole. Indeed, Parsons' melodic evocation of a former love, with its sensuous lyric imagery that specifically recalls the atmosphere of an enchanted relationship, provides the base on which the album's magnificent centerpiece, the nine-and-a-half-minute title cut, by Richie Furay, resides.
"Crazy Eyes," whose lyrics allude directly to Parsons', is a gorgeous, often violent commentary on the insanity that accompanies romantic passion, it's aura of suicidal desperation, its blindness that permits a greater truth wherein the identities of the partners, the "you" and "I" are almost inseparable and hence mutually destructive. Though it is a song of few words, the words resonate, and the extended instrumental breaks between verses embody some of the most furiously eloquent musical commentary on the subject of love that I can recall. Richie's vocal is piercingly rendered, the vocal harmonies that join him spare and anguished.
To the already dense instrumental texture created by Poco, Bob Ezrin and Alan MacMillan have supplemented brass and string arrangements that are periodically broken by the slow strumming of a banjo. These elements segue into a strong, ominous bass line that is the stuff of pure rock with clashing cymbals and searing multiple guitars overhead. This accumulating, ominous force is again broken by moments of ethereal suspension in soaring vocal phrases that break back into desperately propulsive instrumentation ... and so on. Simply by itself, "Crazy Eyes" is a great rock musical description of emotional conflict. Cale's "Magnolia," which follows, is the antidote ... impressionistic nostalgia that is romantic without being mawkish.
Everything on side one leads up to the crisis/catharsis of "Crazy Eyes." Paul Cotton's two streamlined rockers, "Blue Water" and "A Right Along," provide the album's only moments of social didacticism. "Blue Water," the opener, is an engaging anti-pollution song that is strongly melodic and tightly constructed, with fine instrumental work by all hands. "A Right Along," a heavier rocker, skillfully inveighs against institutionalized fantasies, while expressing a strongly positive message. In betwe
There's a little Gram Parsons worship going on inside this album, but we don't mind at all. In fact, the title track was written in tribute to the late, great Grievous Angel, and the band's cover of his "Brass Buttons" is as timeless as the original. The mercurial version of J.J. Cale's "Magnolia" is truly beautiful.
