The Byrds "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" [1968]

Music of the 60s has plenty of cautionary tales, but none with so many wrapped up in one body of music as The Byrds' "Sweetheart of the Rodeo." Alienating their fan base and destroying any chance of remaining on the charts, these psychedelic pop folksters veer inexplicably toward country music, screwing the pooch and killing the golden goose at once. They were subsequently derided by Nashville purists: "Yew laughing' at us, hippie-boys?" Essentially the band was hijacked by headstrong country and drug/alcohol enthusiast Gram Parsons (who partied so hard he made David Crosby look like Donny Osmond) when he rode this wagon train into a manure-filled ditch, then split the band and left them there. Why Roger McGuinn didn't hire Johnny Cash to come slap the shit out of Parsons is a real mystery; he'd probably have done it for free, or at most a bag of bennies and a bottle of Old Crow. Country music is already bad enough -- it doesn't need any help from spoiled music industry fuck-ups.