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Full disclosure: today I'm reviewing a show that I participated in. But, in good journalistic faith, I won't make any sweeping endorsements for my own band--a new Southern-rocky thing called BB Gun--and will stick to talking about the other great bands that paid a fitting tribute to the one and only, the lost legend, Gram Parsons, last night.

Curated and facilitated by Nate Schweber, local rocker (he's the lead singer of New Heathens, who played last night), writer, and all-around good guy, the Second Annual Birthday Tribute to God's Own Cowboy Gram Parsons, got started early and stayed late. The event, as a friend said this morning, was like a Robert Altman movie: part Nashville, part A Prairie Home Companion, surreal but hyper-real at the same time. At Luna Lounge, situated just west of the BQE in uber-indie Williamsburg, Brooklyn, American roots, alt-country, and Southern rock musicians broke out their dobros and mandolins, giving The Baggott Inn a run for its money. Denim-clad, mustachioed urban cowboys, young and old, found their way there on the L train and effortlessly mixed in among the denim-clad, mustachioed country-leaning indie rock kids. Everyone in the crowd (which filled about half of the large-capacity venue) was there for the music, a gift for bands and tribute coordinators alike.

I walked in around 9:30, at the tail-end of the Future Farmers of America's set, then sipped a whiskey and perched on one of the benches along the right side of the stage to see members of Ollabelle, the critically-acclaimed roots band that I had heard was the real deal. Fiona McBain and her band, a bassist/guitarist/vocalist, a mandolin player/drummer, and guest vocalist, played three stirring songs: a sweet, all-female vocal rendition of the Parsons/Emmylou Harris classic "Love Hurts", an original track from their latest record Riverside Battle Songs, and a Buck Owens cover. McBain and company's stripped-down sound is earnest without being sentimental, as beautiful and well-crafted as a piece of blown glass.

Another highlight was Chip Robinson and friends--a "roots music supergroup" comprised of Eric "Roscoe" Ambel and a member of Demolition String Band (who had played earlier in the evening), among others, who got down and dirty, playing nearly a full set and closing with a cover of "Dead Flowers" that got the audience up and dancing. It was midnight on a Wednesday, and there were still four bands to go. Gram would have loved that.

Adding to the surreality of the show, author David N. Meyer read from his recently-published Parsons biography (Twenty Thousand Roads: The Ballad of Gram Parsons and His Cosmic American Music) in between sets. The first time, it was great, and fitting, and kept us focused on what the night was really about. But as the night got longer and the crowd got drunker, the readings were distracting and inaudible over the chattering.

All in all, the night was fun, sweet, a little loose, and showed that alt-country--a genre Parsons spawned--has a place in good old Brooklyn.