Alan Paul's Blog, page 8

Duane Betts New EP, available now

Big congrats to my friend Duane Betts on the release of his debut EP  Sketches of American Music.

You can buy it from Amazon here, or stream it on Spotify here. 

The collection features five original tunes with echoes of country and blues lacing the roots rock. Great stuff. Proud of Duane. We’ve been buddies since he was about 15 hanging out sidestage at some Allman Brothers Beacon show. I used to give him pep talks after he sat in with the ABB. He’d do great and then feel bad that he “could play better.” A teenager standing on the Beacon stage playing with the fuckin’ Allman Brothers, staring down one of the most intimidating guitar legends ever. Who was his father! I tried to make him realize how proud he should feel.

We’ve stayed in touch most of these years, though ups and downs, through him touring for years with Dickey Betts and Great Southern, through his excellent stint with Dawes, guest appearances with others, through working with Jamtown. And most recently through his collaboration with Devon Allman. I’m proud of Duane and I’m happy for him and I invite you to enjoy his music and throw your support behind him. 

Stoll Vaughan, Steve Cropper and and Marc Ford all helped with the songwriting. 

 

 

Roots Rock Revival back and better than ever – with Jaimoe!

Roots Rock Revival, an annual instructional music camp in the Catskill Mountains, will return for its sixth year this August with an all-star lineup of musicians including hosts Oteil Burbridge and North Mississippi Allstars brothers Luther and Cody Dickinson. The trio were the first artists to join Roots Rock Revival when the camp was founded by late founding Allman Brothers Band drummer Butch Trucks.

Also included in this year’s lineup, which will help with the camp’s daily workshops, seminars and late-night all-comers superjam, are Eric Krasno, John Medeski, John Kadlecik, founding ABB drummer Jaimoe, legendary New Orleans drummer Johnny Vidacovich, Brandon “Taz” Niederauer (who was first discovered as a camper at Roots Rock Revival), Grahame Lesh, Vaylor Trucks (son of Butch), Sister Sparrow and her Dirty Birds bandmates Jackson Kincheloe Brian Graham and Phil Rodriguez, Jaimoe’s Jasssz Band’s Junior Mack, Berry Duane Oakley (son of founding ABB bassist Berry Oakley), and Jeffrey James Franca and Ashish “Hash” Vyas of Thievery Corporation.

Roots Rock Revival will return to the Full Moon Resort in Big Indian, NY, August 6–10. All information can be found here.

Allman Brothers Announce 4-disc set due in May

FOUR-DISC SET, OUT IN MAY, FEATURES CURATED SELECTIONS FROM SIX SUMMER SHOWS 

 

RIP Hal Greer – my Slam feature on

RIP Hal Greer. I profiled him in Slam in 2003. I have not updated the file. All information was accurate as of then. Complete Washington Post obit here.









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It’s time for a pop quiz, so put down your book and pick up your pencil. This won’t take long. It’s a one-question test, one which should a breeze for a hoopshead such as yourself.

Who is the leading scorer in Philadelphia 76ers franchise history?

 Julius Erving? Try again. Moses Malone? He only played five years in Philly, kid. AI is a little more than halfway there, so maybe some day.. Billy Cunningham? He’s in the Hall of Fame, but he’s not even close. Wilt the Stilt was the most dominant player ever but he only spent three and a half years on the Sixers, so he’s not the man. Sir Charles scored a bundle in the city of Brotherly Love, but he departed too soon to top the heap. The answers, lady and gentleman is… Harold Everett “Hal” Greer. In fact, only 20 guys in the history of the NBA have scored more points than Hal, but don’t feel bad if you didn’t know. You’re not alone.

“Hal Greer is one of those guys who has gotten lost in the shuffle,” says Jerry West, a fellow Hall of Famer who had many memorable matchups against Greer. “That’s not right, because he was fantastic. Hal was very serious – there was no frivolity in his game – and very quiet. And he played with Wilt, which is enough to obscure anyone’s accomplishments.”

It’s not fair to call Greer forgotten — he was elected to the HOF in 81 and named one of the League’s 50 Greatest Players in 96 and one of the main drives in Huntington, West Virginia, where he both grew up and starred at Marshall, is named after him. But considering the scope of his accomplishments Greer is definitely more obscure to even the most devoted fan than he should be. Consider that in 15 years with the 76ers and their precursors, the Syracuse Nationals, Greer was the model of consistency, steely will and complete, passionate dedication to playing winning, team basketball. He scored 21,586 points – exactly 205 less than Larry Bird, who is just above him on the all–time list — dished out 4,540 assists and scored 22.1 ppg (two less than Wilt) for the Sixers’ 67 title team, which went 68-13 and is still considered one of the best squads of all time. And Greer stepped up his game in the postseason, dropping 27.7 ppg.

“Harold was small but quick and extremely smart and tenacious,” says Dolph Schayes, who was Greer’s teammate from 58-63 and his coach from 63-66 and who is also in the Hall of Fame. “And he was probably the best mid-range shooter in the history of the game.”

You can’t talk to anyone who saw Greer play without hearing the words “midrange jumper” within three minutes. Speaking on the phone from his Arizona home, Greer, 67, laughs when asked how he developed that deadly 15-20 foot shot.

“I think it had to do with learning to play at home on a basket attached to a barn, which meant that I couldn’t drive, so I was always shooting,” he says. “And I spent countless days and nights alone in the Marshall gym running back and forth from one free throw line to the other, stopping and shooting. I had my own key and I’d go in there, turn the lights on and practice my jump shot for hours.”

Hal and Wilt

This practice regimen also led Greer to adopt the unusual style of taking jumpers from the free throw line. “I figured I practiced my jumper all the time, so what was the difference?” he says. “And it worked– I shot 80 percent.”

Greer also shot 45 percent from the field, despite living almost completely outside the lane. “I could hit those jumpers with my eyes closed,” he says. “[Sixers coach] Alex Hannum used to say that he would rather me stop at the foul line and shoot than take it to the hoop, even on a breakaway!”

Despite all his accomplishments, Greer says that his proudest basketball moment was simply making the Nationals his rookie year. He was drafted in the second round of the 58 Draft after averaging 23.6 ppg as a senior and he insists that he kept his bag packed throughout rookie training camp, prepared to return to Huntington and follow his older brother into the police force.

“I had really planned on giving it my best and if I made it I made it and if not, the police force would be fine,” says Greer. “Nothing in my basketball career – including winning the title or getting into the Hall of Fame – was as great as just hearing I had made the team, I would have played my first year for nothing. As it went along, it became my business, but I loved the game so much.”

Greer almost immediately became a key contributor to a great team. Led by Schayes, center Red Kerr and pg Larry Costello, the Nationals took Boston to seven games in a thrilling, hard fought Eastern Finals, before falling 130-125 at the Boston Garden.

“That was the best team we had at Syracuse,” Schayes recalls. “Larry and Hal were a great backcourt and we would have won the championship if we could have gotten by Boston, who beat Minnesota 4-0 in the Finals.”

Instead, the Celtics won the first of eight consecutive titles, a streak not broken until Syracuse had long since moved to Philly and Wilt had come back to his hometown. Wilt’s arrival in the middle of the 64-65 season was a key step towards a title, but it was not necessarily easy for Greer to adjust to.

“Philly was Wilt’s hometown and once he arrived, he was the focus of everything and everybody,” recalls Chet “The Jet” Walker, another key contributor to those teams. “I think Hal sometimes felt he was being overlooked and underrated, because he had been the unquestioned star when we moved from Syracuse and became the 76ers and Hal was definitely the star. Despite his greatness, he had a certain insecurity inside him and he definitely felt under-appreciated at times, but he adjusted to Wilt’s style easily because he was such a smart player.”

Schayes, who was the coach when Wilt arrived, expresses similar thoughts, but Greer himself insists that he had no trouble adapting to the Big Dipper.

“I knew what kind of game he had from all the years playing against him and we all knew if we were open Wilt would give it to use because he was a great passer,” Greer says. “He was the main focus of the team and that was fine because you need a guy like that to win.”

The championship team came in the midst of Greer’s great, remarkably consistent career. Greer was named to the All-NBA second team seven straight times – only the presence of fellow Top 50 players Jerry West and Oscar Robertson kept him off the first team. Mention those names to him now and his first response and he lets out a little hoot, before exclaiming, “My arch rivals! I was always sort of the third guard behind those guys.”

If that sounds like bitterness, it is not. Greer call the Big O the best, most complete player ever and names him and West as the starting back court on his all-time team of people he played with or against, along with Bob Pettit, Wilt and Elgin Baylor. Greer made the All Star team for 10 straight years, from 61-70, during which years he never averaged less than 19.5 ppg, while topping 22 ppg seven times. He was the All-Star Game MVP in 68 when he set the record for most points scored in a quarter (19). When he retired in 73, he held the career record for most games played (1,122) and ranked in the top ten in points scored, field goals attempted (18,811 and made (8,504) and minutes played (39,788).

Greer also had a great career at Marshall and was an all American as a senior, but his legacy there far exceeds his on-court accomplishments. He was the first black to play for a major college team in West Virginia and his success helped ease the way for the integration all Southern sports.

“I was prepared to go to Elizabeth State Teacher’s College, where my brother had gone, when coach came up to me during a high school basketball game and asked if I wanted to play at Marshall. I was very surprised and a little scared but I felt I had to try to do this, because Jackie Robinson was one of my heroes. I knew I would have to endure some of what he went through.”

Today, nearly 50 years later, Greer is not eager to get specific about any of the racial harassment he faced. He says that his quiet nature lessened the attacks and fondly recalls being warmly welcomed to campus on his first day by several white former high school opponents.

“I had very few issues on campus and absolutely no problems with my teammates,” Greer says. “ I did have to endure a few incidents at away games, but the world had to go through that to get where we are now.”

Whatever pain Greer suffered in those days must have been somewhat soothed in 1966 when Huntington saluted its native son with a Hal Greer Day. Twelve years later he was honored by his hometown again when 16th street was renamed Hal Greer Boulevard “That was one of the greatest moments in my life,” he says. “The boulevard goes past my high school, my elementary school and Marshall University.”

Clearly, Greer’s status in his hometown is secure, but not so at the site of his greatest NBA triumphs, Philadelphia. Greer and the 76ers parted on bitter terms following the putrid 9-73 1972-73 season. As the franchise’s all-time leading scorer, he thought he deserved better than playing mop up minutes on the worst NBA team ever assembled.

“It was difficult, yes, and not just that season,” Greer says. “Unfortunately, I‘ve seen it happen so many times, but at the time I was devastated. I had spent all 15 years in the organization and had given them my whole life and to be treated like they did me was a little disappointing. I just 

wanted to retire with dignity. Charles Barkley says all the time that’s all any athlete wants. But they had a new owner who was not a basketball man and a new general manager named Don DeJardin, who was a military man, and it was his way or the highway. Those last three or four years were tough for me.”

I mention that Sixers Ambassador World B Free has told me that the team would love to have Greer back to honor him again (his number was retired in 76) and he laughs, before saying he’s not interested. “I’ve heard that so many times and I’m not really open to that. Those days are over and I’m still trying to get the last three or four years there out of my system.”

According to some friends and former teammates, Greer was rebuffed in his attempt to get a post-playing job with the Sixers, who were upset that he had publicly aired his grievances. Greer remained in Philadelphia until the early 90s, when he lost his home and many of his most prized possessions, from wedding photos to basketball memorabalia due to financial difficulties.

 “We went through a thing in Philadelphia where we had bad advice and bad information and someone came and took over our house and everything in it,” says Greer. “I got some stuff back, but a lot of important things like wedding presents were gone forever, though we still have the memories in our hearts. It was a very difficult and that’s  when I left Philadelphia and vowed I would never go back. I’ve mellowed a little but I’m in Arizona now and I’m not looking back. I’m onto a new phase in my life, retired and playing as much golf as I possibly can. I have a 10 handicap and I’m aiming for single digits”

Greer gets a little testy for the one and only time when asked if the crushing blow of losing his house combined with his nasty break with the Sixers is what led him to retreat from public life.. “I haven’t gone anywhere, “ he says. “I’m just a quiet guy who likes to spend time at home with my family.”

Greer and Mayme, his wife of 39 years, have three kids. Their youngest, Cherie, is the president of Grant Hills’ GrantCo Enterprises, overseeing all his business deals and off-court ventures, as well as an All American lacrosse player, who has played in three World Cups, winning a gold medal each time and captaining the U.S. squad in ’01. She says that her father didn’t speak much about his basketball career when she was younger.

“I didn’t appreciate the scope of his achievements until I got older,” she says. “Now I’ve finally begun to understand how many obstacles he had to go through to make it. Most of it comes from people telling me how great my father was, watching the reaction of older folks, when they recognize him and listening to a lot of people’s stories.”

Of course, stories and word of mouth are all anyone has to remember those days by, for the most part. You won’t flip on ESPN Classic and see a Syracuse Nationals game any time soon. The tapes don’t even exist. As Jerry West notes, the little press that existed at the time focused on a handful of players, like himself and Wilt.  It was easy for a quiet, shy, fiercely proud guy like Greer to slip under the radar.

 “We didn’t have all the people promoting our game like we have today,” says West. “If we did, Hal would have been much better known, because his game was totally unique; he stands out because there’s no one to really compare him to. He could score, pass, defend, and he was totally serious and committed to winning, which you have to be in order to be great at this game. He was really a terrific player.”

An interview with Bill Russell

You can make a strong argument that Bill Russell is the greatest NBA player ever. I watched less NBA this year than any year in decades, but have already been digging the Playoffs, which inspired me to post this interview I did with Russ for Slam. All hail a brave, complex, misunderstood man.

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by Alan Paul

Bill Russell was basketball’s best defender and greatest victor, winning 11 championship rings in 13 Celtics seasons. But he was also much more-the key figure in modernizing the sport. By refining and popularizing blocked shots, fast-break ball and above-the-rim play, Russell ushered hoops out of the set shot era and into the age of alley oops. An athletic 6-10, 220, he roamed the floor freely, blocking as many shots away from the basket as underneath it while running and handling like a small forward and passing like a guard.

Russell refined his game at the University of San Francisco, where he posted 23 points and 13 blocks in his first game, then closed out his USF career with a stunning 55 consecutive victories and two NCAA titles. He won a gold medal in the ’56 Olympics before joining Red Auerbach’s Celtics and instantly altering the NBA landscape. As a rookie, Russell scored 19 points and grabbed 32 boards in Game 7 of the ’57 Finals to earn his first ring. Over his 13 seasons, Russell won five MVP awards, played in 12 All-Star games and averaged 15.1 ppg and 22.5 rpg. He also battled Wilt Chamberlain in one of the sport’s all-time greatest rivalries. They faced off 142 times in 10 years, with Russell’s teams winning 85 of those meetings.

Russell’s impact wasn’t limited to the court. He was the first black coach of a major sports team, winning his final two titles as the Celtics’ player-coach-with no assistants-and going on to coach Seattle and Sacramento. He was also an outspoken advocate for social and racial justice, vociferously refusing to stay in hotels or eat in restaurants that denied service to blacks who lacked his celebrity status. And he was always an odd, somewhat distant public figure, refusing to sign autographs and insisting that the Celtics retire his number in an empty Boston Garden. Today, the 67-year-old Russell shows little interest in discussing such topics, though he’s happy to talk hoops and quick to explain why he was the right person to write a “how-to” guide to winning, Russell Rules.

“I think I know a lot about the subject,” Russell says. “My college team has the second-longest winning streak in history. My Olympic team still holds the record for greatest margin of victory. And the Celtics were perhaps the best team in the history of American sports. We won eight straight titles and nine of 10 in the decade of the ’60s. To do that against the best basketball players on the planet is remarkable.”

SLAM: You were so heralded for your defensive ability that people often overlook how well-rounded your game was.

RUSSELL: To me, I was a better offensive player than a defensive player. By the end of my first year, I always put the offense in motion, and after a year or two almost all the plays went through me. In fact, Havlicek said after I left, he missed me more on offense than on defense.

SLAM: Passing is often overlooked in post play.

RUSSELL: I’d say 95 percent of people who view the game don’t know about that. Only the really good coaches see how important it is that all your players know how to pass from their position. My ability was unique because I could make the passes from any position, which not many people have ever been able to do. Oscar [Robertson] could, Michael [Jordan] could, and, of course, Magic [Johnson] could. He was probably the best ever at making passes that anybody can catch from any position on the floor.

SLAM: When Wilt entered the League after your third year, many said your era was over. Did that competition become an inspiration?

RUSSELL: No. I’d set a standard to win and that didn’t change. Wilt was an enormously talented man and I wasn’t going to do things that would inspire him to play harder, even if that meant giving him an easy basket here and there. You have to understand, this was a great, great player. And you had to keep things in perspective. He was a guy you couldn’t dominate physically or mentally. You can’t play somebody else’s game and have a chance to win. We had a style when he arrived, and the idea was to maintain that style, because it was successful.

Wilt’s numbers speak for themselves: 100 points in a game, 27 rebounds averaged in a season! But after he did all these things, Wilt kept on not winning, and people never understood that, so they started criticizing him. But I never did. I thought he was great. Basically, I saw it as he had an agenda and I had an agenda. And we both fulfilled our agendas.

SLAM: Though I’m sure Wilt would have liked to win more games against you.

RUSSELL: Well, he’d have to get in line for that. There wasn’t a player who I played against who didn’t wish they had won more.

SLAM: It’s sad that Jerry West views his career largely as a failure because of his inability to beat the Celtics. If the positions had been switched and you’d been to the Finals many times only to lose, would you feel like a failure?

RUSSELL: I don’t know. You have to view your career from what it is and not what it might have been. I don’t speculate.

SLAM: What is the key to getting yourself in the position to win?

RUSSELL: First of all, understand that it’s a game you’re playing. Then figure out how to take the skills you have and make them have an effect on how the game is played.

SLAM: But you changed the way the game is played. For instance, in your first NCAA championship, you threw down two reverse alley oops which demoralized LaSalle. Were you making that stuff up as you went, or were others playing that style somewhere?

RUSSELL: I was basically making it up as I went. But K.C. [Jones] was the only one making passes like that to me. The others were shooting so badly, I’d just grab the ball and put it in.

SLAM: You also changed defensive concepts by leaping to block shots, which was considered fundamentally wrong. Where did you learn that?

RUSSELL: When you play seriously every day, you discover things about the game. You find out things you can’t do, and you find out what you can do. Knowing the rules is very important, because they tell what you can do, just as much as they tell you what you can’t do.

SLAM: Sometimes, rules change. The NCAA doubled the width of the lane to slow you down.

RUSSELL: They said that, but it was actually one of the most helpful things they could’ve done because I was very mobile. It made the big slow guys add another step to their positioning, which gave me more room to operate.

SLAM: In college, you and K.C. spent as much time talking about basketball as playing it. Did those conversations help your development?

RUSSELL: Oh yeah! When you talk about your craft, you begin to pinpoint the things that bother you and understand how to either avoid them or improve them. How do you change if you always commit a foul in a certain situation or keep finding yourself in a place on the court where you can’t make a shot? The other thing is developing an understanding of your opponents’ mentality. You have to understand what makes a player repeat the habits he relies upon. Even very good players want to do the things they’re most comfortable with. If you know that, you know how to act to force him away from those things. If you don’t know, then you’re just gonna have to react as he does them, and you are at a disadvantage.

SLAM: You’ve said before that a great basketball player should strive to play with honesty and integrity. What does this mean to you?

RUSSELL: It’s about taking whatever your skills are and using them as best as you can, for as much time as you can.

SLAM: How would you describe your relationship with Red Auerbach?

RUSSELL: From the very first game it was obvious that he respected my talent and skills, and that he respected me as a person. When people respect you, you respect them.

SLAM: You joined the League only seven years after the first black player, and many fans were still nasty. Was that hard to deal with?

RUSSELL: No. That was never a factor. Fans all over the country were racist and obnoxious, some places more and some less, but I never permitted that to have an adverse effect on my playing, and within the Celtics that did not exist.

SLAM: How did you end up as the Celtics’ player/coach after Red retired?

RUSSELL: Red offered me the job first and I said I wasn’t interested. So he asked if I had any recommendations and said that he would not hire anyone who I didn’t approve of 100 percent, because I had meant too much to the franchise. I had some ideas, but we couldn’t work out a deal. Frank Ramsey, who was my first choice, couldn’t leave home. [Bob] Cousy couldn’t get out of his contract at Boston College and so on. Red came up with one last name, and I just wasn’t going to play for that person, so I decided that I would, in fact, do it.

SLAM: And you became the first black coach in the history of American sports.

RUSSELL: Which had absolutely nothing to do with getting my job done, from my viewpoint. The biggest advantage of the change is I was starting to get bored. We had won eight straight NBA championships. That is enough of a statement of anything you want to say, so the question becomes, “What’s next?” Taking the job forced me to totally re-immerse myself in the game. I had to take all of Red’s concepts and strategies and incorporate them in my own way.

SLAM: Your first year as coach [’66-67], the streak was ended by the Sixers, who some call the best team ever. What made them so good?

RUSSELL: They came together for a season as a completely compatible group, in terms of both physical talent and attitude. They surrounded Wilt with some extraordinary players who nobody talks about now. Guys like Chet Walker, Luke Jackson, Hal Greer, Larry Costello, Wali Jones and Matt Guokas, with the great Billy Cunningham off the bench. And they played together as a unit. They didn’t defer to anyone.

SLAM: When they beat you, Philly fans carried a sign reading “Boston is dead,” which many believed. Did you have any crisis of confidence?

RUSSELL: No. We lost that one and then won two more. Last year’s championship is only important in how other teams fear you; you still have to go out and beat everyone again. People say there were better teams than the Celtics, but we set the standard. A given team might come up for a year, but only we could sustain it.

SLAM: The game’s next great center, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, came into the League the year you left. What are your thoughts about him?

RUSSELL: His sky hook was one of the greatest innovations in sports. There has never been anyone built quite like Kareem, and the shot’s brilliance is that it is completely unique to his physical abilities and proportions.

SLAM: Elvin Hayes said that in his first game against you, he took a shot and you came out of nowhere and just crushed it. It really shook him up, but after the game you gave him some advice, which boosted his confidence.

RUSSELL: When a new big man came into the League, I wanted to make sure they knew I was around, and to establish that there were boundaries that should not be crossed. But I also wanted every player in the League playing as well as possible, because I wanted the League to be totally elite. It always made me feel good to hear people say, “The greatest athletes in the world play in the NBA.”

SLAM: You bridged generations, finishing your career against Hayes after starting against pioneers like Dolph Schayes. Why was he so good?

RUSSELL: He was completely tenacious. He worked as hard as anyone. One story stands out: One time he got submarined and broke the wrist on his shooting hand. When the doctor cast it, Dolph had him leave his fingers out. He never missed a game, and neither his shooting percentage nor his scoring average went down.

SLAM: What defined Bob Pettit’s game?

RUSSELL: He was a great, great player who came at you relentlessly. He was very aggressive, played really hard, knew what he could do and stayed within that. There are about a half dozen players who were extraordinarily competitive and he was one of them, along with Michael, Bird, Magic, Wilt and Oscar, who was probably the most competitive of all.

SLAM: What was it like to play with Cousy?

RUSSELL: It was easy, because not only was he a great player, but the things he did were completely in sync with what I did. He would transition from defense to offense as his guy went to the basket, because he knew I’d take care of him. I knew which way he’d force him, and I’d be there waiting while also cutting off his passing lanes. Meanwhile, Bob was heading downcourt, so we’d take control of the offense while the other team still had the ball. Nobody had done that before, because they didn’t have the ingredients, namely a great rebounder and defender to grab the ball and turn it around, and a fast, in-control guard to throw to.

SLAM: As much as your style of play changed the center position, was there anyone who came after you who captured your style?

RUSSELL: Maybe it’s egotism, but I have never seen another player who even approached the way I played the game in terms of depth. I’ve never seen anyone do the number of things I do well.

MLK was killed 50 years ago today. Hear Gregg Allman’s moving tribute.

Photo – David Oppenheimer

Today is the 50th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s murder. Another good opportunity to share “God Rest His Soul,” Gregg Allman’s beautiful tribute to Dr. King, which he wrote and recorded in 1968, shortly after the assassination.

Gregg Allman wrote this song for Dr. King but it was never on any of his sanctioned releases. He said that he never intended to release it and just wrote it as a personal tribute, but he also sold the song for way too cheap to producer Steve Alaimo when he needed money to get back from Florida to Los Angeles. Alaimo also bought “Melissa,” which ABB manager Phil Walden eventually bought back 50 percent of… There are multiple versions of it, and this is not my favorite but I think it’s a great tribute to a great man and the person who put this video together with pics of Dr. King did it justice, though he misidentifies it as being The Hourglass. This tracks was actually cut with Butch Trucks’ The 31st of February and produced by Alaimo.

As always, I think it’s important to remember that when Dr. King was assassinated he was in Memphis marching in support of striking garbage haulers. I’m sure many of those striking men could have and would have done a lot of other things had they had the opportunity to do so. It bothers me that we have garbage pickup today. Let’s not allow MLK Day to become another excuse for sales.

MLK’s haunting final speech, “I Have Been to the Mountaintop” is below that. Unbelievable.

MLK’s haunting final speech, “I Have Been to the Mountaintop”:

Dickey Betts confirms more tour dates

Well now. Dickey Betts announced a bunch more tour dates today – and they’re great news for people in NYC area, including a Beacon show. I know people in the rest of the country are going to be a little edgy until and unless some other shows are added.

Dickey’s band for the tour: his son Duane Betts and Damon Fowler on guitar, drummers Frankie Lombardi and Steve Camilleri, bassist Pedro Arevalo, and keyboardist Mike Kach. Apparently, additional dates will be announced soon.

MAY 17, MACON, GA, Macon Auditorium

With Devon Allman Project Feat. Duane Betts

MAY 19, BOCA RATON, FL, Florida Jam

With Devon Allman Project Feat. Duane Betts

JULY 15, PATCHOGUE, NY, Great South Bay Music Festival

JULY 18, NEW YORK CITY, NY, Beacon Theatre

JULY 19, SCRANTON, PA, Peach Fest – specific dates not announced, but it has to be…

JULY 20, RIDGEFIELD, CT

Ridgefield Playhouse

JULY 21, STATEN ISLAND, NY

St. George Theater

The formation of the Allman Brothers Band

11969, new to Macon. Photo – Twiggs Lyndon

It’s March 26, 2018. Happy 49th birthday Allman Brothers Band!Let’s celebrate with an excerpt from One Way Out: The Inside History of the Allman Brothers Band detailing their formation.

DICKEY BETTS: It says a lot that Duane’s hero was Muhammad Ali. He had Ali’s type of supreme confidence. If you weren’t involved in what he thought was the big picture, he didn’t have time for you. A lot of people really didn’t like him for that. It’s not that he was aggressive; it was more a super-positive, straight-ahead, I’ve-got-work-to-do kind of thing. If you didn’t get it, see you later. He always seemed like he was charging ahead and it took a lot of energy to be with him.

THOM DOUCETTE: I couldn’t get enough of that Duane energy. If Duane put out his hand to you, you had a hand. There was no bullshit about him at all. None.

GREGG ALLMAN: My brother was a real pistol. He was a hell of a person… a firecracker. He knew how to push people’s buttons and bring out the best.

JOHNNY SANDLIN: He was a personality you only see once in a lifetime. He could inspire you and challenge you, with eye contact, smiles… little things. It would just make you better and I think anyone who ever played with him would tell you the same thing. You knew he had your back, and that was the best feeling in the world.

BUTCH TRUCKS: One day we were jamming on a shuffle going nowhere so I started pulling back and Duane whipped around, looked me in the eyes and played this lick way up the neck like a challenge. My first reaction was to back up, but he kept doing it, which had everyone looking at me like the whole flaccid nature of this jam was my fault. The third time I got really angry and started pounding the drums like I was hitting him upside his head and the jam took off and I forgot about being self conscious and started playing music and he smiled at me, as if to say, “Now that’s more like it.”

It was like he reached inside me and flipped a switch and I’ve never been insecure about my drumming again. It was an absolute epiphany; it hit me like a ton of bricks. I swear if that moment had not happened I would probably have spent the past 30 years as a teacher. Duane was capable of reaching inside people and pulling out the best. He made us all realize that music will never be great if everyone doesn’t give it all they have and we all took on that attitude: why bother to play if you’re not going all in?

REESE WYNANS: Dickey was the hottest guitar player in the area, the guy that everyone looked up to and wanted to emulate. Then Duane came and started sitting in with us and he was more mature and more fully formed, with total confidence, an incredible tone and that unearthly slide playing. But he and Dickey complemented each other – they didn’t try to outgun one another – and the chemistry was obvious right away. It was just amazing that the two best lead guitarists around were teaming up. They were both willing to take chances rather than returning to parts they knew they could nail and everything they tried worked.

RICHARD PRICE: Dickey was already considered one of the hottest guitar players in the state of Florida. He was smoking in the Second Coming and always had a great ability to arrange.

WYNANS: I remember one time Duane came up to me with this sense of wonder and said, “Reese, I just learned how to play the highest note in the world. You put the slide on the harmonic and slide it up and all of a sudden it’s birds chirping.” And, of course, that became his famous “bird call.” He was always playing and pushing and sharing his ideas and passions. 

JAIMOE: Duane had talked about a lot of guitar players and when I heard some of them I said, “That dude can’t tote your guitar case” and he was surprised. He loved jamming with everyone.

DOUCETTE:  None of them could hold Duane’s case except Betts.

JAIMOE: Duane loved guitar players. I only knew two people Duane didn’t like: Jimmy Page and Sonny Sharrock. He played on the Herbie Mann Push Push sessions [in 1971] with Sonny and he hated him and the way nothing he played was ever really clear. He also didn’t like Led Zeppelin, though I don’t know why. Anyhow, Duane liked Dickey and the two of them clicked and started working on songs and parts immediately.

WYNANS: Berry was very dedicated to jamming and deeply into the Dead and the Airplane and these psychedelic approaches and always playing that music for us – and it was pretty exotic stuff to our ears, because there were no similar bands in the area. Dickey was a great blues player with a rock edge; he could play all these great Lonnie Mack licks, for instance. And then Duane arrived, and was just on another planet. And the power of all of it combined was immediately obvious.

Photo – Twiggs Lyndon

BETTS: All of us were playing in good little bands, but Duane was the guy who had Phil Walden — Otis Redding’s manager! — on his tail, anxious to get his career moving. And Duane was hip enough to say, “Hey, Phil, instead of a three-piece, I have a six-piece and we need $100,000 for equipment.” And Phil was hip enough to have faith in this guy. If there was no Phil Walden and no Duane Allman there would have been no Allman Brothers Band.

The unnamed group began regularly playing free shows in Jacksonville’s Willow Branch Park, joined by a large, rotating crop of musicians. They went on to play in several local parks.

PRICE: It was Berry’s idea to play for free in the parks for the hippies.

TRUCKS: The six of us had this incredible jam and he went to the door and said, “If anyone wants to leave this room they’re going to have to fight their way out.” We were playing all the time and doing these free concerts in the park and we all knew we had something great going, but the keyboard player was Reese Wynans not Gregg and we didn’t really have a singer. Duane said, “I need to call my baby brother.” I said, “Are you sure?” Because he was upset that Gregg had stayed out in L.A. to do his solo thing and I was upset that he had left when I thought we had something going with the 31st of February project the year before. He said, “I’m pissed at him, too but he’s the only one strong enough to sing with this band.” And, of course, he was right. Whatever his issues, Gregg had the voice and he had the songs that we needed.

PHIL WALDEN, original ABB manager; founder/president of Capricorn Records: They had this great instrumental presence but no real vocalist. Berry, Dickey and Duane were all doing a little singing. That was a lot of a little singing and no singer. So Duane called Gregg and asked him to come down.

JAIMOE: Duane was talking about Gregory being the singer in the band from the beginning. Very early on, Duane told me, “There’s only one guy who can sing in this band and that’s my baby brother.” He told me that he was a womanizer. He said Gregg broke girls hard and all the rest of it, but that he’s a hell of a singer and songwriter – which obviously was accurate and is to this day.

LINDA OAKLEY: We were all sitting in our kitchen late one night after one of these jams. They were all so psyched about what they were building and Duane said, “We’ve got to get my brother here, out of that bad situation. He’s a great singer and songwriter and he’s the guy who can finish this thing.”

WYNANS: For quite a while, we were all just jamming and guys from other bands would often be there singing, or Berry would sing, Duane would sing a little, “Rhino” Reinhardt would sing. [Guitarist Larry “Rhino” Reinhardt, who was in Second Coming and went on to play with Iron Butterfly.] Then all of a sudden there was talk of this becoming a real band, and Duane was talking about getting his brother here to sing. Everyone was excited about it, but I knew Gregg played keyboards and figured that might be the end of it for me. It was personally disappointing, because the band was really going somewhere and obviously had a chance to do something great. It was kind of a drag but this was Duane’s brother, so what can you say? You wish them good luck and move on to the next thing.  It was a thrill to be a part of.

BETTS: We had all been bandleaders and we knew what we now had.

Gregg was still in Los Angeles, having stayed there after the breakup of Hour Glass. Liberty Records had recorded and released a second album with Gregg backed by session musicians after Duane, Sandlin and the rest of the band left California.

ALLMAN: I didn’t have a band, but I was under contract to a label that had me cut two terrible records, including one with these studio cats in L.A. They had me do a blues version of Tammy Wynette’s “D-I-V-O-R-C-E,” which can’t be done. It was really horrible. I hope you never hear it. They told us what to wear, what to play, everything. They dictated everything, including putting us in those clown suits. I hated it, but what are you gonna do when they’re taking care of all your expenses? You end up feeling like some kind of kept man and it was fuckin’ awful. I was excited when my brother called and said he was putting a new band together and wanted me to join. I just wrote a note that said, “I’m gone. If you want to sue my ass, come on after me.”





BETTS: We were all telling Duane to call Gregg. We knew we needed him. They were fighting or something, which they did all the time – just normal brotherly stuff.

JAIMOE: Duane finally called Gregg when he got everyone that he thought would work, because he needed to give him as much time as possible to resolve the contract issues with Liberty. Once everyone else was in place, Duane called him and said, “You’ve got to hear this band that I’m putting together. You need to be the singer.”

KIM PAYNE, one of the ABB’s original roadies: I met Gregory in LA when I was working for another band that played with him and we became good friends, running around, staying with chicks until we got kicked out and drinking cheap wine. Almost every day we were together, Gregg would bitch about his brother. He’d say, “He’s calling me again asking him to join his band, but there ain’t no way because I can not get along with my brother in a band.” He said that to me countless times. 

JON LANDAU: When I was in Muscle Shoals I was sitting in the office with Duane, Rick and Phil and Duane picked up the phone, dialed a number and said, “Brother, it’s time for us to play together again.” I was a fly on the wall and could obviously only hear one end of the conversation, but it seemed very positive.

ALLMAN: My brother only called me one time and I jumped on it.

JOHN McEUEN:  As I recall, Duane kept calling Gregg saying,  “You got to get down here. The band has never sounded better.” He called enough times and Gregg went. I have to give Duane credit for having the vision to do this thing. I know the L.A. years were not great ones for them, but I think it was something they had to go through to discover their path. 

PAYNE: Gregg kept telling me, “I’m not going down and getting involved with that.” You have to remember he was coming off a very bad band experience; he hated the way the Hour Glass went and how it ended up and he may have connected that with being Duane’s fault. I think he also felt like Duane and the other guys turned on him and blamed him for staying in LA, when he thought he had to.

SANDLIN: It kind of bothered me that Gregg stayed out in LA, but I didn’t know if he wanted to, or was being forced by management.

PAYNE: At the same time, he was looking at his future – he was driving an old Chevy with a fender held on with antenna wire. Whenever we ran out of money, he’d go down and sell a song. We were living hand to mouth.

ALLMAN: My brother said he was tired of being a robot on the staff down in Muscle Shoals, even though he had made some progress, and gotten a little known playing with great people like Aretha and Wilson Pickett. He wanted to take off and do his own thing. He said, “I’m ready to get back on the stage, and I got this killer band together. We got two drummers, a great bass player and a hell of a lead guitar player, too.” And I said, “Well, what do you do?” And he said, “Wait’ll you get here and I’ll show you.”

I didn’t know that he had learned to play slide so well. I thought he was out of his mind, but I was doing nothing, going nowhere. My brother sent me a ticket, but I knew he didn’t have the money, so I put it in my back pocket, stuck out my thumb on the San Bernardino Freeway and got a ride all the way to Jacksonville, Florida – and it was a bass player I got a ride from.

PAYNE: I know that Gregg remembers hitchhiking across the country, but the thing is, I’m the guy who drove him to the airport.

McEUEN: My brother bought a Chevy Corvair for Gregg to drive around LA – the most unsafe car ever invented. One day Gregg comes by the house, a little duplex in Laurel Canyon, looking for my brother, who wasn’t there. He said, “Hey, John, the man pulled me over. You know how they are. He doesn’t believe this is my car and is going to impound it. I got to take the pink slip to the judge.” So I said, “I know where the pink slip is.” I gave it to him and he took it and sold that car and bought a one-way ticket to Jacksonville. Maybe I’m responsible for the Allman Brothers Band! Gregg came back about six years later when the Brothers were playing the Forum, and gave my brother a check for the car.

TRUCKS: I don’t know how he got there but a few days after Duane said he was calling Gregg, there was a knock on the door and there he was.

ALLMAN: I walked into rehearsal on March 26, 1969, and they played me the track they had worked up to Muddy Waters’ “Trouble No More” and it blew me away. It was so intense.

BETTS: Gregg was floored when he heard us. We were really blowing; we’d been playing these free shows for a few weeks by that point.

ALLMAN: I got my brother aside and said, “I don’t know if I can cut this. I don’t know if I’m good enough.” And he starts in on me: “You little punk, I told these people all about you and you don’t come in here and let me down.” Then I snatched the words out of his hand and said, “Count it off, let’s do it.” And with that, I did my damnedest. I’d never heard or sung this song before, but by God I did it. I shut my eyes and sang, and at the end of that there was just a long silence. At that moment we knew what we had. Duane kinda pissed me off and embarrassed me into singing my guts out. He knew which buttons to push.

The group played their first gig on March 30, 1969 at the Jacksonville Armory. Gregg had been in town for four days.

Excerpted from One Way Out: The Inside History of the Allman Brothers Band.  Copyright 2014 Alan Paul. all rights reserved.

Eric Clapton with the Allman Brothers Band, 2009

3-19-09 Photo – Kirk West

It’s March 20. On this day in 2009, Eric Clapton played the second of two nights with the Allman Brothers Band, the emotional and musical climax of an incredible 40th anniversary Beacon run.

The night before, I was in the house for night one, one of the handful of most exciting concerts of my life. I have often been skeptical of Eric Clapton and have found myself pretty dang bored at his shows a few times, but every time I’ve seen him with someone on stage who pushed him, he’s been damned good: Steve Winwood, Jimmie Vaughan, B.B. King, Stevie Ray Vaughan – and Derek Trucks. So my hopes were very high for this, and I knew exactly how much it meant to everyone in the Allman Brothers, especially Warren, a died-in-the-wool EC fanatic in his younger days.

The excitement around this show was contagious and the joint was buzzing and hopping long before Clapton took the stage. The first set was a superb, no-guests affair: Little Martha, Statesboro Blues, Done Somebody Wrong, Revival, Woman Across the River, Don’t Keep me Wondering and Whipping Post – a first set ender that signaled serious business.

At the break, a grand piano was rolled out and Gregg opened the second set with a solo “Oncoming Traffic” that was just gorgeous. The tension and the energy just kept building and after a few more songs, Clapton strolled out. The complete video of the performance is below – thank you Butch Trucks and Moogis! – and there’s so much to love in this performance. I give Clapton made props for learning the ABB songs and embracing the role, instead of just playing Stormy Monday and Key to the Highway, which still would have been cool. Most Beacon guests did not take their gig so seriously. 

Watch the end of “Why Does Love Got to be So Sad” and  the beautiful, aching interplay between Warren, Derek and Eric. As it ends, Clapton smiles with such contentment and when the final flourish hits, Butch thrusts his arms in the air in triumph. They all knew what they had just done… and then they go right into “Little Wing.” Please enjoy the  One Way Out section about how this all came about:

ALLMAN: The one guy who of course my brother had a real thing with and had never played with the Brothers was Clapton and it was just real good to have him there. That was a long time coming and really fun and meaningful.

This Sunday 3/25 at Brooklyn Bowl! Tickets: http://ticketf.ly/2nBOq01

Derek Trucks, who spent a year touring the world with Clapton in 2006-07, facilitated the British guitarist’s appearance.

DEREK TRUCKS: I had mentioned it to him a few times, but the band wrote a letter – it was really important that it come from them – and I just made sure it got delivered. It was a group effort that basically said, “This is the Allman Brothers Band and we are paying tribute to Duane to celebrate our 40th anniversary. Please join us.”

BUTCH TRUCKS: We’ve been trying to jam with Eric for years but have never been in the same place at the same time. Eric is a big fan of the Allman Brothers, and when Duane died, probably his three best friends outside of our band were Eric Clapton, John Hammond and Delaney Bramlett. Eric and John were at the Beacon and Delaney had sadly died a few months earlier. That’s why it was so important to us to have Eric there.

HAYNES: It was a really big deal to the Allman Brothers Band because that had never happened, which is pretty incredible given the history between Duane and Eric. We were so honored to have him there and the fact it turned into seven or eight songs, going well beyond what we originally agreed upon, was icing on the cake. He was great to work with, he played great and everyone was on his best behavior because we all knew what a special moment it was.

We were all very impressed with Eric’s desire to learn Allman Brothers songs rather than just get up and jam and not just choose ones that would make it easy on everybody. We were hoping for the opportunity to play some of the centerpieces, like “Dreams” and “Liz Reed” and Eric was more than game. “Little Wing” was an afterthought and the coolest part of the rehearsal. Everything went very smoothly and when we had basically played through all the songs we agreed upon, Eric looked around and said, “Is there anything else we should think about? What about ‘Little Wing’?” Our group reaction was, “Well, we’ve never played it, but sure.” We started working it up from scratch and I thought it was one of the highlights.

Clapton’s “Little Wing” suggestion was particularly profound since it was Duane Allman’s idea to record it on Layla. Clapton and Haynes sang harmony vocals on the song. On Thursday, March 19, 2009, Clapton joined the band for six songs: “Key To The Highway,” trading vocal verses with Gregg, “Dreams,” “Little Wing” and Derek and the Dominos’ “Why Does Love Got To Be So Sad?”, “Anyday” and “Layla.” The next night, he also played “Stormy Monday” and “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed.”

ALLMAN: He took a private jet in from New Zealand or some place to be with us and then took it back to resume his tour. When he was here with us, he just gave it all. That was special, man.

DEREK TRUCKS: I knew he would come prepared but I was still a little taken back by how much energy he had put into it. He had only hung with Gregg once or twice and obviously Duane was very important to him. He told me that the time he went and saw the Allman Brothers in Miami he was blown away by them – what they looked like, how they sounded. It was a part of his life that he had never put away and he came loaded for bear.

HAYNES: Eric Clapton was my first guitar influence, along with Johnny Winter and Jimi Hendrix, so it was a very big personal moment for me as well. I sometimes forget how much I learned so much from him in my formative years, but it certainly came back those nights! And on top of that I sang a duet with him on “Little Wing,” I was just emotionally ecstatic.

DEREK TRUCKS: Afterwards, when we were hugging, Eric whispered in my ear, saying something like, “I haven’t played like that since 1969.”

Excerpted from One Way Out: The Inside History of the Allman Brothers Band (St. Martin’s Press). Copyright 2014, Alan Paul. All rights reserved.

Here’s the whole sit-in, from the first night, the night I was there, 3-19-09:

The Allman Brothers At Fillmore East: A Brief History

In honor of the 47th anniversary of the first night of the magical Fillmore East turn that produced the epic album.  I present the following excerpt from One Way Out: The Inside History of the Allman Brothers Band.

This is a partial, very abridged version of Chapter 8. To read the full story of the making of At Fillmore East, pick up a copy of  One Way Out.

Chapter 8.

LIVE ALIVE

Though their first two releases had caused barely a ripple in the marketplace, the band was drawing raves for their marathon live shows that combined the Grateful Dead’s go-anywhere jam ethos with superior musical precision and a deep grounding in the blues. A live album was the obvious solution. To cut the record, the band played New York’s Fillmore East for three nights — March 11, 12 and 13, 1971. They were paid $1250 per show.

The Allman Brothers Band had made their Fillmore East debut December 26-28, 1969, opening for Blood, Sweat and Tears for three night. Promoter Bill Graham loved the band and promised them that he would have them back soon and often, paired with more appropriate acts, and he lived up to this vow.

On January 15-18, 1970, the ABB opened four shows for Buddy Guy and B.B. King at San Francisco’s Fillmore West. They were back in New York on February 11 for three nights with the Grateful Dead. These shows were crucial in establishing the band and exposing them to a wider, sympathetic audience on both coasts.

TRUCKS: You can’t put in words what those early Fillmore shows meant to us. The Fillmore West helped us get established in San Fran and it was cool – especially those shows with B.B. and Buddy – but the Fillmore East was it for us; the launching pad for everything that happened.

ALLMAN: We realized that we got a better sound live and that we were a live band. We were not intentionally trying to buck the system, but keeping each song down to 3:14 just didn’t work for us. We were going to do what the hell we were going to do and that was to experiment on and offstage. And we realized that the audience was a big part of what we did, which couldn’t be duplicated in a studio. A light bulb finally went off; we need to make a live album.

BETTS: There was no question about where to record a concert. New York crowds have always been great, but what made the Fillmore a special place was Bill Graham. He was the best promoter rock has ever had and you could feel his influence in every single little thing at the Fillmore. It was just special. The bands felt it and the crowd felt it and it lit all of us up. The Fillmore was the high-octane gig to play in New York — or anywhere, really.

Bill Graham introducing the ABB. Photo by Sidney Smith. All rights reserved.

ALLMAN:  That was the place to record and we knew it. It was a great sounding room with a great crowd, but what really made it special was the guy who ran it. Bill Graham called a spade a spade and not necessarily in a loving way. Mr. Graham was a stern man, the most tell-it-like-it-is person I have ever met and at first it was off-putting. But he was the fairest person, too, and after knowing him for while, you realized that this guy, unlike most of the other fuckers out there, was on the straight and narrow.

PERKINS: The Fillmores were so professionally run, compared to anything else at the time. And he would gamble on acts, bringing in jazz and blues and the Trinidad/Tripoli String Band – and he had taken a chance on the Brothers, which everyone appreciated and remembered.

Celebrating the music of the Allman Brothers with members of Dickey, Gregg, Jaimoe bands PLUS Les Brers, Dixie Dregs and more! 3/25 at Brooklyn Bowl. $12 tickets: ticketf.ly/2CdleGk

DOWD: I got off a plane from Africa, where I had been working on the Soul To Soul movie [capturing a huge r&b, jazz and rock concert held in Ghana], and called Atlantic to let them know I was back and Jerry Wexler said, “Thank God; we’re recording the Allman Brothers live and the truck is already booked,” so I stayed up in New York for a few days longer than I had planned.

It was a good truck, with a 16-track machine and a great, tough-as-nails staff who took care of business. They were all set to go. When I got there, I gave them a couple of suggestions and clued them in as to what expect and how to employ the 16 tracks, because we had two drummers and two lead guitar players, which was unusual, and it took some foresight to properly capture the dynamics.

Dowd was thrilled with what he was hearing until the band unexpectedly brought out sax player Rudolph “Juicy” Carter and another horn player, as well as harmonica player Thom Doucette, a frequent guest who had played on Idlewild South.

DOWD: We were going along beautifully until the fourth or fifth number when one chap looked up and asked, “What do we do with the horns?” I laughed and said, “Don’t be a smart ass,” thinking he was joking, but three horn players had walked on stage. I was just hoping we could isolate them, so we could wipe them and use the songs, but they started playing and the horns were leaking all over everything, rendering the songs unusable.

JAIMOE: Dowd started flipping out when he heard the horns, but that’s something that could have worked. There’s no way that it would have ruined anything that was going on. It wasn’t distracting anyone, and it was so powerful.

Photo by Sidney Smith – Tulane U. homecoming, 1970. All rights reserved.

BETTS: Dowd was going nuts, but we were just having fun and everyone was enjoying it. We didn’t change our approach because we were recording. We never hired any of those guys. They’d just show up and sit in, and we all dug it.

PERKINS: The horn players would pop up and just sit in for a few songs. Those guys were friends of Jaimoe’s – we just knew them as Tic and Juicy and everyone liked their playing. Nothing was rehearsed with them. They’d just get up and play. Them showing up at those Fillmore gigs was a surprise to me and I didn’t think it was a good idea.

JAIMOE: Tic was a tenor player, Juicy played baritone and soprano  – sometimes together, at the same time – and there was an alto player we called Fats, who was not at the Fillmore and didn’t come around as much.  We had played together in Percy Sledge’s band and I knew them from Charlotte, NC. Good guys and good musicians.

PERKINS: They often had some heroin with them and were welcomed for that as well.

JAIMOE: I don’t know about that; if they showed up with a little something, it was probably because Duane or someone asked them to do so.

DOUCETTE: The plan was to bring on the horns full time. Duane would have liked to have 16 pieces. Duane had six different projects that he wanted to do and he just thought he could do it all at once on the same bandstand.

DOWD: I ran down at the break and grabbed Duane and said, “The horns have to go!” and he went, “But they’re right on, man.” And I said, “Duane, trust me, this isn’t the time to try this out.” He asked if the harp could stick around and I said, “Sure,” because I knew it could be contained and wiped out if necessary.

PERKINS: Doucette had played with the band a lot so he was a lot more cohesive with what they were doing. Duane loved those guys, but he would also listen to reason and I don’t think he put up any fight with Dowd.

DOWD: Every night after the show we would just grab some beers and sandwiches and head up to the Atlantic studios to go through the show. That way, the next night, they knew exactly what they had and which songs they didn’t have to play again. They would craft the setlist based on what we still needed to capture.

BETTS: You have to listen to it being played back to get a sense of whether or not it came together and we loved having that opportunity. We just thought, “Hey this is cool… I didn’t know I did that… That sounds pretty neat.” We were just enjoying ourselves and the opportunity to listen to our performances. We didn’t do a lot of that board tape stuff and we weren’t real hung up on the recording industry anyhow. We just played and if they wanted to record it they could. We were young and headstrong: “We’re gonna play. You do what you want.”

We just felt like we could play all night and sometimes we did. We could really hit the note. There’s not a single fix on there.  All we did was edit some of the harmonica out, where there was a solo that maybe didn’t fit. It wasn’t doctored up, with guitar solos and singing redone in the studio, as on so many live albums. Everything you hear there is how we played it. We weren’t puzzled about what we were playing. We were a rock band that loved jazz and blues. We really loved the Dead, Santana, the Airplane, Mike Finnigan, and all the blues and jazz greats.

TRUCKS: We were listening to people like John Coltrane and Miles Davis, and emulating them and trying to add that level of sophistication to our music – to add jazz and improvisation to blues, rhythm and blues and rock and roll.

DOWD: The Fillmore album captured the band in all their glory. The Allmans have always had a perpetual swing sensation that is unique in rock. They swing like they’re playing jazz when they play things that are tangential to the blues, and even when they play heavy rock. They’re never vertical but always going forward, and it’s always a groove. Fusion is a term that came later, but if you wanted to look at a fusion album, it would be Fillmore East. Here was a rock ’n’ roll band playing blues in the jazz vernacular. And they tore the place up.

BETTS: There’s nothing too complicated about what makes Fillmore a great album: that was a hell of a band and we just got a good recording that captured what we sounded like. I think it’s one of the greatest musical projects that’s ever been done in any genre. It’s an absolutely honest representation of our band and of the times.

JAIMOE: Fillmore was both a particularly great performance and a typical night. That’s what we did!

ALLMAN: You want to come out and get the audience in the palm of your hand right away: “1-2-3-4, bang! I gotcha!” That’s what you gotta do. You can’t be namby-pamby; you can’t be milquetoast with the audience.

WALDEN: Atlantic/Atco rejected the idea of releasing a double-live album. Jerry Wexler thought it was ridiculous to preserve all these jams. But we explained to them that the Allman Brothers were the people’s band, that playing was what they were all about, not recording, that a phonograph record was confining to a group like this.

 Excerpted from One Way Out: The Inside History of the Allman Brothers Band (St. Martin’s Press). Copyright 2014, Alan Paul. All rights reserved.