Tuesday, January 13, 2015

We'll Get There, Vol. 1: Good Grief

50 Years Dead

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Grateful Dead, I'm going to resurrect something I put together a few years back and shared with a some stoners. Maybe a last ditch effort to resuscitate this blog too. I'll try to put up a new disc each month. If you dig the Dead, you'll dig this. If you don't, fuck off. 


Preamble
I've always wanted a compilation that I felt did true justice to the legacy of the Grateful Dead. Over the past several years, various compilations have been released, both official and those created by fans. They all have their plusses and minuses, but as far as I could tell, the main thing lacking was my perspective. I could be politically correct and say that the Dead were such a diverse band, and reality being what it is, therefore all opinions hold equal water. But we all know that's bullshit, so here's the best Grateful Dead compilation of them all. You're welcome.  

The Process
The impetus for this compilation was another set put together by a fan: a 26 disc collection entitled Good Old Grateful Dead. Solid stuff, no doubt. But also kind of a mixed bag. The sound quality was inconsistent. Many of the song choices were questionable. For example, there are at least two versions of Lazy Lightning>Supplication. Is even one version needed? But the strengths of this compilation are its breadth and the way it was ordered: chronological. I used this compilation as the initial basis for my collection.

In addition to chronology, I had two other goals for this compilation: no repeats of songs, and to make a definitive statement on the Dead as succinctly as possible. All three goals proved to be a challenge. In order to have a flow through the discs, and to fit as many essential tracks on each disc as possible, chronology had to be sacrificed some. I tried to group tracks from the same era together though. Other times the chronology is intentionally jumbled for effect and contrast, as at the beginning and end of the compilation. Three songs ended up getting repeated, and each for good reason, I believe. I'll explain more about the reason for this in the liner notes. Regarding the final goal, the compilation started out as eight discs, then expanded to nine, and I believe I've finally settled on 11, for a total of about 14 hours and 20 minutes of music. I guess considering all the music the Dead made over the course of their career, that is pretty concise.




I gradually began to whittle off songs from the Good Old compilation that I did not see as essential. I also replaced those with inferior sound quality, and searched my collection and the internet for superior performances of certain songs. The process of looking for one song or performance would always lead to discovering other songs and shows. The more I searched, the more I found, and the more this compilation took on a life of its own.

Three other compilations served as significant source material for the first draft of this compilation: The fan created Garcia Tapes, an instrumental compilation of jam snippets called Jamming at the Edge of Magic, and the officially released box set So Many Roads. The Garcia Tapes is an excellent 8 disc collection of all Jerry material, compiled by a fan, including both the Dead and many of his side projects over the years. All excellent sound quality and performances, but the focus of this set is clearly different than what I was aiming for, as it is almost exclusively "Jerry songs."

So Many Roads also has a number of excellent tracks, but as a whole it is a very frustrating and ultimately failed attempt to represent the Dead. First of all at only 5 discs there is no way the Dead's entire career could be properly represented in such a short span of time. Second, the compilation seems to be pulled in too many different directions, trying to satisfy all but ends up pleasing no one. I'd wager album sales were a primary force in what ended up on this set, as there is a little bit of what everyone likes about the Dead included, from the rarities to the jams to the songs. But I'm sure both the hardcore collector and Touch-heads were left wondering why so many great tunes were left off in favor of limp renditions of Hey Pocky Way and appropriately unreleased studio outtakes like Believe it or Not and Gentleman Start Your Engines. Still, it’s the Dead, so of course there are many great tracks, and a few of those have been included here.



The first round of creating this set left me with 8 solid discs of jam packed material. Largely chronological, the discs told a story of the progression of the band from beginning to end. Each disc had a cohesion and flow to it as well. I loved the set, a great listen from start to finish, but still had the nagging feeling that something was missing.

The main chapter missing from the story seemed to be Pigpen, who was underrepresented in the first draft. At some point, likely a late night YouTube session, I stumbled across a bad ass version of the Dead doing Mannish Boy with Pig on leads vocals.  More on this track in the liner notes, but it had to be included. And from there, the doors just blew off the whole thing, adding more and more until it expanded to the current 11 discs.

One additional fan compilation was used in this next draft: Beautiful Jams volumes 1 & 2. The name pretty much says it all; it's an all instrumental compilation of jams throughout the years, from a minute to several minutes in length for each track. Tracks from this compilation as well as Jamming at the Edge worked nicely to not only represent the great jams over the years, but serve as transitions from one track to another, balancing out the songs, and giving the set a nice flow.

There were several more times I thought I was done editing, only to find one more song, superior performance, or better sound quality. Other times the sequencing of the discs needed reshuffling. One change often lead to several more.

Even when finishing up these liner notes I continued to listen and dig deeper. I found another excellent fan compilation called Jerry Ballads. Its eight discs of soundboard recordings of various ballads throughout the entire history of the band. Excellent performances. I had to swap a few versions out, and add a few songs.

Creating this thing will never end. I've only hit the tip of the iceberg, I just have to accept that, and get this draft done. So it goes. But for now, it'll do. For this draft, eleven amazing discs. The Eleven, if you will. Each disc has at least 79 minutes worth of music, most with just seconds of extra space to spare.

Somewhere in the process of putting this together, I told some friends I was making this, and they expressed interest in getting a copy. I had put so much effort into it, might as well share the love. Then I decided there should be some sort of explanation accompanying the music, describing what I was going for, why songs were chosen and what not. Writing this was probably as intensive as putting the music together, but also very rewarding. It really helped me understand the band, their music, and personalities better. It solidified my preferences, and articulated the qualities about the band I feel are most significant. I hope you'll agree.

It was a labor of love putting this together. And by labor I mean getting buzzed and noodle dancing in my chair while engaging in my favorite activity: listening to the Dead. It was a tough job but somebody had to do it.



The Title
After completing the first draft, I didn't have a title yet, inspiration hadn't struck. While on a trip with college buddies at a lake house outside of Atlanta I took the first draft on a test drive. There I found the needed chemical enhancement to tap into the essence of the Dead I was trying to define.

Watching the 3rd disc of the Closing of Winterland DVD while winding down from an eventful day of tripping balls, it came to me. The set opens with the magnum opus, Dark Star. Though I've heard the song seemingly infinite times, there was something profoundly different this time. First of all, the band is clearly drugged to the gills, who knows what chemical cocktail they've got coursing through their veins. Maybe I could relate. As a very tripped out Jerry Garcia begins to sing the opening verse, the camera pulls into a close up of just his face. And he's staring straight into you singing:

Dark star crashes
pouring its light

into ashes

Reason tatters
the forces tear loose
from the axis


Searchlight casting
for faults in the
clouds of delusion


Through

And it's like a psychedelic invocation, conjuring up the spirits from the nether worlds. That close-up of Jerry's face, singing the words while he's tripping. Things are starting to get weird. Rather than continue to go into such great detail, try it out yourself. Although the first two sets are uneven, the 3rd set is the best video recording of the Dead released thus far.

Skipping ahead a little further in the set and the Dead are jamming out to St. Stephen, the psychedelic call to arms. They're messing around in an instrumental section of the song between verses, and Jerry just keeps taking it further and further.  They could easily go into the next section of the song at any second, but there's Jerry, head down, shit eating grin on his face, having the time of his life. He seemed to be saying, in that weasely voice of his "this is cool, what's the rush, let's hang out here for a while, we'll get there." And so they keep on playing with that melody for a while longer. The intensity builds up to an ecstasy. The crowd is going bonkers. The arena is going to fucking explode. Then bam!, they slide into the next part of the song. That playfulness I believe is the primary defining characteristic of the Dead, and I've tried to capture that spirit here.

In addition to that playfulness, I've tried to capture all my favorite moments from listening to the Dead for 20 some years. The love of the songs, the jams, the personalities, the rockers, the ballads, the darkness, the light, and everything in between and beyond. As it would be impossible to include all the great songs, I believe all the essential ones are here. Some great ones had to be left off. Sorry if your favorite didn't make the cut, but you can make your own compilation. Of those that are included, they're all excellent versions. I can't make any claims that they're the "best version of all time," as I've simply not listened that extensively, but they are all amazing. I'm sure you'll agree.   



Liner Notes
Before reading the details on the tracks below, I'd recommend listening to the entire compilation at least once, to allow yourself to be surprised by what you hear.  Then come back and read this to learn a bit more about the songs. Here's Volume 1.


Disc One: Good Grief
This disc represents the first five or so years of the band. While it may seem an impossibility to sum up that span on one disc, I think it does the job nicely. All the essential songs are included, and other notable moments from this era are well represented in other places, namely Live Dead and Anthem of the Sun. The Dead's repertoire was somewhat limited in the early days. Also, for the first few years, the jamming was kind of a speeded up garage rock psychedelia and faux-blues. Not really my cup of tea. The jamming quickly progressed, but for the most part involved some combination of the same songs. Certainly an era worth sinking your teeth in more deeply, but not for the casual fan.



1.       Good Grief Jam – From the Jamming at the Edge compilation. The band teased Cosmic Charlie coming out of space on 2/27/94, much to the delight and agony of the crowd, as they never went into the long since retired song. So the set actually starts with something from the end of their career, which in a way made sense to me, to show how the beginning was tied to the end. Stylistically interesting, as Jerry finger-picks the melody with that crystalline, almost acoustic tone he got out of his last guitar, Lightning Bolt. My belief is that Jerry's preference for this tone and playing style was due collaborations with David Grisman and re-emersion in folk and bluegrass during this era. Going back to his roots at the end.



2.       Cosmic Charlie – This is an alternate version of the song from Aoxomoxoa. Cool vocal track. One of the few studio tracks included, and the Dead are clearly having fun using the studio as an instrument. Who said they were only a live band?



3.       The Barbed Wire Whipping Post Party – Another Aoxomoxoa outtake. This is the Dead at their weirdest, recreating the sound collages of the Acid Tests, multi-layered vocal and sound effect tracks weaving in and out. Sounds like a demented party, clearly everyone is on drugs. Much more enjoyable song if you're also on drugs while you listen to it.



4.       We Bid You Goodnight – From the Garcia Tapes.  Clearly the thing to do would be to put this track at the end of the compilation, right? And that is initially what I did. So did the Garcia Tapes and Good Old compilations. But what if this song wasn't played at the end? How would the song be received in a different context? We Bid You Goodnight plays off the weirdness that just proceeded in the Whipping Post Party quite nicely. You've just been blasted to outer space, and here's some nice gospel to help with your landing. Safe travels.



5.       That's It for the Other One – So Many Roads box set. This is raw, rocking, and ferociously mind-bending. You can tell from the early stage banter that Garciais clearly twisted.  Doesn't sound like he'll be able to perform. But does he ever. Hard to believe that people in that state of mind could pull this off. But then again, can you imagine a sober person making this music either? This is the best version of this song I've ever heard, and from the run of shows that produced Live Dead. “Beyond the pale” indeed.  I would encourage you to Google the definition and origin of that phrase. Very fitting.



6.       Mountains of the Moon – Garcia Tapes. The first Hunter-Garcia ballad, I believe, and much different from those that would follow. This one is all psychedelic, subtle and sublime. The music, floating acoustic guitar, moody bass, and haunting farfisa organ, are a perfect match for the mysterious bittersweet vocals and lyrics. A shame the song was played for a short period of time, but as you will hear later in the compilation, clearly Garcia would move on stylistically from the esoteric to the more soulful and personal ballads. Can't complain about that.



7.       Beautiful Jam – So Many Roads box set. I think the title pretty much sums it up. It flows out of the first ever version of Wharf Rat, born in the middle of a Dark Star sandwich.



8.       St. Stephen>
9.       The Eleven – Good Ole Grateful Dead. The classic combo, played as well as it's ever been played. The early versions of St. Stephen stuck pretty close to the script, and this one follows suit. For those of you that don't know, St. Stephen was the first martyr for Christianity. But seeing as they weren't a particularly religious band, you'll have to decide to take the lyrics literally or metaphorically. What the lyrics to The Eleven are about is anyone's guess. The song itself is pure ecstasy, with its bright, soaring melody, rhythms getting whipped around, stretching time, then condensing it. Breaking it down, then building it back up again.



10.   Mannish Boy – 12/15/71. The first time the band played the tune, in the middle of a King Bee/Lovelight blues sandwich. They would only play the song once more, while supporting Bo Diddley a few months later. This version features Pigpen on lead vocals. Cool to hear the Dead ripping some straight up Chicago blues, with particularly nice lead guitar and barroom piano. Shame they didn't do this one a few more times, seems they're really feeling it.



11.   Not Fade Away>Darkness Jam>China Cat Jam>Not Fade Away – 9/19/70. A raucous take on Not Fade Away, starting with some primal drumming, the guitars come crashing in, Bobby really leaning into the vocals, and then holding his own nicely against Jerry on the guitar. Almost an Allman-esque duel, you can hear Jerry hinting at Donovan's There is a Mountain. Jerry teased this tune on a number of occasions, the first time being about four months before the Allman Brothers formed, significant of course because the Allamn's turned the tune into Mountain Jam. So did the Dead technically play Mountain Jam first? Well, if you do enough acid, reality is non-linear, so it really doesn't matter. Reality is not being pushed forward by the past, rather pulled forward by the future. But I digress. Jerry then leads the band through a more lyrical passage, another jam performed about four times over the course of a year known as "Darkness," based on the Youngblood's tune Darkness, Darkness. The Youngbloods of course wrote the 60's classic Get Together.  Darkness, Darkness has been covered by a number of artists from the era, including Robert Plant and Eric Burdon. This jam quickly gives way to some spontaneous riffing on China Cat. The Dead played with the China Cat melody in a number of jams from this era. The song itself had still failed to really click, and even fell out of rotation for a while. But luckily they knew they had something unique and kept messing with it. And before you can blink an eye, you're not sure if you hallucinated the China Cat and Jerry is dancing around Mountain Jam again before the whole band slams back into Not Fade Away to close it out. Some of the finest playing of the era.  For more info on Darkness, China Cat, and other common Dead jams, check out this essay, and much of the other fine writing over at Grateful Dead Guide blog. 



12.   Uncle John's Band – Workingman's Dead. It seemed appropriate to close a disc filled with psychedelic goop with one of the Dead's most beautiful songs. While the song was always fun live, none match the perfection of the studio version: the melody, rhythm, vocals, and lyrics, all in perfect unison. From the youthful chaos of the first several years, this song points to the progression on the subsequent disc as the band continues to mature. Although they had hit creative peaks and planted their flag on the psychedelic mountaintop, the evolution continued. What separated them from so many other bands of the era, who kept treading the same terrain over and over, was that the Dead maintained their identity as intergalactic travelers but found new planets to explore and conquer.



Check back later for the next super installment!

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Skywalker Blues

Freaking Out at the Beacon with The Allman Brothers Band

We had talked about making this trip for years, the pilgrimage to New York to catch The Allman Brothers at the Beacon Theatre. I believe they started playing there annually in 1992, with 10 shows that year, and gradually establishing a full month residency each spring. There certainly are enough fans in the region to support the band, and as the popularity of the run grew, it became a destination for hardcore Allmans fans, like a journey to Mecca for fans of blues-rock improv and substance abuse. But the relationship between New York City and the Allmans goes back to their breakthrough classic live album, At Fillmore East. The shows captured on that album, and many others played at the Fillmore, established the Allmans as not only one of the great bands of the era (60's), or genre (Southern Rock - Blues - Psychedelia), but greatest bands period. The two headed snake guitar of Duane and Dickey, authentic Blues singing and songwriting of Greg, and freight train rhythm section of Berry, Butch, and Jamoie combined to create a monstrous and soulful singular sound that is the very essence of Americana in all its mythological tragedy and glory. But this is the real thing folks, not some British invasion striking all the right poses. It's long been said that it took British bands like the Stones, Clapton, and others to reintroduce the Blues to America. Bullshit. Hendrix might've been the only true blues player to come out of the London scene to have a lasting impact on American music, and he was American anyway. The other bands may have been blues enthusiasts, but when playing blues covers they sounded more like imposters, and were much better known for their pop and rock hits. 


The importance of the Allmans in American music history is one of the great realizations I had during the riff Olympics I witnessed at the Beacon. As they were turning the melody of Blue Sky inside out, whipping it around, exploring every nook and cranny of the greatest guitar solo of all time, I came to realize how classic that sound is. It's reminiscent of so much great country, blues, and soul music, without ever sounding derivative. Sadly, Dickey isn't there to sing it. 


Some may point to this, and the fact that the Allmans have been through so many different musicians and configurations during their 45 year tenure, as a detraction. But it is in fact quite the opposite - it's a testament to the greatness of the music and the legacy of the band that they have not only endured but thrived, finally ending up back where it all began: on top in NYC. And though critical consensus views the Yardbirds as being a graduate school for guitarists, having produced Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, and Eric Clapton, the Allmans make it look like junior college and just another British imitation. There is no denying the greatness of Page, Beck, and Clapton, but Dickey, Duane, Derek, and Warren can hold their own if not surpass each one. While I have had my reservations about Derek for a number of years, being technically mind-boggling but emotionally disengaged, my opinion on him has finally come around. He's never gonna pose for a great picture, but like Garcia, he keeps his cool amidst the insanity swirling about, and maintains pure focus on the music. That's the only way to explain the musical acrobatics he pulls off. The things he does seem to exist outside the confines of time and space that normal humans have to deal with. He's fully tapped into a musical language that just oozes out of him. 


The rest of the band members over the years have tapped into that same American rock lexicon, and together created an Allmans family tree that reaches deep down into the soul and blues, and shoots up to the cosmic heavens. Now circling back to the Yardbirds, name one great song they've put out? You can't. Train Kept A-Rollin? Even a shit-hole American band like Aerosmith did a better version. For Your Love? Fuck you. They suck. In conclusion, eat it England!


The other great realization I had while I found myself trapped in a swirling wormhole of Southern rock riffs, self-loathing, and dancing mushrooms, was that being such a mythical American band, it would make sense that the Allmans would fall into some type of archetypal pattern. And viewing Derek as the former prodigy man-child who had become the master, possibly surpassing his forefathers, the hero's journey they embarked on seems most analogous to that of Star Wars. Yeah, I know, it's fucking clown shoes, but bear with me for a minute.


I'm not the first one to compare guitar players to Jedi maters, gun-slingers, or Samurais. Basically Star Wars was a sci-fi Samurai/Western retelling of the hero's journey. It certainly does seem to take an ability to connect to some kind of "force" to be able to pull off what guitar players like Duane and Derek do. It's more than just nimble fingers, but an ability to tap into an alternate state of consciousness and access the wisdom of some unknown - the collective unconscious, a true self, "god," the mushroom elves, Zen. To tap into that state takes not only dedication and work, but a certain fearlessness and openness to experience. Playing improv music, one wrong note and the whole thing can fall apart if you let it. They're out there on the edge with nothing to hold on to. As I said before, the music they play seems to disregard the normal constraints of time and space. When it seems they're too far gone and they won't get to the end of the measure on time, miraculously they make a turn on a dime and blow your mind in the process. During the Other One jam in Black Hearted Woman, they seemingly play with the very nature of time, stretching it out, speeding it up, or slowing it down. Or they seamlessly drop in a tease or quote from another song during a jam. In the really immense moments, you lose track of what song they're playing all together, and it all becomes part of one great big Allman Brothers song, a riff so classic that it could be from any number of tunes, yet it's totally unique.


So essentially if you start with Derek as Luke, the young Jedi in training, you can match the rest of the Allmans with their archetypal Star Wars counterparts. The long deceased Duane as Obi Wan, mentoring Derek from the after-life, guiding him in the ways of the force, and battling Dickey, who takes on the role of Darth Vader, for control of Derek's soul. Eventually Derek surpasses his mentors and restores the kingdom that is the Allman Brothers. In the process, he saves the princess, in this case Susan Tedeschi, also strong in the ways of the force/blues as was Leia. But this being a Southern tale, rather than being siblings they get married. Also, consider that Derek has reconciled with his "dark father" Dickey, having played with him recently in his own band, and expressed hopes that Dickey would join the Allmans at the Beacon for one last hurrah. As for the rest of the cast, Greg fits the Yoda mold, a wise old sage, speaking blues riddles, hunched over and hobbled by age, but strong in spirit. Allen Woody is obviously Chewbacca. No explanation there is really needed. That being the case, Warren would be Han Solo, and I've always viewed Warren as a more a gunfighter and mercenary than Samurai. Marc and Jaimoe are R2 and C3PO, respectively, having access to the multiple rhythmic languages of the universe, and keeping the whole machine flying. Oteil would be Lando. He's a smooth operator and a bad motherfucker (and ok, he's black). That would leave Butch, and although it may seem like we're running out of characters, if you think about it, it seems obvious that Butch is the Millennium Falcon. Next time you hear him behind those big kettle drums, ask yourself if it doesn't remind you of the power of a jet engine making the jump to light speed. 


Other characters have come and gone, and times have been up and down for this band over a miraculous 45 year career. They've seen the heights of creative success, succumbed to the excess of commercial adoration, suffered the loss of founding members, and were the prototype Southern rock cliche. Now they're back on top for a final victory lap. But much like Return of the Jedi, is this the end of the story, or the beginning of a new chapter?


So it's probably clear by now that not only did I enjoy the two shows I saw in NYC, but things also got pretty weird. As for the music, I went in not knowing what to expect, and really just hoping for a great experience. I hadn't seen the Allmans in close to ten years, for a variety of reasons: no Dickey, Derek is technically amazing but at the same time emotionally underwhelming, Greg is burnt, too many covers, they're cashing in, etc. The Beacon run is also known for having a cavalcade of guests, but aside from a standout like Dickey, Clapton, Trey, or Buddy Guy, my preference was for limited guests, as they tend to break up the flow of the shows, and I was coming to see the Allmans, not some random keyboard or sax player. Luckily, and somewhat surprisingly, it ended up being two completely guest free shows. My only other hopes were to see what I consider to be the classic trio of Allmans tunes: Statesboro Blues, Liz Reed, and Mtn. Jam. My hopes were somewhat dashed, as they had played both Statesboro and Mtn. Jam at the previous show, but I knew there were still a lot of great tunes in store. 


The first set on 3/14 came ripping out of the gate in typical Allman's fashion. Hoochie Coochie Man and Come and Go Blues were standouts. Dr. John's Walk on Guilded Splinters was a nice surprise, as we had been talking about that tune earlier in the day - a gumbo of dark blues, psychedelia, and Nawlins funk. Ain't Wasting Time No More was a nice reminder of the genius of Greg's songwriting, with lyrics that ring as true as any of his peers from the 60's:

Last Sunday morning, the sunshine felt like rain.
Week before, they all seemed the same.
With the help of God and true friends, I come to realize
I still had two strong legs, and even wings to fly.

And oh I, ain't wastin time no more
'Cause time goes by like hurricanes, and faster things.

Lord, lord Miss Sally, why all your cryin'?
Been around here three long days, you're lookin' like you're dyin'.
Just step yourself outside, and look up at the stars above
Go on downtown baby, find somebody to love.

Meanwhile I ain't wastin' time no more
'Cause time goes by like pouring rain, and much faster things.

You don't need no gypsy to tell you why
You can't let one precious day slip by.
Look inside yourself, and if you don't see what you want,
Maybe sometimes then you don't,
But leave your mind alone and just get high.

Well by and by, way after many years have gone,
And all the war freaks die off, leavin' us alone.
We'll raise our children in the peaceful way we can,
It's up to you and me brother
To try and try again.

Well, hear us now, we ain't wastin' time no more
'Cause time goes by like hurricanes
Runnin' after subway trains
Don't forget the pouring rain.


Set 2 started off on a mellow note with the yearning of sweet Melissa. That set the stage for the classic Allmans extravaganza that was to come. I was aware they had been playing Blue Sky for the past few years, but had mixed feelings about doing it without Dickey. I had even enjoyed Warren playing it with Phil Lesh years back, but still it didn't seem right to play it in the Allmans without its author. I certainly came around on that one. With this type of performance, it really didn't matter what the names of the people on stage were. Every note was flawless and true to the original melody, and they opened it up and put on an Allman Brothers guitar clinic. The fact that Dickey wasn't there was bittersweet, making me appreciate his genius, but relieved he wasn't there to screw it up. Dickey would continue to haunt much of the rest of the set. 


The cheery psychedelia of Blue Sky quickly gave way to the darkness of Black Hearted Woman, one of the standout jams of the weekend. The Allmans have been playing this tune a lot lately, but I was curious about its performance history, and also the origins of the Other One jam played within the song. It was released on their debut album, but doesn't appear in any early setlists that I've ever seen. I searched the internet for some clues, but came up with nothing, so I sent an email to Alan Paul, author of the recent Allmans biography One Way Out, to see if he had any insight. Unfortunately he was unaware when the song entered the setlist rotation, but did mention that Warren brought the Other One jam to the tune, and that it is a standout of any Allmans show these days. I've already commented on Warren and Derek's ability to elasticize time during the Other One jam, but also have to point out that Oteil is the driving force behind this tune, throwing his whole body into the performance and laying it down in the best way any bass player can: both heavy and fluid. He pushes the drummer into overdrive, and the whole thing becomes a time warp. The Other One is truly one of the great jams to see live, as it whips around the room and keeps you on the edge of a cliff for the whole journey. I'll take a Grateful Dead jam at any show, and this is one for the ages, a jam that every concert goer should experience regardless of whether they ever got to see the Dead or not.


Up next was probably my favorite Allmans ballad, Seven Turns, and along with Back Where it All Begins, among the best Allmans tunes of the last 25 years. They had performed this Dickey penned tune for the first time without its author at the Beacon the week before, so I was really antsy to hear it. Oteil handled the vocals, and he's got an excellent, albeit under-utilized voice. But it was hard not to think of Dickey during this soulful ballad. I was probably reading into things a bit too much, but after already playing Dickey's best known tune in Blue Sky, it seemed like they were either trying to communicate something directly to Dickey, or at least to the fans about Mr. Richard Betts. It seemed to be an attempt to acknowledge Dickey's legacy, but also calling him out for the angry drunk he had become, and his previous refusals to make appearances with the band (he declined invitations to join the band at their Beacon run in 2009, and was a no show for their lifetime achievement award at the Grammys). Much like the music, the history of the Allman Brothers is dramatic and filled with tension.

Seven turns on the highway,
Seven rivers to cross.
Sometimes, you feel like you could fly away,
Sometimes, you get lost.

And sometimes, in the darkened night,
You see the crossroad sign.
One way is the mornin light,
You got to make up your mind.

Somebody's callin your name.
Somebody's waiting for you.
Love is all that remains the same,
That's what it's all comin to.


Rockin' Horse, much like Black Hearted Woman, is a song that has done well in the Warren era of the Allmans. It gets things cooking with some dirty guitar and lyrics that wouldn't be out of place in a ZZ Top song. Get On With Your Life was a slow burning blues with the spotlight directly on Greg throughout. A nice chance for a breather in a blistering set. The finale of the set was my favorite of all Allmans tunes, and the one I would have been disappointed had they not played it, Liz Reed. Another Dickey tune, this instrumental is the distillation of what the Allmans are all about. It's like the entire history of the South in music, played out as well as any novel could describe: drama, agony, tragedy, glory, bliss, and heartache channeled through the blues-jazz-country-rock hybrid that is the Allman's sound. It's all there, and they played the shit out of it. A bouncy One Way Out encore finished off the show and sent us out into the New York night tweaking away.


 After the first night, going for another round almost seems pointless. It would be just too hard to top. But with some help from Shake Shack and a steady diet of libations, I felt just about normal enough to make it to the show. 

3/15/2014
Set 1:

Don't Want You No More >
It's Not My Cross To Bear
You Don't Love Me
Statesboro Blues
Hot 'Lanta
Spots Of Time
Don't Keep Me Wonderin'
Old Before My Time
Smokestack Lightnin'      with James van der Bogert, drums
Midnight Rider with James van der Bogert, drums
No One To Run With        

Set 2:

Rain
The High Cost Of Low Living
Worried Down With The Blues
Dreams
Why Does Love Got To Be So Sad? with Duane Trucks, drums
Jessica

Encore: Whipping Post

The first set kicked off with the classic combo of Don't Want You Know More>Not My Cross to Bear. From there on, we were just able to keep on checking classic Allman's songs off the list. The first set was jam packed with a lot of the hits, played short but to the point. I even got Statesboro from my wish list, much to my surprise appearing in the middle of the first set. I wasn't aware that the Allmans did Smokestack Lightning, and seeing as that's one of the great blues tunes of all time, it was another treat. Warren even busted out a megaphone briefly, about as close as he can come to emulating the Wolf's growl. The set finished off with a nice version of No One to Run With. Like any tune with that classic Bo Diddley/Buddy Holly beat, it's not going to win any points for originality, but it's a solid rocker. The highlight of the tune was undoubtedly the video screens, which overlapped footage of both Duane and Allen Woody, to make it appear as though they were jamming with each other and the rest of the band. It was ridiculously awesome.


I had never been much of a fan of the Allman's version of Rain, but this one changed my thinking. Cool to hear the Beatles psychedelic anthem transformed into a Southern soul ballad. The second set kept a mellow tone through the next two songs as well, setting the stage nicely for the meat of the set. We had been waiting for Dreams all weekend, and it did not disappoint. Again, it's the blues channeled through a psychedelic vision, and a song that gradually builds up to a frantic peak, allowing Derek to burn the place down. From there was another surprise, Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad? Of all the Derek and the Dominoes tunes, with the possible exception of Layla, this is the one the Allmans do best. In particular, the plaintive guitar outro, from which they gradually transitioned into a drums jam. Next came the expected Jessica to end the set, and it was everything you could hope it would be and more. No, we didn't get the full Mtn. Jam we wanted, but they did take Jessica far enough out there so that they were able to tease that cosmic first there is a mountain melody for a few bars before moving on and leaving many to wonder if it ever really happened. 


For the encore, there was only one logical conclusion to this tale, obvious to many in attendance calling out for the Whipping Post. It's a song that's been played to death, but for good reason: it's a hard rock juggernaut. From the opening bass rumble, the song chugs along building up to the chorus until you feel as though you literally have been whipped around. Musically it contains a lot of the same drama and intensity as Liz Reed, but adding fairly standard blues lyrics about a relationship gone bad, until you get to the chorus and title of the song. Seems kind of strange for a Southern band to be comparing a relationship to being tied to a whipping post, and it's hard not to think of slavery and the South's tumultuous past. The music seems to mirror that darkness. But maybe I'm reading into things a bit too much again here. Regardless, we went out into the night not just satisfied, but shocked and awed. Or feeling like we had just been tied to a post and whipped. Or well, just had our gourds blown by the Allman Bros. Or something more tame than that likely. 


So there's the bittersweet end to my Allmans concert-going career. Though it seems unlikely, even if I did have the opportunity to see them again, I'd probably have to pass. There is no way what I experienced can be topped. I'm lucky to have had a victory lap with the Allmans, be reminded of the depth of their genius, and discover that they continue to be something much more than a classic rock relic. This is music for the ages, part of a great mythological tradition of crossroads and salvation, life and death, love and hate, that hopefully future fans of the blues and live music will come to discover and appreciate.


"There ain't no revolution, it's evolution, but every time I'm in Georgia I eat a peach for peace."
Duane Allman


Duane might've said the same about pastrami in New York.