by Paul, Alan
From that first moment, it was like I had people to really play with, to interact with in such a way that everything opened up. They just freed everything up. And then we set out to find other people who could fit into this puzzle and help us take it further.
Duane had the vision from the start, because Duane could see stuff like he had a crystal ball as big as the earth. It didn’t have to be music, either. He understood what was going on with people, and he knew who he was.
Anything worthwhile takes work and everything goes up and down. If you don’t really understand those two things, you’ll do a million things in life and never find the right thing. You’ll always say, “There’s no market for this.” You have to create something so great that you create a market that didn’t exist. Suddenly something no one ever thought of before seems obvious. This is what we did with the Allman Brothers Band.
I used to sit in the music room in high school reading Downbeat magazine about guys who had been in Duke Ellington’s band for thirty years and thinking, “How in the hell is that possible?” Now I’ve been in this band for forty-five years.
One thing I’ve learned in life is hindsight ain’t always 20/20. History is complicated and everyone sees it differently, understands it in his or her own way. The Allman Brothers Band history involves a lot of people and there are as many versions of what happened as there are people involved in making it happen. That’s why this book gets the history as right as possible; Alan Paul spoke to everyone he could, let them have their say—tell their version of the truth—and then laid it out. You can’t try to escape the shit you did in life.
Things just happen in ways you never could plan out and then you accept them and react to them. One indisputable fact is that whatever has happened to, and with, the Allman Brothers Band, we’ve persevered.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to everyone whose words form the core of this book. I very literally couldn’t have done this without your time and cooperation and your interest in making sure I got the story right. Very special thanks to the current and former members of the Allman Brothers Band with whom I spoke, often repeatedly: Gregg Allman, Dickey Betts, Butch Trucks, Jaimoe, Warren Haynes, Derek Trucks, Oteil Burbridge, Marc Quiñones, Allen Woody, Chuck Leavell, Jack Pearson, Johnny Neel, Jimmy Herring, David Goldflies, and Mike Lawler. Thank you Butch and Jaimoe, for your editorial contributions, and Warren, for always answering the call.
Major thanks to everyone else who took the time to speak with me and share their thoughts and memories of the Allman Brothers Band: Bert Holman, Jonny Podell, Kim Payne, Linda Oakley, Phil Walden, Tom Dowd, John Hammond Jr., Reese Wynans, Johnny Sandlin, Scott Boyer, Mama Louise Hudson—and thanks for the vittles—Stephen Paley, Jon Landau, W. David Powell, Gary Rossington, Eric Clapton, Bobby Whitlock, Billy Gibbons, Buddy Guy, Col. Bruce Hampton, David Grissom, Dick Wooley, Kirk West, Red Dog, Bunky Odom, Willie Perkins, Bob Weir, Steve Parish, Dr. John, Mike Callahan, Rick Hall, John McEuen, Zakk Wylde, Danny Goldberg, Don Law, Skoots, A. J. and John Lyndon, Michael Caplan, John Scher, Jon Landau, Richard Price, Les Dudek, Matt Abts, Jackie Avery, Sidney Smith, and Thom “Ace” Doucette.
Thank you to all the photographers whose work graces these pages, and to Tore Claesson for the portrait.
In loving memory of Duane Allman, Berry Oakley, Allen Woody, Tom Dowd, Phil Walden, Lamar Williams, Red Dog, Twiggs Lyndon, Mike Callahan, Joe Dan Petty, Dan Toler, Frankie Toler, and any other deceased member of the extended Allman Brothers family.
Managers Bert Holman, Michael Lehman, Stefani Scarmado, Blake Budney, David Spero, and C. J. Strock have been incredibly supportive and helpful in setting up interviews and providing insight and information—in some cases for several decades. Thank you all.
I’m thankful to Kirk West, my brother in all things Brothers, for decades of friendship, support, and serious music raps. He also served as a superb photo editor, and he conducted the interviews with Red Dog and Mike Callahan, the only conversations included in this book that did not involve me.
Kirk and his wife, Kirsten, who have also provided me a home away from home in Macon, did yeoman’s work setting up the fabulous Allman Brothers Band Museum at the Big House, which would not exist if they hadn’t brought the property back into the family fold. E. J. Devokaitis has stepped into their shoes in admirable fashion as curator and director. The place is a pleasure to visit and a treasure trove for fans of the band. The Big House Archives provided this book with a tremendous amount of depth and insight. I urge all Allman Brothers fans to visit and support the Big House and I thank E. J. and the museum for their assistance and support in writing One Way Out.
John Lynskey and Joe Bell of Hittin’ the Note have been great supporters, and their passion for the ABB continues to amaze and inspire. Thank you to John, A.J., and Skoots Lyndon for helping bring their brother Twiggs to life and for their overall support and assistance. Linda Oakley was also a special source of information and insight, and a true pleasure to get to know.
My agent, David Dunton, believed in this book immediately and pushed me to think big in all regards. Marc Resnick at St. Martin’s has been an enthusiastic, insightful editor from the moment he heard about the idea for One Way Out. Thank you both for your belief and support in making this happen.
Guitar World’s Brad Tolinski was a major inspiration in the creation of One Way Out, which began as a GW cover story. Brad has been a friend and mentor for a very long time. He and Jeff Kitts have continued to assign me great stories about the Allmans and others for two decades. Andy Aledort is a great friend and a brilliant guitarist. We have spent countless hours talking about the music of the Allman Brothers. Dickey Betts is lucky to have him. Thank you, to Sam Enriquez, for giving this manuscript a thorough, helpful read, and to Jack Weston, for guidance on art and memorabilia
My wife, Becky, has been a source of inspiration, support, and love forever, or so it seems, and she has never once asked why I was going to another Allman Brothers show. Watching my son Jacob develop a love and respect for the Allman Brothers, and so much other great music, has been a pleasure, and nothing makes me happier than attending a show with him. He, Eli, and Anna are my greatest creations by far.
Thank you to my brother David for turning me on to Eat a Peach and so much other great music, and for letting me hang out with the big kids. Thanks to my parents, Dixie Doc, and Suzi, Laura, and Jon Kessler, and my extended family for their unending support. It takes a village to raise children—mine at least—and I appreciate every ounce of help. Aunt Joan is also a crackerjack proofreader.
Thanks to my bandmates in both Woodie Alan (Beijing) and Big in China (Maplewood, New Jersey). Support live music!
Thank you for buying and reading this book.
APPENDIX
A Highly Opinionated ABB Discography
There is an endless array of compilations available, several of which feature liner note essays by me. Most of them will do the job if you want a little taste of the Allman Brothers Band—but you need more than that if you’ve read this far. I left them all out, in favor of collections that were originally released as albums and official archival live releases. Albums are listed in chronological order of release.
THE PEACHES—THE BEST OF THE BEST
On their second album, Idlewild South (1970, ****), the Allman Brothers Band really began to come into its own. Includes “Midnight Rider,” the aching “Please Call Home,” and the first version of Betts’s masterful instrumental “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed,” which sounds one-dimensional compared with the live majesty that was soon to come. The entire album is essential listening.
At Fillmore East (1971, *****) captured the band’s instrumental glory and improvisatory magic in peak form. Arguably rock’s greatest record, the double album holds only seven very long songs—and nary a wasted note.
Eat a Peach (1972, ****) includes more tunes from the Fillmore, including the 33-minute “Mountain Jam”—which back in the days of vinyl co
nsumed two sides—as well as great new tunes like “Melissa” and “Blue Sky.” I usually start ABB neophytes here, because the album highlights every side of the band. “Mountain Jam” lacks the urgency of the Fillmore cuts, costing this half a star. Everything else is perfect, including the glorious guitar break on “Blue Sky,” the song that could end all world conflict.
Brothers and Sisters (1973, ****), the Brothers’ first post-Duane album, includes the band’s biggest hits—“Ramblin’ Man,” “Jessica,” and “Southbound.” You can hear directions changing. Lacks the focused intensity of everything that has come before, but still a great album—and mostly Dickey’s album. The 2013 deluxe version, including outtakes and a great live show, is a worthy upgrade.
An Evening with … Second Set (1995, ****) provides a good overview of what the band sounded like at the height of their 1990s reunion, when Warren Haynes and Allen Woody helped resurrect the institution. Betts’s majestic “Where It All Begins” and the overall slightly stronger collection of then-current songs gives it an edge over the also-strong First Set.
FURTHER LISTENING
Sooner or later, you have to own Dreams (1989, ****), a four-disc collection that does everything a boxed set should.
WORTH SEARCHING FOR
An Acoustic Evening with the Allman Brothers Band & the Indigo Girls (1992, ****) captures the Brothers’ acoustic performance at a record biz convention. They hit seven tracks out of the park, from an impromptu “Liz Reed,” which later appeared on Second Set, to “Seven Turns.” The band inexplicably missed out on the early ’90s Unplugged craze despite being one of the first bands to appear on the MTV show, and one of the few to really shine in an acoustic setting.
WHAT TO AVOID
The Allmans’ worst albums, Brothers of the Road (**) and Reach for the Sky (*) were replaced by Hell and High Water (1994, **;), which, while still weak, includes some pretty good material and eliminate the worst offenders. Still, there’s no good reason for anyone but completists to purchase this album.
Peakin’ at the Beacon (2000, **) is an odd release—the band let Dickey Betts go because of what they termed subpar playing on his final spring tour, then fulfilled their Sony contract by releasing songs from Betts’s final Beacon run with the band. He sounds OK, actually, but it’s a dispirited set—definitely not a peak.
THE REST
The Allman Brothers Band (1969, ***) is a remarkably sure, mature debut filled with songs that have become classics. The production muffles the brilliance.
Beginnings (1973, ****) combines the band’s first two albums in full, making it an excellent choice.
Win, Lose or Draw (1975, **) is the sound of a band in free fall. It lacks the cohesion and fire that marked their first five albums, but includes two great songs: a ripping take on Muddy Waters’s “Can’t Lose What You Never Had” and “High Falls,” another stellar Betts instrumental.
People made fun of the live Wipe the Windows, Check the Oil, Dollar Gas (1976, ***) when it came out, but the live collection holds up well and is an interesting snapshot of the version of the band featuring keyboardist Chuck Leavell and bassist Lamar Williams.
Seven Turns (1990, ****) was an excellent return to form—much stronger than most of us expected after the flaccid ’80s comeback had petered out. More than twenty years later, it stands its ground. The album was the group’s best overall studio effort since Brothers and Sisters, paving the way for the long run that has followed.
Live at Ludlow Garage (1991, ***) is a very solid live set from April, 1970 that is mostly interesting for showing just how much the band grew in the ensuing year before recording At Fillmore East. Only essential for hardcore fans.
Shades of Two Worlds (1991, ***) was less consistent but more ambitious than its predecessor and drove home the fact that the Allmans were back and once again a force to be reckoned with.
I have mixed feelings about The Fillmore Concerts (1992, ****), which presented an expanded version of At Fillmore East. The sound is superb, it’s great to hear some extra tracks, like “Drunken Hearted Boy” with Elvin Bishop, and cool to hear the Eat a Peach “Mountain Jam” follow “Whipping Post,” as it was originally played. But producer Tom Dowd performed a sacrilege when he replaced the original “Liz Reed” with a new version that spliced together two different performances. Why mess with perfection?
An Evening with … First Set (1992, ****) captures the band in their early ’90s glory, with Haynes and Betts throwing lightning bolts at each other.
Where it All Begins (1994, ***) is inconsistent but contains some of the best material the ’90s Brothers produced.
Hittin’ the Note (2003, ***) is the band’s first and only studio recording without Betts and they sometimes miss his distinct songwriting. This is a strong collection, however; a batch of new songs featuring the Haynes/Truck guitar teaming was most welcome.
Live at the Atlanta International Pop Festival July 3 & 5, 1970 (2003, ****) may be the most essential of the secondary live releases, capturing the band as they fully rounded into form. This is a smoking hot two-CD set, and includes some hilarious hippie-dippie introductions from the festival MC.
One Way Out: Live at the Beacon Theater (2004, ***) captures the band’s current Haynes/Trucks lineup in great form on a contemporary set list, heavy with material from Hittin’ the Note. As always, the songs come to life on stage.
The group has released a steady stream of their own archival releases, each selected for some historic reason.
American University 12/13/70 (2002, ***) was recorded on the heels of two nights and four shows at the Fillmore East and the strain of the road can be heard on the opening “Statesboro Blues”—in Gregg’s cracked voice, Duane’s and Dickey’s occasional flubs, some rhythm section wobble—but then the band pulls together and locks in on a ferocious “Whipping Post” and they’re off to the races. This was no doubt also a sentimental choice of manager Bert Holman, who booked the shows as an American University freshman.
SUNY at Stony Brook: Stony Brook, NY, 9/19/71 (2003, ***) captures the band six months after the Fillmore shows and just five weeks before Duane’s death. This is the kind of tape that used to be traded religiously by the faithful. Bad sound quality for the first few songs is offset by a great performance—and the chance to hear one of the few live Duane versions of “Blue Sky.”
Macon City Auditorium: 2/11/72 (2004, ***) documents the band playing as a five-piece and coming to musical grips with Duane’s death. His absence is sometimes deafening, but this set captures the band’s amazing ability to keep on keeping on. Oakley’s bass rumbles with extra fury and Dickey Betts’s evolution and ability to start playing slide and step to the fore as the sole guitarist is rather remarkable. Hats off to the cat in the hat, though it’s hard not to feel sad at times listening to this recording.
Nassau Coliseum, Uniondale, NY, 5/1/73 (2005, ****) was cut just three months before Brothers and Sisters was released and includes “Wasted Words,” “Jessica,” “Come & Go Blues,” and “Ramblin’ Man” from the forthcoming album. This was one of the first shows played with bassist Lamar Williams and keyboardist Chuck Leavell, and it illustrates the band’s brilliance in reimagining themselves in the horrible shadows of Berry Oakley’s and Duane Allman’s deaths. You can hear how they beautifully reimagined Dickey and Duane’s harmonies into three parts featuring Chuck’s keys and Gregg’s organ. This was the start of a short-lived second run at the brass ring.
Boston Common—Boston, MA, 8/17/71 (2007, ***) Six weeks after the release of At Fillmore East and ten weeks before Duane’s death, the band returned triumphantly to the Boston Common, where they had played free shows as an unknown band just two years prior. The highlight is a 26-minute “You Don’t Love Me.”
SOLO OUTINGS AND OTHER BANDS
Gregg Allman
Laid Back (1973, *****) is probably the best solo album by any ABB member. The soulful, folk-infused rock always resonates. “These Days” and “All My Friends” a
re masterful interpretations. In retrospect, the fact that Gregg remade two songs from Idlewild South just three years after its release was a warning about a coming lack of songwriting productivity, though both “Midnight Rider” and “Please Call Home” shine in their new versions and offer revealing hints of Gregg’s own musical vision versus that of the collective ABB.
The Gregg Allman Tour (1974, ***) is a great document of GA’s ambitious post-Laid Back solo tour, featuring an orchestra, full horn section, and sweeping backup singers. Lush and soulful.
Playin’ Up a Storm (1977, ***) has some very nice moments, but the L.A. production sheen prevents it from reaching the heights of Laid Back.
I’m No Angel (1987, ***) has some worthy tracks, notably the title song, but much of it sounds dated; the same production that allowed the album to be a hit in 1987 has not helped it age well. The album closes with GA’s reprise of the ABB’s “Don’t Want You No More”/“Cross to Bear”—cool to hear him perform live but a pointless exercise to record and indicative of a lack of creative spark.
Just Before the Bullets Fly (1988, **) has one standout track—the title cut, written by Warren Haynes, who was soon to help Gregg and Co. resuscitate the ABB.
Searching for Simplicity (1997, ***) has a few throw-away tracks, but it is a strong album—Gregg’s finest new solo work since Laid Back. He once again tackles an ABB classic with the album-opening “Whipping Post,” but this time the song is refashioned and driven by Jack Pearson’s slide guitar.
Low Country Blues (2010, ***) Producer T-Bone Burnett pulls out a series of blues and R&B chestnuts and Gregg delivers them well, but the album leaves me feeling that it could have been so much more, as hinted at by the excellent cosmic cowboy version of “Midnight Rider” Gregg performed with Burnett’s large orchestra for several benefit shows. Backed by horns, pedal steel, and mandolin, Gregg took his old standby somewhere new and it would be great to hear him tackle more tunes in a similar fashion. Burnett went sparse, but Gregg also shines going grand.