Gregg Allman: Laid Back

While the rest of his band (or what was left of it) was putting together Brothers And Sisters, Gregg Allman was hopping between there and another set of players for his own solo album. True to its title, Laid Back presents music more suited towards the end of the party as opposed to trying to get one going.

In a truly odd move, he begins with a version of “Midnight Rider” that downplays the defiance of the original with a more haunted, hunted feel. Without a hotshot guitar to take over, a new bridge sports unobtrusive horns. The horns stick around for “Queen Of Hearts”, a terrific torchy number that touches on jazz, its instrumental breaks jumping between 6/8 and 5/8. By contrast, “Please Call Home” is made over with a bigger arrangement, even a female choir, but still remains the same song. After three moody tracks, “Don’t Mess Up A Good Thing” is an oddly timed dose of boogie.

Jackson Browne’s “These Days” was not yet a standard, but this version had a lot to do with how it became one. Gregg’s voice is perfect for the melancholy of the song, particularly the final couplet (“please don’t confront me with my failures/I’m aware of them”). “Multi-Colored Lady” comes the closest to a true Allman Brothers Band candidate, a mildly sleepy tune bettered by “All My Friends”, which sounds familiar until you realize the initial melody was used by Neil Young for “Comes A Time”. The little switch in the key at the end of each verse is very effective. Finally, “Will The Circle Be Unbroken” is the gospel standard, played with fervor and passion.

Particularly for those less enamored with Southern rock, Laid Back is a surprisingly fresh change of pace from the established Allman Brothers brand. The strings and horns have a lot to do with the smooth sound, without straying too far into Adult Contemporary territory, and we can thank Chuck Leavell’s touch on the piano. The cover art is hideous, courtesy of the same guy who did Bitches Brew and Abraxas, but that was the ‘70s for you. (Many years later, the album was given the Deluxe Edition treatment, with the original sequence bolstered on one disc with “early mixes” of the tracks, plus a second disc loaded with demos, even more alternate mixes, another version of “Wasted Words”, and a live performance of “Melissa”, recorded a year later and dedicated to Brother Duane.)

Gregg Allman Laid Back (1973)—3½
2019 Deluxe Edition: same as 1973, plus 26 extra tracks

Allman Brothers 5: Brothers And Sisters

Their career had barely started when the Allman Brothers Band seemed truly cursed. Already adjusting to life without one member, now they had to contend with the death of under-appreciated bass player Berry Oakley in a motorcycle wreck all too similar to Duane’s. They had already begun recording their next album, and continued with a new bass player, as well as the now-legendary Chuck Leavell on piano to take some pressure off Gregg, who was preoccupied with his own album anyway. Amidst this disorder, Dickey Betts took over and ran the show for the better part of the next 17 years.

As their first single LP in a while, as well as containing no live material, Brothers And Sisters is forced to compare with what’s come before, and with different weapons in their arsenal. Four of the tracks are credited to Dickey alone, with Gregg writing two. One of those is “Wasted Words”, a great opener lyrically and musically, showing how well Dickey had progressed on slide guitar. But right when you’re settling in for a decent listen, here comes “Ramblin’ Man”, one of the band’s biggest hits and least representative of them at their best. Whatever your opinion of southern rock, this song paved the way; after four decades of exposure these ears can only tolerate the well-sculpted second half, with those precise guitar harmonies from Dickey and guest Les Dudek. “Come And Go Blues” is Gregg’s only other contributed composition, with shades of Bobby Whitlock from the Layla album. It’s got the hallmarks of a good long jam, but ends too abruptly. In its place is “Jelly Jelly”, an arrangement of a song from several different sources in the “Stormy Monday” mode that sounds a lot longer than it is. It too fades, having us wonder what we missed.

Returning to the brevity of their first albums, side two has three songs, each very different, all written by Dickey, or so the label says. “Southbound” is decent boogie with lots of piano, and the last time we’ll hear Gregg’s voice on the album. “Jessica” is the other most recognized song here, a lengthy instrumental that sits at the intersection of “In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed” and “Revival”. It’s almost impossible not to smile while it plays. Finally, “Pony Boy” is an acoustic hoedown in the style of Robert Johnson, ably supported by Chuck, no Gregg or Jaimoe in sight.

Brothers And Sisters can’t help but to be less than stellar; as it was, the wheels had certainly come off the band, and wouldn’t return until a guy named Warren Haynes came into the picture. To be fair, Dickey holds his own and anybody else’s with the guitar duties, and Chuck Leavell was an excellent addition to the mix. Arriving alongside the first Lynyrd Skynyrd album and riding the southern rock wave through the rest of the decade, its popularity seemingly justified the release of a 40th anniversary Deluxe Edition, bolstered by a disc of jams and rehearsals, surpassed by a Super Deluxe Edition that also added two discs with a Winterland performance showing off the new lineup.

The Allman Brothers Band Brothers And Sisters (1973)—3
2013 Deluxe Edition: same as 1973, plus 9 extra tracks (Super Deluxe Edition adds another 17 tracks)

Allman Brothers 4: Eat A Peach

Just like that, Duane Allman was dead, leaving behind his band and his brother. An album already started would end up as a tribute, and Eat A Peach neatly straddles what he started and where they’d go, for better or worse. Their albums to date were either brief or live, and here they provide a little bit of both.

Side one was recorded after the fact, and it presents the band keeping a brave face. “Ain’t Wasting Time No More” is an excellent statement of purpose, from the grand piano intro to Dickey’s impeccable slide playing—not his forte, but well done here. Dickey gets credit for “Les Brers In A Minor”, a nine-minute jam in the tradition of “Elizabeth Reed”. It’s a fascinating piece, developing from nothing into a tremendous sound. Then there’s “Melissa”, which Gregg says was his brother’s favorite song, gently played on acoustics, with Dickey again imagining what Duane would have played.

It’s back to the Fillmore East for side two, which presents the first half of “Mountain Jam”. From the first few rambling measures one might confuse this with a Grateful Dead recording, until the guitars let loose and the organ follows. It’s a totally live performance, with a few bum notes here and there to prove it, and it takes a while to get used to, especially if you’re not into drum solos. The side fades as Berry begins his bass solo, and that’s roughly where it fades back on side four. The band finds its way back in with a quote from “Third Stone From The Sun”, and the dynamics begin anew. Somehow they get to an arpeggiated ending— not bad for a jam built on a melody by Donovan, of all people. (Modern-day CDs present the whole 33 minutes uninterrupted in the middle of the program.)

Side three presents a mix of live and studio, all featuring Duane to some extent. First are a pair of blues standards recorded at the Fillmore; “One Way Out” sizzles, as does a decent reprise of “Trouble No More”—mixed very well to show off the band across the stereo picture. “Stand Back” is a funky shuffle driven by electric piano, not bad but not the high point. For some, that pinnacle would be “Blue Sky”, the Dickey tune that lays a blueprint for southern rock at its worst, and a redneck anthem today. The last word, not counting the continuation of “Mountain Jam”, comes from Duane, playing the pretty and fittingly brief instrumental “Little Martha”.

A cynic might say that a double album is excessive, especially when over half of the album appears to have been left over from the Fillmore set; however, “One Way Out” was from a show three months later, and Gregg Allman insisted that Eat A Peach was supposed to have more of the live stuff anyway. For the most part, the “new” material is of their standard, and now that it can be had all on one shiny CD makes it economical. (The eventual Deluxe Edition added the entire Fillmore East show that spawned “One Way Out”, which was included again in context.)

The Allman Brothers Band Eat A Peach (1972)—3½
2006 Deluxe Edition: same as 1972, plus 9 extra tracks

Allman Brothers 3: Fillmore East

Labels were a lot more patient with their acts once upon a time. The first two Allman Brothers Band albums hadn’t exactly lit up the charts, but they were a hard-workin’ band, and having built a following at the Fillmore East in New York City, somebody had the bright idea to record their next album there. And they did, and everybody was happy—band, management, consumers, even the roadies on the back cover. At Fillmore East is designed to show the band at their intricate best, leaning on their trademark lengthy jams. That had already been established with the studio LPs, but double live albums threw any rules out the window.

Side one kicks in well with the ancient “Statesboro Blues” (a classic) and brings on their friend Thom Doucette to blow harp on the not-nearly-as-ancient “Done Somebody Wrong”. As they often prefaced their music with a little history, both Bobby “Blue” Bland and T-Bone Walker are acknowledged for giving them “Stormy Monday”, but from the guitar to that Hammond organ, it’s all theirs now. Side two is devoted to “You Don’t Love Me”, taken at such a steady gallop that you wonder how they’ll fill the side. The solution? Duane. He takes advantage of the space provided to go off on his own for a few minutes, and bring the band back behind him. He even throws in a few bars of “Joy To The World”, which is a little odd for March. The side fades just as “Whipping Post” rumbles up, but that will have to wait.

Side three showcases their jazz influences. One might expect something called “Hot ‘Lanta” to be a typical southern rock boogie, and one would be wrong. Rather, it’s a clever setup for the extended take on “In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed”; this one goes for over 12 minutes, and ends up as tight as ever. Finally, side four is all about “Whipping Post”, though apparently not the one started at the end of side two. Wikipedia features a lengthy description of the peaks and valleys here, so we’ll just leave it by saying that it’s fairly phenomenal. If you listen closely at the fade, you’ll hear another tune that will rear its head soon enough.

As live albums go, At Fillmore East is worthy of its heralded status; you just have to be really into guitars to get it. The band would revisit these shows soon enough, which will be explained in this space eventually. Needless to say, its compact disc history has become quite confusing. Its initial double-CD package was redundant once the industry made room for everything on one. In 1992, just in time for the band’s own renaissance as a recording, touring entity, The Fillmore Concerts augmented the original album with previously released performances from these and a later show to fill two discs. The next century brought forth a Deluxe Edition of the original album that resequenced The Fillmore Concerts to approximate the actual setlist and original mixes, but added another song from the later show. Finally, 2014 brought The 1971 Fillmore East Recordings, consisting of all four March shows plus the final June show, which was previously on the Deluxe Edition from their next album, but that’s another story. Therefore, there’s plenty more to love if you love this.

The Allman Brothers Band At Fillmore East (1971)—4
1992 The Fillmore Concerts: same as 1971, plus 5 extra tracks
2003 Deluxe Edition: same as 1992, plus 1 extra track

Eric Clapton 3: Layla

So much has been written over the years about this album that we hesitate to weigh in. Certainly it’s essential for any fans of the electric guitar; even after everything Eric Clapton accomplished in the ‘60s, Layla was still a new height for his development, both professionally and creatively.

It’s understandably considered a Clapton album—released only three months after his solo debut—but we must remember that Derek and the Dominos were, above all, a band. Clapton and keyboard player Bobby Whitlock collaborated early and often on the album, Bobby’s vocals adding a Sam & Dave-style vibe to the album as a whole. Bassist Carl Radle and drummer Jim Gordon were tight, having played with Delaney & Bonnie (where they met Clapton) and Joe Cocker’s Mad Dogs & Englishmen. All four (along with Dave Mason, seemingly incapable of being in any band for more than a few gigs) worked on George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass, and went off to Florida to record. While there, they crossed paths with the Allman Brothers Band, which is how Duane Allman ended up guesting on the album. (That’s also important to mention: he didn’t play on the whole thing, and only played two shows with the Dominos. He was devoted to his own band and remained so.)

“I Looked Away” is a great opener, and a song that doesn’t get enough attention. All of the elements of the band are introduced here, setting a standard for the four sides. Jim Gordon inverts the snare and kick on “Bell Bottom Blues” in a way no one else do, yet makes it work. “Keep On Growing”, just like “Anyday” on side two, builds a good groove over six and a half minutes, working the guitars and organ nicely against each other. Likewise, “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down And Out” and “Key To The Highway” establish themselves as the modern standard by which these blues standards are known today. If there’s a clunker in the first half, it’s “I Am Yours”, which uses a poetic idea from an earlier century but not as well as the title track, and predicts Clapton’s laid-back style of the ‘70s.

The second half of the album is stellar. “Tell The Truth” finds the stank and stays there, giving Duane plenty of room to soar. “Why Does Love Got To Be So Sad?” builds on a hyper-tense rhythm—with excellent fretwork from Carl Radle—eventually settling into a nice groove for the fade. “Have You Ever Loved A Woman” is another cover, but more fitting with Clapton’s overall theme for the album, that being his infatuation with George Harrison’s wife.

Things absolutely take off on side four. Their epic, keening arrangement of “Little Wing” does to Hendrix’s original what he did to “All Along The Watchtower” (and amazingly, they recorded it before he died). The final cover is the much simpler “It’s Too Late”, which gets its point across much faster than the blues workouts of the other sides. It’s merely a sorbet for the unmistakable riff of “Layla”, a song that’s a classic all its own, but is truly made by Jim Gordon’s gorgeous piano theme (which he stole from Rita Coolidge) over the second half of the track. It is truly one of the finer moments in music. And where can you go from there? Bobby’s solo “Thorn Tree In The Garden” has been compared to “Good Night” following “Revolution 9”, but we think it’s more like having to settle for vanilla ice cream because they ran out of chocolate.

There’s a lot of music on Layla, and the great moments still stand out, even after decades of Classic Rock Radio threatening to kill them off. It’s very possible to make a stellar single LP out of the music here, but that would suggest that the lesser tracks are garbage, which they’re not.

Because of the length, it first appeared as a double CD until the industry caught up to capacity capabilities. It was also the recipient of the first box set devoted to a single album; 1990’s The Layla Sessions served up the album on a single disc, plus a disc of jams with and with the Allman Brothers Band, and another disc of alternate takes. That was for the 20th anniversary; the 40th anniversary brought forth a deluxe edition, with other unreleased tracks, plus songs recorded for their stillborn second album, and the so-called “super deluxe” version, which added an expansion of 1973’s In Concert album to all that. These are all for those with unlimited income; everybody else should stick with the original. On vinyl. Or the single CD, ‘cos it’s convenient.

Derek and the Dominos Layla And Other Assorted Love Songs (1970)—4½
1992 The Layla Sessions: 20th Anniversary Edition: same as 1970, plus 15 extra tracks
2011 40th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1970, plus 13 extra tracks (Super Deluxe Edition adds another 13 tracks plus DVD)

Allman Brothers 2: Idlewild South

Arriving less than a year after their LP debut, Idlewild South has some things in common with that album—seven songs four one side, three on the other, just over half an hour long—but it’s hardly a retread. While it does offer another program of blues, other influences creep in, helping to solidify what made the Allman Brothers Band unique, and heads above imitators.

Dickey Betts emerges as a songwriter here, bookending side one with a pair of distinct classics. “Revival” opens with an acoustic strum, switches into a modal riff that builds over other gear changes before settling into the gospel-influenced vocal part—even letting each instrumentalist take a one-bar solo. Compare that to “In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed”, a mesmerizing instrumental loaded with jazz influences, running seven minutes in this version. In between, Gregg Allman offers up the funky “Don’t Keep Me Wonderin’” and “Midnight Rider”, which is either playing on the radio or a television commercial as you read this.

Side two takes a step way back into the blues, with an elaborate arrangement of “Hoochie Coochie Man”, shouted here by bassist Berry Oakley, and likely to give Gregg a rest. He comes back strong with the torchy “Please Call Home”, his piano giving brother Duane plenty of room to wander. “Leave My Blues At Home” is one of their hidden gems, a terrific showcase for the ensemble, driven by a very complicated bass line.

While it does show their growth, Idlewild South doesn’t have the same element of surprise as the first album. That’s not necessarily a criticism; in fact, the two albums were reissued a few years later as a two-record set, called Beginnings. It’s still available as a single CD, and it’s a highly economical option for newcomers, though the debut appeared in a new mix by Tom Dowd.

Some 45 years later, the album was expanded to include three outtakes, and filled the rest of that disc plus another with the complete concert at Cincinnati’s Ludlow Garage from 1970, most of which had appeared as its own release in 1990, both in the wake of their successful Dreams box set as well as to compete with the band’s new album on another label. It’s not as hot as the Fillmore album, but it did include a lengthy “I’m Gonna Move To The Outskirts Of Town”, a 45-minute “Mountain Jam”, and a rare Duane vocal on “Dimples”. Besides sounding marginally better, this upgrade of the show includes a previously unreleased performance of “Elizabeth Reed”. (The Super Deluxe Edition added two more outtakes to the first disc, and put Ludlow Garage on its own two discs.)

The Allman Brothers Band Idlewild South (1970)—3½
2015 45th Anniversary Deluxe Edition: same as 1970, plus 12 extra tracks (Super Deluxe Edition adds another 2 tracks plus Blu-ray)
The Allman Brothers Band Live At Ludlow Garage 1970 (1990)—3½

Allman Brothers 1: The Allman Brothers Band

A common misconception, which we admit to holding for some time, is that the Allman Brothers Band fit into the category of “Southern rock”. The truth is that bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Molly Hatchet, and the Marshall Tucker Band took the basic template of swamp living, dirt roads, and Confederate flags to another level, spawning any number of rednecks equally defensive of the Stars & Stripes as they are the flag atop the General Lee. Somehow, Kid Rock became a beacon of authenticity, turning his failed white rap identity into that of a yokel pimp unable to wash his hair, grow a full beard, or stay away from a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame dinner. But we digress.

While there are a few songs in their catalog that fit easily alongside “Free Bird”, “Can’t You See”, and other pickup truck anthems, the Allman Brothers Band were foremost a blues outfit that used jazz and psychedelia to color and expand the twelve-bar, three-chord format. Their self-titled debut demonstrates this ably on song after song.

The opening blast of “Don’t Want You No More” works as something of an overture, beginning with one door-slamming theme into another groove, and just when you think the vocals might kick in, it slows and shifts into the next track. “It’s Not My Cross To Bear” introduces the growl of Gregg Allman, not yet 22 but already spinning reels of sound from both the Hammond organ and his own throat. (Duane Allman gets most of the accolades for his slide guitar work, but some of the most exciting parts of the album are when he and Dickie Betts combine for harmonic riffs and solos.) “Black Hearted Woman” is another basic blues, except that the intro’s in 7/4 and most of the chords are complicated ninths. The Muddy Waters classic “Trouble No More” gets a definitive reading, with even an acoustic guitar expertly mixed in the sound picture.

“Every Hungry Woman” begins side two with a funky riff, before getting dangerously close to generic blues. Thankfully, it’s also a decent demonstration of the two drummers, and the next two songs lift the band above boring anybody. “Dreams” is a psychedelic shuffle in waltz time, spinning over the simplest ideas like the stream the boys are shown posing nekkid in on the gatefold. But the true climax is “Whipping Post”. Berry Oakley’s bass establishes the riff in 11/8 for the band to follow. The verses follow a standard meter, but it’s the instrumental parts, the real architecture, that make this such a mesmerizing performance that would only grow onstage.

At only 33 minutes, The Allman Brothers Band can seem occasionally slight, but each of the tracks succeeds, as if they’d been playing together for years. The album has a vibrant, live sound that has us thinking that it was recorded that way. We sure hope it was, as that would only add to the mystique.

The Allman Brothers Band The Allman Brothers Band (1969)—4