The Allman Brothers Shades of Two Worlds (1991)

From ultimateclassicrock.com

The Allman Brothers Band had reestablished themselves after launching a third era with 1990’s well-received Seven Turns, but something was still missing. Well, actually, something had to go.

They discovered this after parting ways with piano player Johnny Neel, a more recent recruit. Subsequent touring dates in Japan featured the same six-member format as the Allman Brothers Band’s initial 1969-76 tenure, and a similar feeling returned.

“There was just so much freedom, so much space,” cofounder Butch Trucks told the Los Angeles Times in 1991. “For the first time since Duane [Allman] and Berry [Oakley both] died, there was a group of guys all going in the same direction, all feeling the same type of music and energy. It really [had been] a problem since that long ago.”

Trucks and fellow surviving original members Gregg Allman, Dickey Betts and Jai Johanny Johanson rushed into the studio with modern-era additions Warren Haynes and Allen Woody. Shades of Two Worlds, released on July 2, 1991, perfectly captured this exciting throwback sound.

On Seven Turns, “we just weren’t familiar enough with each other yet to take the kinds of chances we do on this record,” Trucks added. “We had another year to get to know each other.”

For their part, Haynes and Woody knew how high the standards were. “It was a hot damn seat, pal,” Woody told the Chicago Tribune in 1991. “Warren and I talk about this all the time, because he came into Duane’s slot and I’m walking in behind Berry Oakley and Lamar Williams. We knew we were gonna be compared to our predecessors, but we couldn’t be daunted by that.”

Rooting themselves in tradition also set this lineup apart from the band’s doomed second edition, which saw what became a more pop-leaning 1978 comeback bid fizzle a couple of years later. Shades of Two Worlds would instead hearken back to the lengthy improvisational excursions found on 1971’s At Fillmore East, the last complete recording featuring Duane Allman.

“That was [in] our discussions before anything was written,” Trucks told the Times. “Go back to play the way the Allman Brothers play. Write songs that are like what we do on stage, like ‘Whipping Post’ and ‘Elizabeth Reed’ – the songs we love to play onstage year after year.”

Betts’ “Nobody Knows” clocked in at a robust 11 minutes; the Charlie Parker-inspired “Kind of Bird,” which he cowrote with Haynes, stretched to nearly 8:30. Gregg Allman opened the album with “End of the Line,” an emotional look back at the troubles they’d seen. (“At times my luck was so bad,” he sighs, “I had to fold my hands.”) Then Allman went deep down in the blues on “Get On With Your Life.”

Of course, they risked repeating themselves. “Nobody Knows,” for instance, bears an uncomfortable resemblance to “Whipping Post,” right down the time signature. But Betts – who wrote or cowrote five songs on Shades of Two Worlds, while also arranging the album-closing cover of Robert Johnson’s “Come On in My Kitchen” – brushed off such criticism. After all, it had come from a very honest place. That, too, was like the old days.

“‘Nobody Knows’ is one of the best lyrical songs I’ve ever written,” Betts later told Guitar World. “These are nice, abstract, poetic lyrics. I wrote that about as fast as I could write the words down, at 4:30 in the morning after rehearsal.”

Its similarity to a certain legendary Allman Brothers Band song was actually no accident: Returning classic-era producer “Tom Dowd had said, ‘We could use a tune as heavy as ‘Whipping Post’ for this record,'” Betts added, “and I thought, ‘Man, that’s a tall order!’ I sat down and those words just started flying out. In 30 minutes I’d written the whole thing – like I was writing a letter to someone.”

Haynes tended to inject new life in everything around him – notably on the Betts cowritten protest song “Desert Blues” which provided timely commentary on the Persian Gulf War. Still, arriving so far removed from their jam-band heyday, the No. 85-finishing Shades of Both Worlds didn’t exactly fly off store shelves. The specter of another breakup also remained, to the point that worried new label bosses insisted the Allman Brothers Band enter the studio before their first reunion tour. They were concerned that the group wouldn’t survive a lengthy road trip.

Trucks again took the long view. “It’s gonna last as long as it’s working. It could be a week, it could be 10 years,” the late drummer said in 1991. “We’re making plans a year ahead, with no end in sight. But in this kind of business, you never know what’s going to happen. The bus might flip over tonight.”

Metaphorically speaking, it soon did. Haynes and Woody left after one more album to focus on the Allmans-offshoot band Gov’t Mule; the subsequent Where It All Begins also marked the group’s final studio project with the fiery Betts. Haynes ultimately returned to the Allman Brothers Band, but by then Woody had overdosed on heroin.

“Kind of Bird” would become perhaps the last song performed by Woody, who took part in an acoustic version with Gov’t Mule in an Omaha, Neb., television studio just days before he died.

The Allman Brothers Eat A Peach (1972)

From rollingstone.com April 1972

Sometimes it all seems to come down to the question of survival — and learning to live with loss. Rock and blues have lost a lot of people in the past five years, but the death of an artist always diminishes the music more than the death of a “star” — and Duane Allman was an artist. He lived for and in music, loving it with the kind of possessed passion that sometimes leads people to believe that bluesmen have traded their souls to the Devil for the magic of their music.

When Duane was killed in a motorcycle accident last fall, the other five group members went off in separate directions for a few weeks — but they soon found themselves calling each other up, wanting to get together and jam. Most voids ache to be filled, and music can fill many because it can contain so much; sorrow, celebration, anger, love — and always the joy of just plain getting it on. So soon the five-man Allman Brothers began to play again — what else could they do?

One of their first gigs after the tragedy was Thanksgiving night at Carnegie Hall. The trademark dual guitar harmonies and inter-play were missing — but the band still boogied hard, strong and soaring. It was as if each of the five had expanded some to fill the empty space, and a different kind of internal structure started to grow. Dicky Betts guitar smoked for sure, prodded by Berry Oakley’s driving bass it drove into new regions. Since then the band has grown even tighter. “The brother spirit is there,” Berry says. “And the bond is really strong.” Work had begun on their fourth album, and three tracks were completed with Duane before the accident. According to Dicky, the original idea was an album with a “light, airy, free kind of feel” to go along with the title, Eat a Peach (Capricorn ZCP 0102). The music on this double album is drawn from three different sources; live tracks from Fillmore East (most cut at the same gig that resulted in the earlier live album), studio sessions done with Duane last fall, and one whole side from the “new” band, recorded in mid-January.

Chronologically, the album really begins with Side Two, “Mountain Jam.” (You can hear its opening notes on the fadeout of “Whipping Post,” the last track on the last side of Live at Fillmore East.) The instrumental jam is based on Donovan’s “First There Is A Mountain,” but soon leaves it to stretch off into more expansively soaring riffs — always anchored in solid rock, but also swirling smooth in clouds of jazz-like improvisation. Everybody gets some good rides flowing, taking themes and circling them from inside out; Dicky Betts walks some jagged edges while Berry cooks and bubbles below, joined by Duane who puts an encouraging aura around Dicky’s urgency. And typically, the whole band merges into one organism, one master musician with 30 fingers and six instruments to play on. The side ends with a pulsing drum riff by drummers Butch Trucks and Jai Johann Johanson followed by the beginnings of a bass solo. Side four is the second part of the jam (it runs 35 minutes) — the ending of the drum riff is overlapped on the two sides so there is no sense of loss at the transition. Berry struts in hard at first, then begins to interweave rhythmic intricacies with the groundwork laid by the drummers. Duane and Dicky join in lacing guitar lead lines like electric snakes — and Duane takes off on a truly possessed solo, walking that knife-edge between mellow and madness — the old devil/saint demon that exists in every artist pouring out through his fingers. The tension/struggle is resolved as the music melts to a riff on “Will The Circle Be Unbroken” which builds with what can only be called grandeur, into a rising affirmation. Finally, back again to the “Mountain” theme, lilting and climbing home with ending chords that wash over you like ocean-spray at sunrise. The set closes with Duane calling off the band members names and saying “thank you” — I can see him loping off, and it feels as if he has just walked off his last stage, forever.

If you flip the record stack over, on side three you’ll find the band back at the Fillmore, rocking on Sonny Boy Williamson’s “One Way Out.” Duane plays harp-like lines during Gregg’s vocals, then follows a smoking solo of Dicky’s with some stinging slide guitar — they trade off short riffs that flat burn. Muddy Water’s “Trouble No More” is next, with Duane on slide again — like the version on their first LP the groove funky, but lined with velvet.

“Stand Back” (by Gregg) is the first of the three studio tracks with Duane. The bar-room riff jumps right along as the lyrics lay down a tale of a lost but not too lamented love. “If I ever see that woman walking down the street, I’ll just stand back — and try to move away slowly,” Gregg sings with finality. Once again, Duane is on slide.

“Blue Sky,” written and sung by Dicky Betts is for his woman, and though filled with “running rivers” and “sunny skies,” has a pure and natural freshness that ten thousand folked-up troubadours will never reach — no matter how much straw they got in their boots. The guitar interplay between Duane and Dicky has a country cleanness, but stays solidly in the throbbing Allman groove — can you dig country/blues in a new kind of marriage? (Two of Dicky’s favorite musicians are Robert Johnson and Jimmie the singing brakeman Rogers.) On first hearing, this is the track many people flash on.

The last cut with Duane, “Little Martha,” is the only tune he gets sole writing credit for on any Allman Brothers albums. It’s an evocative, airy and rippling acoustic guitar duet with Dicky, and gives a glimpse of a side of Duane rarely seen on stage. (“Duane and I always talked about doing part of the set acoustic,” Dicky says. “But somehow we just never got around to it …”) Though Duane could get on a stage and burn holes in the sky with his electric fire, he was also capable of mellowing out any cricket-ridden nightwatch with this kind of back porch sound.

Side one, the last one chronologically, opens with “Ain’t Wasting Time No More,” the first track by the “new” band. Gregg’s lyrics and voice paint a picture of opposing sadness and defiance. “I ain’t wasting time no more — Time goes by like falling rain, and much faster than …” is the chorus, and one verse neatly sums up the survival hassle; “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 then you don’t — But leave your mind alone and just get high.” The cut ends with the wistful and melancholy lines, “Time rolls by like hurricanes…. and don’t forget the pour-our-ouring rain.” Dicky double tracks slide and lead guitars here, and though it wasn’t intentional, Duane’s feel is strong in his solo. “His spirit was there,” Berry says. Though a bit more introspective than most of their tunes, this track grows on you, rather than off you.

“Les Brers In A Minor” (by Dicky) is a nine minute instrumental masterpiece. It’s a highly cinematic sounding, almost symphonically majestic construction. which also boogies like a mother-fucker. It begins with two long and rising “suspensions” of swirling sound which make for a lot of mind movies (the “monkey skulls” make the woodblock-like sounds, by the way) — and the credits start to roll as bass and congas begin a popping riff, joined by a guitar line that is maddeningly familiar. (Dicky says it’s one of those lines that just came “out of the air,” but those who’ve heard it say it reminds them of something Greek, or Israeli, or “Midnight In Moscow,” or what-the-hell-was that? Send cards, it’s freaking me.) A soaring, nearly two-octave ascending scale explodes the song — it starts to drive with the same kind of midnight highway-riding power riffs that characterized “In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed” on the second album. Dicky slashes through some absolutely incendiary rides, then returns to the theme, which finally concludes with rolling chord-crashes. as “Fin” flashes across the mutual foreheads of everybody digging it. This track just destroys all the lame and pretentious classic-rock mixes that other groups have tried — and I suspect that that thought never crossed the Allman’s minds.

The concluding track, “Melissa,” is a ballad, strong on acoustic guitar. Gregg’s vocal is restrained, and the lyrics are an almost classic autobiography of any musician on the road; “The gypsy flies from coast to coast/Knowing many, loving none — bearing sorrow, having fun/But back home he’ll always run — to sweet Melissa.” And the truth that every rock and roll gypsy, strangely anonymous in his fame knows; “Freight train, each car looks the same/All the same, no one knows the gypsy’s name No one here has gone beside, there are no blankets where he lies Knowing people’s dreams, the gypsy flies — with sweet Melissa.” So going back home, knowing that love is all that makes it real.

No, the group is not the same without Duane (just as Duane was freed to soar by the group’s solid support, so they leaned into his fire) — but it’s still the Allman Brothers. It’s not a question of being “as good” or “not as good” — rather it’s just a difference, an expansion in several directions, still too early to name.

While Duane was with them, listening to the group was like getting laid by someone who loved you and knew how to love — not only getting you off, but getting you on as well. The new five-man group is like a new lover, with different passions, peaks and skills — and touches that may take a little getting used to at first, but satisfying just as surely.

The Allman Brothers are still the best goddamned band in the land, and this record with three sides of “old” and one side of “new” is a simultaneous sorrowed ending and hopeful beginning. I hope the band keeps playing forever — how many groups can you think of who really make you believe they’re playing for the joy of it?

The Allman Brothers: The Colossal Mess Of “The Allman Brothers Band At Fillmore East” (1971)

From allaboutjazz.com

While the recent release of Eat a Peach, Deluxe Edition is a most welcome addition to the Allman Brothers Band discography, it incandescently illuminates the pornographically haphazard release history of this important material. The original two-LP release was largely culled from a series of four shows performed on March 12 and 13, 1971 at New York City’s Fillmore East Auditorium. Since that time At Fillmore East has seen multiple releases on compact disc, each with differing levels of sonic cleansing and digital alchemy.

While a superior musical document in itself, At Fillmore East existed as a robust torso, not fully complete and, ultimately realized. Retrospectively, several songs recorded from the March 1971 Fillmore concerts not included on At Fillmore East are found strewn across Eat A Peach (“Trouble No More” and “Mountain Jam”), Duane Allman: An Anthology (“Don’t Keep Me Wondering”), Duane Allman: An Anthology, Volume 2 (“Midnight Rider”), and The Allman Brothers Band: Dreams (“Drunken-Hearted Boy”). “One Way Out” which appeared first on Eat a Peach was the only song not actually recorded March 1971. It was recorded on June 27, 1971 at the final Fillmore concert before the hall closed. “One Way Out” had been performed during the March shows, but producer Tom Dowd felt that the June performance was definitive. Prior to the release of The Fillmore Concerts in 1992, this discography accounted for all of the music in release from the famous March 1971 shows.

The Fillmore Concerts (1992) contained the first unreleased material from the Allman’s famous stand at the Fillmore. Perhaps the greatest difference between At Fillmore East and The Fillmore Concerts outside of the additional material added is the digital editing on “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” and “You Don’t Love Me,” combining the superior pieces of the multiple takes of each performed during the four shows. Needless to say, this was controversial. This bit of Tom Dowd wizardry also magnifies an additional issue to be considered: the amount of material drawn upon for the extant releases.

History documents that two shows each were performed on not only Friday, March 12th and Saturday, March 13th, the dates from which the bulk of the material was drawn but also Thursday, March 11th. If we consider the 13 songs making up At Fillmore East Deluxe Edition (the most complete document yet released) as an typical performance during this period, then there exists ostensibly 52 tracks of performances for March 12th and 13th, and 78 tracks if the March 11th shows are included. Tom Dowd would have undoubtedly recorded all of this material for the live album release, not to mention the entire show performed on June 27, 1971 that captured the released “One Way Out from the closing of the Fillmore East. This suggests a huge amount of unreleased material from a historically important period in American musical history.

The release of Eat a Peach, Deluxe Edition indeed provides some of this unreleased material. However, all of this newly released material is oddly derived from the June 27, 1971 closing show, making the entire At The Fillmore picture frustrating. In light of the 2005 release of Joe Cocker Mad Dogs and Englishmen The Complete Fillmore East Concerts documenting all of Joe Cocker’s four Fillmore East shows from Friday, March 27th and Saturday, March 28th, 1970, an equally valuable and important series of concerts, one must believe the Allman Brother’s handlers at Universal Music Group could provide the public a similar, all-inclusive product.

Certainly by 1970s standards this material should have been edited and only the best material (as deemed at the time) released. For example, the Allman Brothers Band Website, in that site’s Set List section notes that on Thursday, March 11, the Allman Brothers used a horn section in the show. Legend has it that Tom Dowd played the tapes back for the band and they were so bad that Dowd and the band felt none of the material should be released. This anecdotal story is supported in Randy Poe’s recently published Skydog: The Duane Allman Story (Backbeat Books, 2006) while being completely ignored (as was the entire Thursday, March 11, 1971 show) in Scott Freeman’s Midnight Riders: The Story of the Allman Brothers Band (Little, Brown & Co., 1995). AT the very least a mixed picture emerges as to which material was archived and which was not. It would be historically interesting at the very least to hear these tapes.

However, these performances are historical documents. At Fillmore East is considered by this and other writers as one of the greatest, if not the greatest Rock Live recording ever made. In listening to the previously unreleased material included on Eat a Peach, Deluxe Edition, it becomes abundantly clear that all of this music is worthy of hearing and documenting, regardless of previous production prejudice. Universal, do the right thing and release all of the available tapes of these shows.

The Allman Brothers – Hittin’ The Note (2003) – How the Allman Brothers Band Roared Back on ‘Hittin’ the Note’

From ultimateclassicrock.com

The Allman Brothers Band’s 24th album was at once like and unlike anything they had ever done before. While attempting to make their first music without Dickey Betts, they rediscovered something that used to fire the group’s earliest successes: Creating together, in a room.

Hittin’ the Note arrived on March 18, 2003, as an unlikely return to form, giving the refocused Allman Brothers Band their first Top 40 release since 1980’s Reach for the Sky. Gregg Allman struggled to fully explain this sudden bounce-back performance, though he seemed to intimate that Betts’ ugly exit had ultimately been a case of addition by subtraction.

“Probably because the vibes were so very good on this record,” Allman told the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette in 2003. “We were finally into it. And I guess we have had a personnel change lately and that was a major reason.”

Once again, they’d come up against their own legend after the departure of a key member. And as before – beginning with Duane Allman’s death, and then Berry Oakley’s – the Allman Brothers Band somehow summoned the strength to carry on, and then to evolve into something new. Derek Trucks, nephew of co-founding drummer Butch Trucks and a member of the Allmans since 1999, described it as a nothing less than a creative rebirth.

“I definitely think the split they had between the band and Dickey was a big part of it,” Trucks told the Oklahoman in 2004. “When you’re in a band, it’s like being married to five or six people. Sometimes, there’s people you’re not supposed to be with. It’s unhealthy for both parties.”

Warren Haynes, then in his second stint after an earlier tenure from 1989–1997, co-produced Hittin’ the Note. More than that, he helped Gregg Allman rediscover his muse, beginning with their co-written blues “Desdemona.”

“I was pretty much in a slump, but this thing with Warren woke my writing back up,” Allman told the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review in 2003. “I’m not back to where I was. I don’t think I’ll ever be. I’m pretty thankful for the stuff I’ve already written. But Warren and I have the exact same taste in music. When I’d get hung up on something, he’d come in and finish it off.”

They mimicked those face-to-face writing sessions, held over a week’s time at Allman’s home in Savannah, Ga., when it was time to record Hittin’ the Note. Songs were demoed in a tight circle; they’d do several takes and then move on to the next one.

“We were set up in a big room, and we recorded live with the exception of a couple of overdubbed slide solos,” Haynes told Guitar Player in 2003. “The mics were placed fairly close to the speakers, which gave us the best of both worlds – the ambience of the room, and a close sound with a little more bottom end.”

It took just 10 days in December 2001, with a few overdubs the following April, to finish one of the most complete late-period Allman Brothers Band records. “The band was in a really good head space,” Haynes told the Tribune-Review. “Everybody was in a really good place, and you can feel it in the music.”

Haynes (a gritty, stilettoed presence) and Trucks (always so jazz-flecked and warm) updated the band’s classic twin-guitar sound, while the group also smartly recalled former glories: “High Cost of Low Living” quotes Allman Brothers classics like “Blue Sky” and “Dreams,” while “Instrumental Illness” echoed their epic legacy improvisations.

“It was amazing, I’ll tell you,” Allman said of “Instrumental Illness,” which earned a pair of Grammy award nominations. “We had a lot of fun doing it, too. And that, my friend, is the way it’s supposed to be. You should love the work you do.”

Allman brilliantly tangled with the guitarists on “Woman Across the River,” while bassist Oteil Burbridge brought a fiery new propulsion in place of the late Allen Woody. Allman took a long look back on “Old Before My Time,” one of five songs he co-wrote with Haynes for Hittin’ the Note – including the single “Firing Line,” which reached the Top 40 on the Billboard mainstream rock charts. Feeling their oats, the Allman Brothers Band added in a cover of “Heart of Stone” by the Rolling Stones.

Gregg Allman said he could tell right away they’d created a rare thing. “There isn’t a clunker on the set,” he told Relix in 2003. “In the past, our records always had that one track – the one where you just shake your head.”

Even the album name spoke to both their visceral new camaraderie and to the Allman Brothers Band’s treasured history. “It was an expression of Berry Oakley’s that means in the pocket, on top of it: Everybody’s biorhythms are perfect. Everybody’s hitting the note at the same time,” Allman told Relix. “When you went and saw a band and you came back, the rest of the guys would ask if everybody was hitting the note.”

They closed out the album with a song that pointed definitively to what looked like a very bright future: “Old Friend,” an oaken, stripped-down duet between Haynes and Trucks, became the only Allman Brothers Band song that didn’t feature an original member.

“We placed one mic on each guitar, and the two contrasting and complementary sounds are gorgeous – it almost sounds like one big 12-string,” Haynes told Guitar Player. “We also put two pieces of plywood across the floor, which made the guitars sound better. We actually miked the plywood, too, so you can hear not only the resonance of the guitars bouncing off the wood, but also my foot stomping throughout the whole thing.”

Unfortunately, despite all of the promise that Hittin’ the Note seemed to possess, the Allman Brothers Band never recorded another studio album. Derek Trucks called it his biggest regret.

“Hittin’ the Note was good, but there was a better record in there,” Trucks told Rolling Stone in 2015. “Having a studio in my backyard where we could have easily recorded the band — between me and Warren, we would have crushed an Allman Brothers record … and it never came to pass.”

Allman Brothers: At Fillmore East (1971)

From allaboutjazz.com

The Blues is atomic music in the respect that as a part of American Popular Music it is an indivisible element, one that cannot be deconstructed. The Blues is a part of every genre of popular music: Rock, R&B, Jazz, Country, Bluegrass, and Rap. How did the blues insinuate itself into every popular form of American Music? By being pulled through and interpreted by the experiential filter of those musicians talented enough to understand and perform it.

After the birth of the blues in the Mississippi Delta, it journeyed up Highway 61 to Chicago during the great migration of southern African Americans of the 1940s and became electrified. After further development in Chicago, the Blues hopped a cargo plane for Europe where it incubated with British working class youth. When it returned to the United States, the blues took the form of The Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Animals, John Mayall and the Blues Breakers, and Led Zeppelin, (after whom rock music was never the same). Upon arriving back in the United States, the music returned to the South and showed up in Macon Georgia at the home of Duane and Gregg Allman. The Allmans grew up in a culturally and musically rich period and region. While Gregg excelled on the guitar and keyboards and developed a distinctive, readily identifiable vocal style, it was Duane who was to be the true innovator. Duane Allman was to become the premier slide guitarist in the same way that Jimi Hendrix had become the premier electric guitarist before their early deaths.

After the demise of the brothers’ fledgling bands The Second Coming and Hourglass, Duane and Gregg Allman formed their now famous self-titled band. In March and June of 1971, the Allman Brother Band performed at the fabled Fillmore East auditorium in New York City, recording the concerts. The announcer’s, “Okay, The Allman Brothers Band…” followed by three hi-hat claps introduce the brother’s masterpiece, perhaps the most coherent and perfectly integrated rock/blues performance on record.

The original release was taken from a March 12 and 13, 1971 series of shows under the title, The Allman Brothers Band at Fillmore East. This recording was originally released on vinyl and has seen at multiple releases on compact disc with various stages of sonic cleansing. While a great musical document, The Allman Brothers Band at Fillmore East remains a robust torso, not fully complete. Songs from the Fillmore concerts not included on The Allman Brothers Band at Fillmore East are found strewn across Eat A Peach (“Trouble No More,” “One Way Out” and “Mountain Jam”), Duane Allman: An Anthology (“Don’t Keep Me Wondering”) and The Allman Brothers Band: Dreams (“Drunken-Hearted Boy”).

It was not until the release of The Allman Brothers Band: The Fillmore Concerts that all of the Fillmore performances were collected in one release. “One Way Out” was the only song not actually recorded on March 12^th or 13^th. It was recorded on June 27, 1971 at the last Fillmore concert before the hall closed. “One Way Out” had been performed during the March shows, but producer Tom Dowd felt that the June performance was the definitive one. This re-collection of all of the songs from the Fillmore shows is the first reason I chose to include The Allman Brothers Band: The Fillmore Concerts rather than the original The Allman Brothers Band at Fillmore East. A second reason was that this re-collection conveniently brought together the songs that completely define the Allman Brothers Band sound and illustrate the effect of that sound on the Blues and its offshoot, Southern Rock.

From the opening bars of Willie McTell’s “Statesboro Blues,” The Allman Brothers Band: The Fillmore Concerts is an electric blues/rock exhibition. The survey includes Texas Blues (“Stormy Monday”), Chicago Blues (“Trouble No More”), and Mississippi Delta Blues (“Done Somebody Wrong”). In addition to cover material, the Allmans include the originals “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed” and their definitive blues statement, “Whipping Post.” These songs are propelled by a dual lead guitar and drums format and the fat sound of a Hammond B3 organ. The effect is one of a “Wall of Sound.” It is a sound that is immediately identifiable with the Allman Brothers Band.

The true brilliance of this live recording is in the shorter pieces. The longer pieces (“Whipping Post,” “You Don’t Love Me,” and “Mountain Jam”) have their moments, but those moments are diluted in the self-indulgent noodling typical of many 1970’s live performances. If The Allman Brothers Band: The Fillmore Concerts contained only “Statesboro Blues,” “Stormy Monday” and “One Way Out,” it would still have a place as one of the finest live recordings ever released.

“Statesboro Blues” and “One Way Out” have Duane Allman’s dense and precise slide guitar pitted against Richard Betts’ round lead guitar, with “One Way Out” providing Betts with his finest recorded guitar solo. “Stormy Monday” juxtaposes Allman and Bett’s distinct lead styles in an orgy of perfect blues phrasing. Gregg Allman’s jazzy organ interlude is an added delight.

“Statesboro Blues” is the only song of the three mentioned that has been released in other recorded versions. A studio version recorded at the Capricorn studios in February of 1970. This is the earliest released performance and shows the band competent in their performance with elements of Duane’s accompaniment and solo slide guitar playing in the Fillmore Concerts version already being formed, but having reedy sonics and a slightly dragging tempo. The middle performance comes from The Allman Brothers Band Live at Ludlow Garage 1970. Recorded April 11^th, this is the longest of the three versions, clocking in at 8:09. It is a loose, sure performance, more full-bodied than the studio version. Gregg Allman’s goes off mike several times and Duane’s slide vision is still not fully realized revealing why this had not been released earlier. The song has the surprise for those used to the Fillmore version in that just when you think the song is over, it cranks up for five more minutes of Duane’s slashing but accurate slide guitar. There is a definite evolution between the studio version and the Fillmore version. Listening to all three one after another is like using a fine tuning knob to achieve the perfect performance, which the Fillmore “Statesboro” is. It would be interesting to hear alternate versions of “One Way Out.” But, then again, maybe not. What occurs on the Fillmore recording is already perfection as the entire set, even in its less than perfect moments.

The Allman Brothers At Fillmore East (1971)

From sputnikmusic.com

There is just something about the Fillmore that makes a band shine beyond anything they could’ve done in just normal venues. This is quite notable with a wide variety of bands. This is without a doubt the best material the ABB have ever released. Just by listening to a few of the songs on Live at the Fillmore you can tell where they really shined. They even have said themselff that they had gotten frustrated doing the studio albums.

Going into the concert they had an idea of what they had wanted to achieve. No real setup just a bunch of guys just jamming doing what they had always done best. Quite a few of the songs on the album they had never even recorded previous to the concert. And a lot of them had been covers of old blues songs that they had loved for years.

The band itself were simply put superstars at what they did. Containing arguably the tightest rhythm section in rock. One thing is for sure Butch Trucks and Berry Oakley sure could hold the band together. The two guitarists were for sure some of the best. While they each had their part. Duane was the slide man, and he stills stands the best after all these years. Dickey took care of the great leads that you often hear in the ABB. Gregg Allman’s voice fits perfectly with the band. And it would certainly not be the same with anyone else.

Now onto the songs:
1. Statesboro Blues – This is originally a William McTell song. It is one of the many songs the ABB covered at the Fillmore. As they introduce the Allman Brothers Band. The song starts off with just plain great slide playing by Duane. And this continues throughout out the whole song. Gregg’s soothing voice comes in and goes great with the song. This song is probably up there as Duane’s best guitar work which is saying quite a lot. The rhythm section is so tight on this song it is almost scary. Easily a standout.
5/5

2. Done Somebody Wrong- On the next song they cover an older Elmore James song. As Gregg says before the song starts its a true story just like a lot of old blue songs. Starts off with a really catchy slide lick and starts going from there. There is a few fabulous solos played by both Duane and Dickey which really stand out and make the song shine. After hearing both the original and their version, I must say that this version is so a lot better. Great song
4.7/5

3. Stormy Monday- This song was originally done by T-Bone Walker. This is a slower placed song compared to the last few. It has a fabulous solo that fits in so perfect with the song its amazing. They put so much emotion into this solo and in general, the song. And then there is an organ solo which you probably wouldn’t be the first thing you would think of hearing in an ABB song. But surprisingly it fits in quite nicely with the song. Followed by another guitar solo to end the song.
4.3/5

4. You Don’t Love Me- This was originally performed and written by Willie Cobbs. This one of the long jams in the album. Which is fitting considering that they are a jam band. In the beginning of the song the band gets the crowd going early. Along with quite a stunning guitar riff. Also you can hear in the background,the organ going along with the guitar. Followed by quite an amazing solo, more fast and ferocious than the others solos on the album but still as good if not better. And here comes the organ solo which was heard throughout the whole song so it is no surprise to hear it again. And might i say it sounds great in the song. There is a point in the song where it all stops for just Duane to play. This is where he shines in the song, without a doubt the best part in the song. Then, the pace of the song changes and it almost seems like a different song. But no, its just a little change. Fabulous Fabulous Song
5/5

5. Hot ‘Lanta- This is actually a true original by the ABB. It is an instrumental where all members of the band get to show off their skills. Each have their time in the song to shine and be heard. I think it is an alright song but it just doesn’t really compare to other songs on the album. It just seems to lack that true ABB sound.
3.3/5

6. In Memory of Elizabeth Reed- Another original this time a more popular one that is probably familiar to you. Has a more jazzy feel than quite a few of their others songs. The guitar work in this song is amazing because it strays away from the style(s) that the guitarists usually do. About halfway through the song there is a great organ solo. I would say it is the best organ solo on the whole album. And there are a lot of great ones on here so that is saying alot. Fantastic Song.
5/5

7. Whipping Post- If you have heard one Allman Brothers Band songs without actually knowing it. It should be familiar to most people. It is a very recognizable riff. And this is probably one of the best versions to be heard of it. This version is high on improvisation and it is just amazing how they can string out a 4 minute song to become a 20 minute song and still have you interested every second of the song.
5/5

Overall
This is and probably always will be one of my favourite albums of all time. I would recommend this to everyone but especially to people that like classic rock, jam bands , and southern rock. But just give it a chance if you like any style of rock.