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Words by Kerry Heffernan :: Images by Robert Chapman
Allman Brothers Band :: 06.21.06 :: Plain Dealer Pavillion :: Cleveland, OH
Derek Trucks & Oteil Burbridge by Robert Chapman |
The Allman Brothers Band are a musical institution. It is personally responsible for contributing to the formation of an entire genre of music - Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inducted two Allman Brothers Band songs, "Ramblin' Man" and "Whipping Post," into the "500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll" list – and yet the band somehow manages to constantly reinvent itself, merging nostalgic classics with ever-evolving new songs and styles. They have overcome the tragic deaths of Berry Oakley and founding member Duane Allman, bared the all-too-present weight of drug abuse and have pushed through the turmoil of the stressed relationships with Dickey Betts and other members of the band. The band has had many musicians rapidly step in to fill the gaps of missing key pieces, only to have those musicians leave just as quickly as they came. There have been shake-ups and shake-downs, tabloid frenzies, loss, pain, joy and success. But through all of the strife, The Allman Brothers Band has relentlessly plugged away at this anomaly that is rock and roll for 37 years, and they have managed to always come out on top.
On June 21, 2006, Cleveland, Ohio and the Plain Dealer Pavilion were fortunate enough to host this timeless musical tradition. With a mix of sky-scrapers, old steel industry warehouses and bridges, the Cuyahoga River, and immense barges periodically passing behind the stage, the backdrop for this phenomenal concert was set.
Derek Trucks by Robert Chapman |
First on the stage was the Derek Trucks Band. As the band opened its set, a slight trickle of concert-goers could be seen filtering in; however, by the time the band kicked into their second song, the trickle turned into a rush. That's one of the great qualities of DTB - their mix of jazz, blues, Latin, Indian, and other world music is entrancing. Their eclectic samplings create a vibrant originality in their songs that no other band can even pretend to mimic. In the soulful "All I Do," lead singer Mike Mattison's sultry vocals soared through the pavilion. The circus-like tent covering the otherwise outdoor arena created a full sound that robustly resonated throughout the site, and it was easy to hear each portion of the six-member band. Feeling like a 70s soul jam that could have easily fit into the repertoire of the Soul Train television program, "For My Brother" showcased Kofi Burbridge's (keyboards, flute, and vocals) impeccable flute work. The sugary notes floated effortlessly up and out of Burbridge's instrument, flowing wildly as the solo reached the peak of its impressive crescendo. Eventually, Burbridge hesitatingly gave way to the lone sound of Trucks' silky guitar, lasting for only a few seconds as the rest of the band steadily rejoined the group, building back into the chorus of the song for a clean, concise finish.
Derek Trucks Band |
Just before the last song of the set, Yonrico Scott (drums, percussion, and vocals) and Count M'Butu (congas and percussion) shared a short drum solo. The deep pulsing of Scott's bass drum, combined with the Count's quick conga beats, produced the tribal sound that is so characteristic of the Derek Trucks Band's music. The jungle vibe jammed and quickly shifted into the last song of the set, the gospel-tinged tune "I Wish I Knew (How It Would Feel to be Free)." The vocal harmonies created by Mattison, Burbridge, Scott, and Todd Smallie (bass and vocals) were appropriately heavenly. Soon, much of the pavilion congregation was on its feet clapping and moving to the divine beat. The song built until the sound flew into the rafters, filling the whole pavilion, before closing with a churchly run up and down Burbridge's keys and a finalizing downbeat. With this outstanding opening act, the crowd had definitely been made ready for the Allman Brothers' performance soon to follow.
As the Allman Brothers Band walked onto the stage, the now packed pavilion rose to its feet, shouting and applauding, waiting in great anticipation of that first chord. "Don't Want You No More" started the evening's revelry as the office lights in the surrounding sky-scrapers began to illuminate the city skyline. The tune moved tirelessly into the second song of the evening, the soulfully gritty, "It's Not My Cross to Bear." As the crowd moved and swayed to the bluesy tune, the weather began to take a very rapid turn for the worse. The setting sun and low-hanging clouds had been replaced with an ominous gray mass moving swiftly towards the pavilion. But the band, and the audience, pushed on. "One Way Out" brought out the vocalists in the crowd as the band paused and the audience sang out in unison, "Talking that stuff that they don't know!" Warren Haynes (slide-guitar and vocals) and Derek Trucks (slide-guitar) showcased their ability to share the spotlight as lead guitarists, smoothly passing the lead line back and forth between them for several minutes, one mimicking the other. The drums and percussion sections shared by Jaimoe Johanson (drums), Butch Trucks (drums), and Marc Quinones (percussion and vocals) also took a brief second to showcase their skills as the song went into a breakdown, giving everyone a chance to groove to the beats.
Gregg Allman by Robert Chapman |
The first sounding of Greg Allman's (vocals, keyboards, guitar) distinctively bluesy voice arrived on "Ain't Wastin' Time no More," and the crowd let out an instant cry of approval. The rough sound of Allman's vocals blended coarsely, albeit appropriately, with Derek's smooth guitar. With Derek playing, the song took on a delightfully light quality. His transitions were easy and fluid, even when moving from one end of his fret board to the other. There were no breaks or scratches; there was no irregularity in the notes. Then suddenly, without warning, Haynes took over the lead role, and a sharp contrast was instantly made. Where Allman's edgy voice and Derek's sinewy guitar created a dichotomy, Haynes' harsh playing blended right in with Allman's weathered vocals and pounding organ riffs. The song took on an empowering tone that swallowed the crowd whole before coming to a collective ending.
As the concert continued on, the weather grew worse. Lightning flashed violently across the sky, thunder boomed loudly overhead, and the rain began to pour torrentially down from the heavens. With each lightning strike and thunder clap the crowd grew more frenzied, shouting at Mother Nature's fury.
As the rain poured down, ABB slipped coolly into Stevie Ray Vaughn's "The Sky is Crying." With the first words of the song - the same as the title - the crowd's energy, which had been persistently growing, just exploded. The slow, emotionally-charged, crying notes of the song created a strong sense of tension. ABB played the song rougher than I had ever heard, and the timing could not have been better. Just as this tension seemed to take complete control of the situation, Oteil Burbridge's bass and Quinones' congas emerged from the muck and the mire. They ushered the song into a swingy jazz beat that was a complete turn around from the bleeding sounds of the blues. Slowly, cautiously, the rest of the band began entering this new realm of music. A 50s feel all the way, "Instrumental Illness" began to take hold. Haynes snapped his finger to the beat while the rest of the band found its new footing, and he was the last one to join the group. The breezy feel of the song lightened the mood of the venue, even though the rain kept on pounding the pavilion's roof.
Warren Haynes by Robert Chapman |
The tension and release that had just occurred signaled to most that set break was near. However, just as it seemed that the Brothers would be taking off their instruments and walking off stage, the band loudly broke into the crowd-pleasing "Midnight Rider." The classic hit never fails to get the crowd's attention, and after some of the rarities that had been previously played, and of course the stress that was caused by the weather, it was nice to be pulled back into a familiar comfort zone. At the song's conclusion, it seemed, once again, that this junction would prove as the perfect spot for a set break. But the band played on, producing a unique cover of The Band's "The Weight." Haynes' vocals explored a lower key of the song, performing the distinctive multiple-voice chorus on his own, adding to the uniqueness of the interpretation. But the song eventually came back around to a closer rendition of the original when the chords shifted into a higher octave.
Oteil Burbridge by Robert Chapman |
A 26-minute long "Mountain Jam" rounded out what would turn out to be the first and only set of the evening – besides the encore. The song, as always, started out so sweet, like birds chirping on a cool spring morning. But the tune quickly moved into a world of the weird. Though the weather had died down a bit earlier, it picked right back up as if on cue during the spacey open explorations of the jam. The band delved moderately into the chaos, creating dissonance and clamor where harmonies and scales once resided. The beauty of the jam is succumbing to that world, being taken into the strange orifices that the band creates, feeling like it will never ever end and then thankfully rising out of the darkness back into the light. In this case, the light came in the form of a modest drum/percussion solo as the rest of the band calmly left the stage. As always, the two blended skillfully together, but there was nothing in this solo that really got the crowd moving, nothing that got them pumped. The beats were relaxed and soon gave way to a sound that was romantic and moving. Burbridge, dressed in a striking resemblance to Jimi Hendrix, had entered the side stage and was playing a beautiful melody on his bass. The song was enchanting - a bit eerie - and the drums' earlier calm and collected stance afforded the perfect opportunity for such a willowy melody to exist. One melded right into the other. Burbridge continued on his tuneful path for several minutes until the rest of the band members coolly made their way back onto the stage - Derek playing first, then the drums and percussion, followed by Haynes, and finally concluding with Allman. The softness that had been created by the drum solo and developed by Burbridge was completed by the whole band. As the romanticism faded away, "Mountain Jam" made a slow transition back to reality. When the song confidently returned, it carried a slightly swingy bounce to its step. The song built to a great show-stopping climax, and the first set ended on a high note.
Warren Haynes & Derek Trucks by Robert Chapman |
When the band left the stage, the crowd immediately began stomping on the benches of the pavilion. Some were chanting, "Allmans, Allmans!" Others whistled, some clapped, and some only stomped, but the sound in the pavilion was unmatched. It was LOUD, and the Allman Brothers Band didn't spend much time backstage. "No One to Run With" was the closing song of the evening, and the beachy tone was slightly reminiscent of James Crawford's, "Iko, Iko." With the lightning picking up once again, the band fell into an energy-filled instrumental with everyone playing on the same beats and patterns until Haynes pulled away from the group. With the rest of the band following his lead, Haynes moved the end of his guitar into the air, paused at the top, and confidently brought the end back toward the stage. The build-up came to a collective ending right as a final bolt of lightning struck, and it was blindingly clear to all that the Allman Brothers had definitely taken Cleveland by storm.
JamBase | Cleveland
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