Midnight Rider

Is it forever?

You've got to know the first Allman Brothers album was a stiff. Most people were completely unaware of it, but some purchased it after the band blew up as one half of "Beginnings," which packaged the first two records together. But that first album is a monster, it's got the original version of "Whipping Post," albeit "only" five minutes and seventeen seconds long. And it also has the original "Dreams," ultimately made famous by Molly Hatchet, and a blistering version of "Trouble No More."

But most people only became aware of the Allman Brothers via "Fillmore East."

But the band started to break through with its second LP, "Idlewild South."

Now the sound was different, the first record was produced by Adrian Barber, who also produced the first Aerosmith album, with "Dream On," but it was only when the Boston band started working with Jack Douglas that they truly broke through. "Idlewild South" was produced by Tom Dowd. And the sound was different, it was as if a scrim had been pulled off of the music, also the record was not as hard-edged.

Maybe it was the inviting opening cut on the second LP that warmed up non-fans to the act, "Revival," was a Dickey Betts number, his first with the band. Isn't it funny that the big breakthroughs of the Allmans were written by Betts, it was his "Ramblin' Man" that finally conquered AM radio in the fall of '73, it was ubiquitous.

But "Revival" was not.

"Revival" featured the essence of the Allmans, the twin guitars, and of course, Gregg Allman's voice.

Now the first side of "Idlewild South" also includes the sweet "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," before the internet, when her identity was a rumor, passed fan to fan.

But the first side also included the original studio take of "Midnight Rider," long before Gregg Allman slowed it down and featured it on his first solo album, before Waylon and so many covered it.

But still, you only had to hear it once. And the funny thing about "Midnight Rider" is you can never burn out on it. It's one of the few numbers you don't push the button on when you hear it on the radio.

Which was what I was doing just now, listening to the radio, Outlaw Country on SiriusXM.

Once upon a time, the Allman Brothers were rock. Country was something twangy, however also from the south. But now rock is something different, something headbangers make, or Disney stars trying to look hip do. And if you want the straight ahead flavor, you're better off looking at hit country. Which is what I was listening to first, on the Highway. But after hearing a number by Carly Pearce on that channel, the next song was too formulaic, so I switched the station to Outlaw Country, and was surprised to hear the Allman Brothers.

Now what you've got to know is summer is just beginning in Southern California. It may have snowed at Shasta and Mammoth, even Palisades a few days back, but that's a totally different weather pattern. On the east coast, summer is winding down. Those late August nights can have a nip in the air, if you're at camp in New Hampshire, or even Connecticut. The days are getting shorter, the weather is turning, it's clear, summer is gone.

After Labor Day you'll get a few hot days, but it's still cold at night. And then the leaves turn and you might get a bit of Indian Summer, the end of October, certainly November, may be bright and sunny, but it ain't warm, and you often get the dreaded rain. Summer rain is a relief. Cold, wintry rain is depressing, you don't want to go out in it, chills you to the bone.

Eventually it snows. And then it's winter and you're waiting for things to heat up again.

That's not how it works in SoCal. It never gets cold, never ever. And the hottest days of the year come at the end of August and into September, even October. I remember the A/C pooped out in my car back in September one year, I debated whether to fix it or wait until the spring, thank god I did, I needed it in the coming days.

It was 96 the other day. Right now 85. And those numbers are not as hot as they are on the east coast, or even the Midwest, because there's no humidity. That's the thing about California, complain all you want, real estate values are high, as well as taxes, but the truth is only immigrants leave, natives stay, because you can't find anywhere else in America where the living is so easy and the weather so good.

Of course there are exceptions to that, but all I'm saying here is you never get depressed over the weather in Los Angeles. Oh, sometimes it rains cats and dogs, but that's an interesting respite from the days Barbra Streisand lamented in "The Way We Were." And Streisand lives in SoCal, she did not return to New York.

So the summer is a different vibe. It's about the aforementioned freedom, as well as joy, exuberance. Which has been absent from most mainstream music these days. Or is evidenced in mindless drivel.

But that's not the way it used to be. So many of the album rock hits of the seventies were upbeat. Hell, "Hold Your Head Up"?

Not that "Midnight Rider" is exactly upbeat, but it evidences the outlaw mentality. For a generation that was brought up on westerns. Which had to drive if it wanted to explore the new frontier, flying was prohibitively expensive, a rare treat at most.

There was magic in them thar hills. Everybody wanted to go to California first. But there was also Colorado. It was a mentality. And so many records were made in the mountains, even English cats like Elton recorded at Caribou Ranch.

So when you hear those opening notes of "Midnight Rider"...

Actually, it's an acoustic guitar. Sure, there were folkies, now called singer/songwriters, but even the Stones employed acoustics.

And then the song fell into a groove, an hypnotic groove. I'm not a songwriter, I don't know if these grooves are a strike of lightning or whether you can create them anytime, on a dime. Then again, so many of the great tracks are covers of Delta blues numbers, or slight reworkings of them. My point being, how do you come up with that "Midnight Rider" groove? Did the band know it when it heard it, was it a eureka moment, or were they oblivious, believing it was just another in a long line of hooks.

Then there are those congas, that you might not even be aware of the first hundred times through. They're syncopated like the lope of a horse. Once you realize this, you can never forget it.

That's Duane picking the acoustic. But "Midnight Rider" has balls, evidenced by Dickey's slashing electric in the chorus.

And sitting atop it all is Gregg Allman. Not a winner on a TV singing show, but someone whose voice evidenced experience, you could see him singing in a dark studio or out there on the range, alone on his horse.

And then Dickey plays during the break, and then Duane comes along on his slide and dances over the whole thing like a fairy laying down dust, an ethereal character delivering that which humans cannot comprehend, a God sprinkling his essence on the track in an unforgettable way.

And then it's back to the groove.

And eventually to the slow close and fade-out, with Gregg Allman singing over and over again:

"I'm not gonna let 'em catch the midnight rider
Not gonna let 'em catch the midnight rider"

And you believe they never will.

And the number fades on an electric guitar stab off on the horizon, somewhere you want to go, you have no choice but to play the song again, back when you had to go over to the turntable and lift the needle and put it back to where the track began.

Now the truth is Gregg Allman was cool. Yes, he did have that moment after the act's big success where he sold out a member of the band's entourage to stay out of jail himself, but ultimately he was forgiven by his bandmates, when they realized this was the best way to make bank, together.

And then he married Cher.

But he did pass out in a plate of spaghetti at an awards show.

Not even Cher could catch the midnight rider.

And there are very few rock stars who live up to the image. One is Steven Tyler, another is Gregg Allman. They don't have to turn it on, that's who they are. One lippy and loquacious, the other a southern gentleman, speaking slowly and softly, but making you lean in to catch the wisdom.

Now in truth you learn that most of these rockers are not heroes on a personal level, then again, there's that music, that magic.

From back when you had to go to the show to experience it. When there wasn't much more than the music, maybe a t-shirt or a tour program. Could you win people over on your playing alone?

Duane died. We still don't know who he was. You see he didn't talk that much, was not interviewed ad infinitum. And then Berry Oakley bit the dust just one year later. Couldn't anybody convince them to give up their bikes?

No, you can't stop an outlaw. They can't be controlled. At best they can be corralled to lay it down on wax.

The road goes on forever.

And then it ends, it stops because you do, you die.

Musicians don't retire. Didn't I just read that Ian Gillan tell Eddie Trunk that Deep Purple has no intention of retiring, even though their 2017 tour was called "The Long Goodbye," the band has dates booked through 2026.

They don't want to get off the road. Even at home Willie Nelson has been known to sleep on his bus.

The truth is this is all they know how to do. And they can't get those accolades, that love, anywhere else but on stage. And most of 'em need the money. Whether it was stolen originally, or they blew it themselves.

They're not looking to retire. They're the antithesis of the hoi polloi. They don't want to relax, this is their identity.

Usually it ends when you're least aware. Either you saw Jeff Beck or you did not, he didn't do a farewell tour.

And Duane Allman certainly did not. And it's interesting that he's remembered more than so many who are still out there. Duane spoke through his guitar, and that was enough.

So what you've got is a bunch of deities laying down magic that you couldn't get anywhere else. Sure, there was Skynyrd, but they were different. The aforementioned Hatchet, even other bands on Capricorn, but none of them had the quality of the Allman Brothers, who were always one step removed, who you didn't think would do just anything for a buck. They spoke through their music, and that was enough.

And when you hear it you're reminded.

Not if you've never heard it before, then it's just a glimpse into a past that is certainly in the rearview mirror, that you can't get anywhere but in recordings.

I remember getting stoned listening to "Idlewild South" in Dave McCormick's room in Hepburn Hall during a cold January back in '71.

I remember hearing "Ramblin' Man" all over campus before it got cold in the fall of '73.

I remember being infatuated with "Ain't Wastin' Time No More," the opening cut on "Eat a Peach" that no one ever talks about, they were into "Melissa," they named their kids that.

And then there's "Come and Go Blues" from "Brothers and Sisters," an Allman song when everybody was focused on Betts's "Ramblin' Man" and "Jessica."

And in truth, there's even a classic on the band's last studio LP, "Desdemona" off of 2003's "Hittin' the Note."

And now all you've got is dust. Jaimoe is the only original band member left.

It's like they all got on their horses and rode into the sunset, sequentially, we'll catch up with these midnight riders in the afterlife.

But it really all started with "Midnight Rider." And it's not in your face, it's not begging, it's essentially laid back, sans effects, it evidences a humanity only music can.

That's why it's so powerful.

That's why it's forever.


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