Published on Feb 3, 2002
One of the most difficult things for listeners of the
present-day to do is try to understand the historical significance
of recordings from years past. Oh, sure, some artists, like Elvis
Presley and The Beatles, are easy to analyze, maybe because they’ve
been kept under the crosshairs of the microscope of fame for as
long as anyone can remember.
In the case of The Allman Brothers Band and their 1969
self-titled debut, it might be a little harder for listeners in
2002 to understand what the fuss was about. After all, the blues
explosion had taken hold around this time, and anyone these days
who hears the names of Gregg and Duane Allman immediately tie them
in with the burgeoning Southern Rock genre, right?
Guess again, Lumpy. While the blues influence is undeniable on
this disc,
The Allman Brothers Band is about as Southern Rock as Pat
Boone is a metalhead. If anything, this six-piece combo could have
easily been on the Stax label for their soulful renditions of
songs, both covers and originals. It’s not the best Allman Brothers
record out there, but it’s got some stuff that is, even today,
absolutely jaw-dropping.
On the surface, the Allmans had the makings of fitting in to any
number of genres. Their Southern upbringing might have mistakenly
led people to assume they were some kind of a country band. The
two-man percussion unit (Butch Trucks and Jai Johanny Johanson)
wasn’t a new idea – hell, the Grateful Dead had started using that
not long before this disc hit the market. The psychedelia crowd
latched onto the Allmans; it was not uncommon early in their career
to share a stage with the Dead (and sometimes even jam with
them).
If you’re getting the feeling that The Allman Brothers Band
were, at least early in their career, unclassifiable, you’re
getting the picture – a picture which becomes crystal clear once
you hear the music on this disc. Their riveting take on Muddy
Waters’s “Trouble No More” still sends shivers up my spine, even
though I’ve heard it more times than I can count. Likewise, the
jazz-tinged “Dreams” and the show-stopper “Whipping Post” (the
latter a playful thorn in Frank Zappa’s side) continue to amaze me,
among many other listeners. Even a lesser track like “It’s Not My
Cross To Bear” has its foundation reduced to sonic rubble courtesy
of the blues wailings of Gregg Allman – he seals the deal for this
track.
I dared to hint that
The Allman Brothers Band was not the strongest disc in their
collection – a statement I make only because I can run hot or cold
on tracks like “Every Hungry Woman” and “Black Hearted Woman”. This
isn’t suggesting these are bad tracks, just that they don’t have
the same emotional punch to the gut that the barn-burners do.
In all honesty, I’d have no problem recommending to someone
interested in learning about the Allman Brothers Band to pick up
their boxed set
Dreams, price be damned, and to take a big drink from its
musical pond. If they only wanted to experience one album – well,
it would be a hard call.
Eat A Peach is a recognized classic, but
The Allman Brothers Band has more than a few strong
arguments on its side as well. It’s probably the most appropriate
place to begin one’s journey on all things Allman – and even with
slight weaknesses, it was a fine way to introduce themselves to the
record-buying public.