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JURASSIC FARTS
By J. D. Edwards (January, 2001)

September was time again for the "big money," nostalgia tours that so characterized the previous decade. No, I didn't see a coupling of .38 Special and Kansas or Styx and REO Speedwagon that so stimulate the retro dollar market. Instead, I saw the remnants of two dinosaur "jam" bands, The Grateful Dead and The Allman Brothers Band, and both bands find themselves in similar situations on this side of the millenium as their long, strange road legacies have grown turbulent of late.

Both bands have lost their defining guitar players and driving forces, Jerry Garcia and Dickey Betts, in the last five years to various extravagances of that never-ending highway. Both have undergone numerous other personnel changes in the 90's, Phil Lesh, Brent Mydland, Warren Haynes and Allen Woody as well as a reputation for legendary losses, Pigpen, Keith Godchaux, Duane Allman and Berry Oakley. Both bands have filled their vacant guitar slots with some of the most promising guitarists on the scene today, Steve Kimock, Mark Karan, Jimmy Herring and Derek Trucks. Both bands still have their long-standing, multiple-drummer drum corps intact, and both retain one other member outside of the rhythm section, each one of the primary singers, songwriters and founding members, Bob Weir and Gregg Allman. And both came within a hundred-mile stretch of I-40 only two nights apart to thrill local fans of "jam music."

The first rejuvenated dinosaur to plod through Carolina was The Other Ones. This year, Bobby & Co. decided to stay out of the ramshackle sheds and grisly summer heat, which brought them to the cavernous confines of the Greensboro Coliseum. Their show opened slowly and awkwardly with "Playin' in the Band," which offered some initial promise opening up very widely after the first chorus. However just when the jam was finding its form, Bobby pulled the reins tightly and countered with Dylan's "She Belongs to Me." Decent versions of "Loser" and "Music Never Stopped" followed, but it was already apparent that these fine musicians were holding back.

The biggest obstacle facing The Other Ones is the irreplaceable nature of Jerry Garcia. While Kimock is an outstanding guitarist (listen to the Phil and Friends shows at the Warfield), he just didn't demonstrate the initiative he did in those shows, delivering several controlled solos and sharing leads with Mark Karan. Garcia's overwhelming presence was sorely missed as well as his unwavering direction, his bottomless reservoir of soul and energy and his ability to take the jam to another level entirely. Kimock and Karan are capable of replicating that distinctive tone and phrasing, but they appear unable to tap into the intangibles that made Garcia a one-in-a-million musician. The sense that I also got was that since there were two lead guitarists neither one really realized their potential. The Other Ones could have easily sacrificed one of the lead guitarists in favor of a saxophonist, thereby adding to the band dynamic and reducing clutter to free up more solo space for whichever guitarist remained.

Actually, many of the band members seemed somewhat restrained. Bassist Alphonso Johnson's presence didn't compare to his last Jazz is Dead tour or Lesh's front-and-center role on the 98 Other Ones tour. And keyboardist Bruce Hornsby contributed his elegant rolling melodies, prodding on Alphonso and the guitarists to greater heights, however his presence was a far cry from his lead role with The Dead in the early 90's. Only Weir's dissonant, splayed chords and the peek-a-boo polyrhythms of longtime drummers Mickey and Billy remained constant.

The band did reach several Dead-like peaks during Hornsby's "White-Wheeled Limousine" and Hunter and Garcia's "The Wheel" as well as during a lengthy dual drum solo with Hart and Kreutzmann playing off of one another and the crowd like in the old days. But those moments of tingly goose pimples that so defined Dead concerts were few and far between. Also, the Dead's hypnotic light show has been scaled down to basics, and the entire Other Ones set clocked in at an anorexic two hours as the band bolted after the "Touch Of Grey" encore ended not long after ten-thirty.

The lack of musical adventurousness and stellar set lists that Lesh took with him to Phil and Friends was also missed, not to mention Phil's voluminous presence and musical leadership. Unfortunately, Phil won't be back with The Other Ones anytime soon as he has been embroiled in a war of words with other members over the sale of the Dead's storied vault. It's just a shame that the bickering has compromised the overall potential of the music. This music was undeniably good, but longtime fans know that there can be much more transcendence to these songs. They are still worth checking out if that yearning to relive a Grateful Dead concert strikes, providing that Phil and Friends aren't playing anywhere in the vicinity because Phil took that aggressive musical abandon and fearless song selection with him when he left.

The Allman Brothers Band are no strangers to change and personal tragedy, including the death of former bassist Allen Woody a few months back. But this year has seen the greatest upheaval in the Brothers' camp since the death of Duane Allman: the firing of founding member and guitar lifeblood for three decades, Dickey Betts. The whole sordid story is probably well known by now, but I'll summarize in case anyone hasn't heard. A recently sober Gregg Allman doesn't particularly care anymore for Mr. Betts' brawling, alcoholic ways. Betts shrugs it off claiming that it's all part of rock-n-roll, adding, "I don't think I have a problem." But Allman differs, citing Betts' reckless playing of late, growling, "just listen to the tapes."

Only Dickey knows whether he needs professional help (although several incidents with authorities make the answer obvious), but given Allman's enduring reputation, Gregg seems like the last person to take exception with either rowdy drunkenness or sloppy musicianship. Nevertheless, the band name is his, and he decides who's in and who's out. For now, they are still touring as The Allman Brother Band, despite Betts' legal attempts to thwart their efforts.

When I first heard that Dickey had been fired and the band was still touring, my first question was, "who could possible fill Dickey's shoes?" When the answer came in the form of Jimmy Herring, I could only say, "Well, if anyone can, then it's him." Of late, Herring has been demonstrating his versatility and skill with many different styles, stinting with Phil and Friends, Jazz is Dead, The Justice League and Frogwings since the dissolution of Aquarium Rescue Unit. Jimmy has always been a Betts disciple, but his super fast, flawless runs align his style and sound equally with the pyrotechnics of Steve Morse.
In the current lineup, Herring reunited with bassist and his former ARU bandmate, Oteil Burbridge, who has anchored the Brothers since Allen Woody left in late 96 to pursue Government Mule full-time. Jimmy and Oteil re-established an instantly recognizable rapport through the long, loping instrumental passages of "Les Brers in A Minor" and "Jessica," ironically enough two Betts originals and now apparently band property. And on slide guitar since Warren Haynes simultaneous departure in late 96, boy wonder Derek Trucks has developed in leaps and bounds since joining the Allmans, particularly the expression of his lead guitar work.

The new blood in the band seemed to be the jolt that the elder members needed. The typically subdued (if not slumbering) keyboardist, Gregg, was playing with a newfound enthusiasm, including his full break on the entire, Eat a Peach version of "Mountain Jam" as well as locking in with Derek on rhythm chords when Jimmy soloed. He also sang with the conviction of a hungry up-and-comer on standards like "Stand Back," "Ain't Wastin' Time No More," "Done Somebody Wrong" and "Every Hungry Woman" as well as the slow blues of "Somebody Loan Me a Dime." Either it's the sobriety or the new companionship or a bit of both, but Gregg has undergone a noticeable revival this year.

Their volcanic three-man drum break and Oteil's poignant bass solo during "Mountain Jam" were treats. In addition to surprises like "Mountain Jam" and "Les Brers in A Minor," Oteil sang a full version of The Dead's "Franklin's Tower," a song the Allmans had teased for years as the intro to "Blue Sky." And thankfully, the band continued to employ their state of the art light show and psychedelic screens, flashing photos of former band members (not Dickey though) and several choice botanical specimens.
Despite their new dynamic, the band ran like a well-oiled machine, and Jimmy filled in for Dickey as well as could be expected. He masterfully nailed the chord sequences and song structures, and Dickey really wasn't missed until solo time. Jimmy is a phenomenal soloist in his own right, but his style and sound are crunchier and less clean than the fluidity of Mr. Betts, spitting out more notes but just not in the style that Brothers' fans have come to expect.

But don't get too used to Jimmy on guitar because Raleigh was rumored to be his last gig in order to join Phil and Friends full time. Buzz is that Warren Haynes may replace Jimmy what with the tragic demise of Government Mule, but that has yet to be confirmed. Either way, the Brothers have survived greater tragedies in the past and always managed to endure.

So here's to two lumbering dinosaurs that continue to fend off extinction. One beast is stumbling uncertainly, just trying to stay alive and plodding around in impressive circles, while another is aging gracefully, still thunderous and sure-footed with some roar left in its charred lungs. Neither will recapture the glories of their heydays or even the relative peaks of their finer reformations, but both were worth seeing, possibly for the last times, before they become fossils, frozen in time and awaiting excavation from thrill-seeking music archaeologists.