PicoBlog

This is another entry in my ongoing “songs that visited me and decided they wanted to stay” series. I hope you like these enough to become a paid subscriber, because I really need you to keep this series going. This one is free, but not all of ‘em are!

Ain't Wastin' Time No More - The Allman Brothers Band

So, hear us now, we ain't wastin' time no more
'Cause time rolls by like hurricanes
Runnin' after the subway train
Don't forget the pourin' rain

Gregg Allman has the kind of voice that forces you to take a step back. There’s danger there, a sense of foreboding that helped make him perhaps the greatest white blues singer who ever lived. Hellhounds are on his trail. But there’s also immense sadness. The Allman’s have been so drenched in tragedy that it can be difficult to listen to their music purely for pleasure. It conjures up too many ghosts.

Bear with me here. This one jumps around a bit. Ok, maybe it jumps around a lot.

All of this is why I was initially so surprised to hear their song “Jessica” being used in the movie “Field of Dreams” (I warned you). It was so jarring. But within seconds I realized how perfect the choice was. Former 60s Berkeley radical Kevin Costner/Ray Kinsella making his way from Iowa to the East Coast in his old-school VW bus, literally chasing his dreams, to the somehow triumphant sounds of a band that knew every crevice of that road. Try to imagine that scene without that song. You can’t.

Is there anything more American than baseball and the Allman Brothers?

For me at least, this was a turning point. I had these records. I knew the band on its fringes. The long jams. Rambin’ Man on the radio. The death of Duane from ramming the peach truck. And of course Gregg marrying Cher, the couple becoming the Travis and Taylor of their day. But I didn’t really know “Ain't Wastin' Time No More”. I didn’t really know “Blue Sky”. I knew “Dreams” mostly from the Molly Hatchet version. I was an Allman’s dilettante.

But “Ain't Wastin' Time No More”. As the kids say…..OMG. From that rolling piano intro, and the way Gregg’s vocal chases itself around Dickey Betts’s slide. It’s simply glorious. Betts had never played slide guitar before. Duane was a master. There was no need. But when Duane died, Betts was determined to carry on his sound. This was the song he was determined to nail. This was the song that Gregg wrote for the brother who called him “baby bro”. Tragedy sometimes produces the greatest art. Nobody thought the band could reach the same heights without their leader. And yet here they were, on track 1 side 1, scarcely a year after his death, their own grief pushing them towards the greatest music of their career. Dickey Betts could always face off against Duane and hold his own, but now here he was forced to stare down Duane’s ghost. This isn’t just a great song. It’s positively heroic.

The Allman’s became an institution….an ever-changing cast of players filtering in and out of the lineup, many of them sharing the bloodline. Gregg passed away in 2017, and the great Dickey Betts died just last month. Their finest music doesn’t sound at all dated. As I listen to “Ain't Wastin' Time No More” today, my bluetooth speakers seem to levitate. I don’t think they’ve ever heard anything like it before.

*****

I had a dream last night. I was sitting in an easy chair, and Gregg Allman and a gypsy woman walked into the room. They sat across from me in separate chairs. We exchanged smiles but did not speak. Eventually Gregg kinda turned his body to the side so he could snuggle in his chair, and he gently fell asleep. The woman got up and covered him with a nearby blanket, and whispered to him “you better never die on me…”

Eventually the room started filling up with others, and I realized that we were sitting on the stage. The Allman Brothers had set up their gear around us, and as the music started Gregg woke from his slumber. He fumbled for his guitar and amp, and got them set-up. He found his way to his organ and played a few notes. Then he began to sing.

They didn’t ask me to move. I was still in my chair. The band surrounded me. Guitar cables and stage monitors were at my feet. The gypsy woman remained too. She never took her eyes off Gregg. The band paid us no mind. They just stepped around us, and played. At one point Gregg inadvertently bumped my arm as he was playing his Hammond. I looked up at him, and he winked at me.

Then I woke up. I had fallen asleep with my ear buds in. There was talk of storms arriving around 4am, so I didn’t want to be woken up by thunder.

I was listening to Eat a Peach.

To keep the storms away.

In a bit…

—tf

Songs That Visited Me and Decided They Wanted to Stay

Intro
In a Big Country
Found Out About You
Tutti Fruitti
Surrender
Who Knows Where the Time Goes?
Nightswimming
Fast Car
Take Five
Romeo and Juliet
Wichita Lineman
Waterfall
There She Goes
A Sort of Homecoming
Purple Rain
Nights On Broadway
Tough All Over
What Am I Doing Hangin’ ‘Round
Inside Out

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