Fillmore West 11.6.70 – Zappa, Boz, and More.

Frank Zappa Fillmore West 11.6.70 Photo: M. Parrish

Freak Out!, the first double album by the Mothers of Invention, was among the first dozen or so albums I bought, and Frank Zappa’s compositional skills, the eclectic musicianship of the original Mothers, and their greasy, sarcastic personae held great appeal to me as a mid-teen aged music nerd. Although I had all of their albums, the first opportunity I had to see Zappa in person was in November of 1970. Zappa and the Mothers topped a typically eclectic Bill Graham quadruple bill at the Fillmore West. Not unlike something out of one of Zappa’s cheesy teen anthems, a planned date to go to the show fell through at the last minute, so I once again headed up to San Francisco on a Friday night with my dad to Market and Van Ness.

At the Fillmores, Bill Graham was extremely fond of throwing together eclectic mixes of performers. Some made for artistic magic and others seemed – well – thrown together, and that was more the case for the Zappa show. Opening were two solid touring power trios from the UK. Bottom of the bill (and absent from the poster) was Irish band Skid Row (not to be confused with the later hair metal band), who played the familiar loud blooz rock that Cream had adopted from Chicago bluesmen like Buddy Guy a few years earlier. Skid Row’s guitarist was a young Garry Moore, who later became a regular guitar foil for Cream’s Jack Bruce,. They had briefly included future Thin Lizzy front man Phil Lynott on bass, but he was gone by the time I saw them. I honestly don’t remember much about Skid Row’s set – they couldn’t have played too long because of time constraints.

Next up were Liverpudlians Ashton, Gardner, and Dyke, who are best remembered today for one significant hit – “Resurrection Rag.” A bit proggy, A, G, & D put on a reasonable show that ended up with them doing that “Rag.” After splitting up in 1972, Ashton, Gardner, and Dyke performed in a number of short lived bands with former members of Deep Purple and Yes. They put on a pretty good show, but didn’t make much of an impression.

After departing the Steve Miller Band in 1968, guitarist Boz Scaggs disappeared for a year or so, re-emerging with his sublime eponymous solo album on Atlantic, which he had recorded in Muscle Shoals with the studio’s crack session team augmented by Duane Allman, who played a particularly dazzling solo on “Loan Me a Dime,” the Fenton Robinson blues that became Scaggs’ signature tune. After the album’s release, Scaggs assembled a large ensemble that became one of the best live bands during their time together from 1970 to 1972. The group’s first album together, 1970’s Moments,  was quiet, elegant, and jazzy – a strong departure from much of what was coming out at the time,  and a record that has stood the test of time much better than some of Scagg’s later disco efforts. Scaggs built his band around a set of talented and seasoned players, including former Mother Earth drummer George Rains, guitarist Doug Simril,  keyboard player Jymm Joachim Young, and a horn section made up of trombone player Pat O’Hara, sax and flute player Mel Martin, and trumpeter Bill Atwood (later replaced by Tom Poole). Scaggs’ sets of that era relied heavily on material from his first two solo albums, as well as a long, spacy version of“Baby’s Calling Me Home” from the first Capitol Steve Miller Band album.  The horn section did a lot more jazz blowing than R&B punctuation, and Young’s organ was a perfect counterpart for Scaggs and Simril’s heavily reverbed guitars.

Jeff Simmons, Flo, and Eddie 11.6.70 Photo: M. Parrishj

Frank Zappa’s original Mothers of Invention had been a relatively stable group for nearly five years, and that was the ensemble I fully expected to see at the Fillmore. However, Zappa had broken up the Mothers the previous November and, since June, had been touring with an entirely different group of Mothers built around former Turtles vocalists Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan (who assumed the nom de plumes of the Phlorescent Leech [later shortened to Flo] and Eddie during their tenure with Zappa).  This group was as theatrical, if not more, than the previous group, but relied much more on physical comedy,  pubescent humor, and heavily vocal arrangements. In addition to Zappa, the group had some very accomplished instrumentalists in jazz keyboard player George Duke, multi-instrumentalist Ian Underwood (the sole carryover from the 'classic' Mothers), and drummer Aynsley Dunbar. Bass player Jeff Simmons was also a solo artist on Zappa’s Straight label who had recently released Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up, which has subsequently become a cult classic.

Aynsley Dunbar and Zappa 11.6.70 Photo: M. Parrish

Zappa had recently finished filming his first movie Uncle Meat in 1969,  but announced at the Fillmore that the show was being filmed for a second movie, 200 Motels. Uncle Meat was not released as a film until a video version came out in 1987, but the 1969 double LP of the same name was one of the best efforts by the jazzy, middle period Mothers. 200 Motels, on the other hand, was released commercially in 1971. The film, starred a bizarre cast including Theodore Bikel and Ringo Starr. No footage from the Fillmore show was included in the movie proper, but much of the material filmed showed up in a 1971 VPRO TV documentary on Zappa and was also excerpted in Zappa's 1988 documentary The Real Story of 200 Motels. When you take into account the widely distrubuted soundboard tape of much of the performance, this stands as one of Zappa's best documented concerts. 

Zappa and Cameraman 11.6.70 Photo: M. Parrish

The set of music the band played the night I saw them was similar to much of what was released on Fillmore East June 1971, mixing  old Mothers songs like “Call Any Vegetable,” “Little House I Once Lived in” and a greatly shortened “King Kong” (all modified to incorporate the new vocal-heavy lineup) with new material like “The Sanzini Brothers” and “Do You Like My New Car?” which was built around comedy routines by Kaylan and Volman and allowed them to trot out the Turtles hit “Happy Together.” Although the group’s instrumental chops were still considerable, I was pretty disappointed that there wasn’t more Uncle Meat-style instrumental extrapolations. Still,  I was glad to have seen Zappa during this period and, if nothing else, he and his bandmates proved great photographic subjects, probably due at least in part to the film crew's presence.

Jerry Garcia and his banjo in Santa Cruz 1973-75

Jerry Garcia performed relatively often in the Santa Cruz area with his various bands from 1975 until 1985, but his previous appearances were few and not too well documented. Garcia clearly had friends in the area, but seemed to either not be interested in making the trip down south for gigs or, possibly more likely, lacked an appropriate place to play in the area and/or a reliable promoter to work with.

Poster for 10.5.73 OIITW Show

The first Garcia gig I know of in Santa Cruz county (not counting possible acid tests or undocumented early Dead gigs) was on October 5, 1973 at the Santa Cruz Civic Auditorium with Old and In the Way.  From 1978 on, Garcia played at the Civic on a number of occasions with his touring band, but this was a rare opportunity to see him on banjo in an acoustic setting. Old & In the Way, which also comprised Peter Rowan (guitar, vocals and principal songwriter), David Grisman (mandolin and vocals), John Kahn (bass) and a variety of fiddle players (most prominently Vassar Clements, who was on board at the Civic gig), had been playing as an ensemble since March, 1973 in between Garcia's gigs with the Dead and Merl Saunders. Other than a couple of concert hall/bluegrass festival mini-tours back east, OIITW had pretty much restricted themselves to club gigs at places like the Keystone Berkeley, Homer's Warehouse, and the Boarding House, so the SC Civic (capacity 2000) show was a large one for them, and a pretty big payday for the other band members, even at the $3.50 advance/$4 door tariff. The promoters, Jelly Roll Community Productions, probably promoted some other shows in the area, but never established themselves as a regular force in the region's concert market.

For many years, the SC Civic had been underused as a concert venue. The first show I saw there was an early Santa Cruz Neil Young gig with the Stray Gators the previous spring (3/10/73) about which I will write more later at some point. The venerable and relatively intimate venue has always been a fine place to see concerts, with good sight lines from almost anywhere on the floor or the raised stands that ring the arena. It remains a cultural icon in Santa Cruz, hosting concerts on a regular basis along with the annual season of appearances by the city's very popular Santa Cruz Roller Derby Girls. The OIITW show was general admission, with chairless festival seating on the floor. I recall our contingent getting a very good position on the floor a few people back from the stage. The hall was full, probably sold out, but not oversold.

Although I had heard a few OIITW shows on the radio, the Civic show was the only time I saw the bluegrass quintet live. They were preceded by two solo acts. First up was Bruce Frye, who had spent  the lead singer and principal songwriter for the beloved Santa Cruz proto-jam band Oganookie (which will get a post of their own at some point) before the group broke up a few months earlier. As a hometown hero, Frye's laid back solo set was brief but well received. Next up was folk legend Ramblin' Jack Elliot, who by this time lived in Marin and traveled in the same circles as the members of the Dead. Elliot opened at least one other OIITW show, the group's last regular gig at Sonoma State on 11/4/73. An old pro, Elliot worked the crowd masterfully with his short, alternately wry and wistful performance before the stage was set for Old and In the Way.

I did not make a set list for the OIITW set, and no recordings seem to exist of the show, so I can only approximate what was played (Paradoxically, the compere announced that the show was being broadcast live on Santa Cruz radio station KUSP - so far as I know, no recordings of the broadcast exist!). The group's repertoire is very well represented by the band's original album (which remains one of the best selling bluegrass releases today) and the several subsequent archival releases on David Grisman's Acoustic Disc label. Most of Peter Rowan's OIITW originals were played - "Lonesome LA Cowboy," "Panama Red," "Midnight, Moonlight," and an extended version of "Land of the Navajo" to finish up the one long set. I think they opened with the Stanley Brothers tune "Goin' to the Races" and they also played the Jack Bonus Tune "Hobo Song" as well as Grisman's "Old and In the Way." Garcia took a vocal lead on another Stanley Brothers tune, "White Dove," while Rowan shone on his interpretation of the Stones tune "Wild Horses." Late in the set, Ramblin' Jack came out to yodel the Hank Williams classic "Waiting for A Train." Particularly impressive was the fiddle work of Vassar Clements on his own "Kissimee Kid" and the set closing extravaganza "Orange Blossom Special." I'm sure more was played, but I was mostly familiar with the OIITW repertoire from a couple of radio broadcasts at that point and don't trust my memory any further. The group seemed in high spirits and played very well together, leaving little indication that they would call it a day (other than a short reunion at the 1974 Marin Bluegrass Festival) after two more gigs. For whatever reason, I did not bring my camera to this show, probably operating under the assumption that I would have the opportunity to photograph the group under more favorable circumstances at some other time. Too bad.

In February, 1975, Margarita's a new watering hole/restaurant featuring live music opened at 1685 Commercial Way, just east of Highway 1 in south Santa Cruz. The club was nicely appointed, airy, and featured very good Mexican Food. They had a 'soft opening' on February 16 with Kingfish, and scored a real rarity a few nights later that will be the focus of the rest of this post. To get a feel for Margarita's and their adventurous and diverse booking policy, here is a reasonably complete schedule of the club's adventurous jazz/rock/blues bookings during the Winter/Spring/Summer of 1975:

2/16  Kingfish
2/20, 21  Good Old Boys
2/22,23  Sons of Champlin
2/24,25  Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee
2/27,28  Earl "Fatha" Hines
3/1,2      Albert King Revue
3/8         Etta James, Anna Rizzo and the A Train
3/12,13  Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show
3/14,15  Kenny Rankin
3/17  Gato Barbieri
3/21   Butch Whacks and the Glass Packs
3/22   Pablo Cruise
3/23   Billy Cobham
3/27   Don Ellis Big Band
3/28   Snail
3/29  Chameleon
3/30  Ray Brown
4/1,2  Eddie Harris
 4/3  Chameleon
4/4,5  Hugh Masekela
4/7,8  George Benson
4/10  Chameleon
4/11,12  Jimmy Witherspoon
4/13 Hoodoo Rhythm Devils
 4/14  Eleventh House with Larry Coryell
4/18 Snail
 4/19 Pablo Cruise
4/20  Snail, Larry Hosford, Artichoke Revue
4/22,23  Return to Forever
4/24  Oregon
4/25,26  Beau Brummels
4/27  Bobby Hutcherson/Randy Masters
4/29,30  Willie Dixon and the Chicago All Stars
5/1  White Eyes
5/2,3  Cold Blood
5/4  Dirty Butter
5/5  Caryn Robin
5/7,8  Burrows-Larson
5/9 Grinders Switch
5/10 Tubes
5/12 Caryn Robin
5/14,15 Jeremy Steig
5/16,17 Muddy Waters
5/23,24 Etta James
5/25 Snail
5/27 Chameleon
5/28,29 Holly Penfield
5/30,31  Tubes
6/1 White Eyes
6/3 Brian Auger
6/5,6 Stoneground
6/7 Kingfish
6/10 Freddie King and Pablo Cruise
6/12-14  Snail and Raw Soul
6/15 White Eyes
6/16 Caryn Robins
6/19 Dirty Butter
6/20,21 Keith and Donna
6/22 Snail
6/23 Caryn Robins
6/24 Feltones
6/25, 26 Country Joe McDonald
7/13,14 James Cottom
7/16,17  Sons of Champlin
7/18,19 Jerry Miller Band
7/20 White Eyes
7/21 Burrows-Larson
7/22 Holly Penfield
7/25,26 Raw Soul
7/27,28 Soundhole
7/29 Holly Penfield
7/30,31 Stoneground
8/1,2 Albert Collins
8/4,5 Hedzoleh Sounds
8/6,7 Bo Diddley
10/2 Merl Saunders
10/3 Kenny Rankin
10/4-5 Jerry Miller
10/6 White Eyes
10/7 Artichoke Brothers
10/8-9 Kathi McDonald


Jerry Garcia's second appearance in Santa Cruz during the 1970s was a very low key affair. As was the case elsewhere in the bay area at that time, he could show up at a club, get a reasonable but not unmanageable crowd, and get to play some music without a lot of the hoopla and baggage that came with a Dead show. Because Margarita's had just opened, publicity for this show was pretty miniscule - a concert schedule listing in Santa Cruz weekly rag Sundaz was about all there was. I had learned about it when I went to the Kingfish show that opened the venue. Given Garcia's popularity, it was surprising to find a relatively sparse group in attendance. I went to the second of the two evenings, on February 21.

During early 1975, Jerry Garcia's principal playing output was the Garcia/Saunders Band, which was shortly going to start billing themselves as Legion of Mary. The Dead were on hiatus except for a few one-off appearances such as the one they would do the next month at Kezar Stadium. So why would Garcia show up playing banjo in a tiny Mexican Cantina in Santa Cruz with an entirely unique lineup? Posts in both Jerry Garcia's Middle Finger and Lost Live Dead have posited that Garcia often experimented with formats in out-of-the-way venues, and Margarita's certainly fit that bill at that point in time.

At Margarita's the Good Old Boys comprised Garcia on banjo, mandolin player Frank Wakefield, New Riders guitarist David Nelson, fiddler Brantley Kearns, and standup bassist Pat Campbell. During the course of their set, it became apparent that the group, less Garcia (who had produced) and augmented by bluegrass legends Chubby Wise on fiddle and Don Reno on banjo, had just recorded an record an album, Pistol Packin' Mama, that came out a few months later on the Dead's Round Records label. Clearly Reno and Wise, who participated in two days of recording for the album, had already decamped back down south, so Garcia was recruited to fill the banjo slot, and Kearns, who was also an actor and went on to work successfully with Dwight Yoakum a few years later, had been selected as the fiddler. I wish my memory of the set was more substantial, but it is no surprise that they played most, if not all, of the material on the album, which included the title tune, "Ashes of Love," "Dim Lights," and "Glendale Train" from the NRPS repertoire and "Deep Elem Blues" (Wakefield's version) which was a regular in the Dead's 1970 acoustic set lists.  Garcia sang a couple of tunes, "All the Good Times" and "Drink Up and Go Home," another tune that appeared a few times in 1970 Acoustic Dead sets.  it was a fun, low-key evening, and Garcia, Nelson, Wakefield, Kearns, and Campbell seemed to be really enjoying themselves. Amazingly, this performance was released on CD in 2018 on Rock Beat Records, having been recorded by John Cutler, later the Dead's sound man, using Owsley Stanley's Nagra Reel to Reel recorder.  

Although Garcia did not make a return visit to Margarita's he started to visit Santa Cruz more regularly thereafter, first for three 1975-76 shows (10/8/75, 2/26/76, and 8/19/76) with the JGB at the Del Mar Theatre, downtown on the Pacific Garden Mall, and later at both the Catalyst two blocks down Pacific  (11 shows from 1979-85: 3/30-31/79 5/27/79, 2/7/80, 1/18/81, 1/29/81, 2/2-3/82, 10/13/82 and 10/16/85) and back at the Civic Auditorium (2/19/78, 3/5/83, and 2/24/87).

As for Margarita's - their high-profile booking policy seems to have been hard to sustain financially and, even by the time the gig summary above tailed off, they were relying more and more on homegrown Santa Cruz talent and closed by sometime in 1977. Margarita's was visited on several occasions by Neil Young's stealth tours of Santa Cruz, at least once in 1976 and, I believe, on several nights during his summer of 1977 residency with the Ducks, which I will get to here in due time...
Today the location is a medical/dental office building, but a relatively similar venue, Moe's Alley, is located about a block away, at 1535 Commercial.

Grateful Dead Fillmore West 6/5/70 and 8/19/70

 During the summer of 1970, the Dead continued to tweak their concert format. With the addition of the New Riders into the shows, along with the acoustic sets, the Dead could now provide an entire evening of music on their own. However, the June 1970 Fillmore West run of the group was transitional in that the billing followed the traditional Bill Graham three act format, with the poster listing the Dead, the New Riders, and Southern Comfort. My father and I went to the Friday show of the set, which meant dealing with end-of-week traffic that resulted in us getting in a bit after the show had started. Based on the format of previous Graham-booked Dead shows, we pretty much expected the Dead’s acoustic set to be folded within their electric set at the top of the bill. Therefore we were surprised to walk into the Fillmore to the strains of acoustic guitars and Bob Weir singing “Silver Threads and Golden Needles.”  The acoustic configuration of the Dead sounded more polished than it had in April, and again both Hart and Pigpen were absent. The repertoire was pretty familiar, the still unreleased “Friend of the Devil,” “Me and My Uncle” transferred over from the electric repertoire, and two tunes from the recently released Workingman’s Dead: Black Peter and the set closing “New Speedway Boogie,” for which Garcia switched over to electric guitar. Unlike the previous evening’s acoustic set, a tape of which recently surfaced,  neither David Nelson nor John Dawson from the New Riders participated in the evening’s acoustic set,

Following the acoustic Dead set was a great set by Southern Comfort, a band of seasoned Bay Area blues players that included drummer-vocalist Bob Jones, organist Steve Funk, guitarist Fred Olson, and a horn section comprising trumpeter John Wilmeth and saxophonist Rev. Ron Stallings. The group had recently released their debut album on Columbia, produced jointly by Nick Gravenites and soon-to-be Garcia sidekick John Kahn. Their big band blues-rock sound was very much in the style of what Gravenites and guitarist Michael Bloomfield were dishing out in that era – not too surprising as several of the Southern Comfort musicians, notably Jones, Wilmeth, Stavro, Olson, and Stallings, also played in the Bloomfield/Gravenites bands of that era. Sadly, Southern Comfort proved a relatively short-lived experiment, releasing only the one, eponymous album in 1970, but they sounded great live.

Next up were the New Riders, playing what may have been their first Fillmore West run (I have seen the New Riders listed as having played the evening of 2/7/70, but this is unconfirmed and doubtful). The Riders had tightened up considerably in the couple of weeks since I had seen them at Peninsula School, another indicator that David Torbert was a very new recruit to the band in spring of 1970 (see discussion here). No real surprises in their set, which was mostly first NRPS album material augmented by tunes like “Truck Drivin’ Man” and “Six Days on the Road.”

Weir and Kreutzmann 8.19.70 Photo: M. Parrish

The Grateful Dead played a particularly long, expansive electric set, starting out with their most frequent opener of that era, “Cold Rain and Snow.” “Easy Wind” brought McKernan to center stage, and provided an early opportunity for some open-ended jamming, followed inevitably by one of Weir’s cowboy covers, Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried.”

For whatever reason, the Dead rarely played "Dark Star" on their home turf in 1970 (2/8/70 and possibly 4/11/70 are the only verified Dark Stars played in northern California that year), but they seemingly loved to trot out the "Cryptical Envelopment/Other One" suite on home turf. A napkin compilation shows the Dead playing Dark Star once (possibly twice if they played it on 4/11/70) in Northern California out of 24 shows for which complete set lists exist. By contrast, they played  the "Cryptical" suite (or sometimes just "The Other One") at 12 of those 24 shows. By contrast, looking at shows in greater Metropolitan NYC (28 total), "Dark Star" and "Cryptical" were played 11 times each. Needless to say, the long number on 6/5 was again "Cryptical Envelopment" leading into a short drum duel followed by “The Other One" and back into a long, mellow “Cryptical" Coda, which threatened to go into "Cosmic Charlie", but eventually wound down, leading directly into the first hometown version of “Attics of My Life,” which the Dead would shortly be recording for inclusion on American Beauty.  Laced with complex vocal harmonies, “Attics” was always hard for the Dead to pull off in concert, and this version has its share of shaky harmonies.  Neglected mid-set, Pigpen was given two showcases in a row, a rollicking, if flub filled, “Hard to Handle” followed by one of many long, snaky versions of “It’s a Man’s World” that the Dead played between March and September, 1970, when it mysteriously vanished from their repertoire for good. As curfew time approached, the main set wound up with a nice electric version of “Uncle John’s Band.” The encore consisted of a dynamic twofer of “St. Stephen” charging into “Casey Jones.” This show was notable for me as the only 1970 Dead show that I was able to hear all the way to the end although, as fate would have it, I missed its beginning.

Two months later, the Dead announced an early week August run back at the Fillmore West (this time a full “Evening with the Dead with no support other than the NRPS), and I convinced my brother, home from college for the summer, to go up with me for the Wednesday, 8/19/70, show. Contrary to the report in Deadlists, there was no opening bluegrass group unless they played well before the 8 PM start time. By August, the Dead’s acoustic sets had become more arranged and complex, with an acoustic piano onstage and an extended segment featuring Dawson and Nelson from the New Riders. The band was recording American Beauty concurrently with the Fillmore run, and thus it was no surprise that the show featured a good chunk of material from that album, along with a good selection of traditional folk and blues tunes.

Acoustic Dead 8.19.70 Photo: M. Parrish

Weir kicked things off with “Monkey and the Engineer,” a tune he learned (along with “Beat It On Down the Line”) from Oakland one man band Jesse Fuller. Garcia came back with the traditional “How Long Blues” augmented by some gospel tinged piano. The keyboardist was not clearly visible from my vantage point (or in the photos), but my thesis is that some of the piano was played by Ned Lagin (who was visiting the Dead from back east that summer and played on American Beauty), and the rest was played by Pigpen. "Friend of the Devil" was composed by John Dawson, Jerry Garcia, and Robert Hunter in late 1969, and became a hallmark of the Dead’s acoustic sets from late February. Friend of the Devil had entered the acoustic dead repertoire early on, but was much more polished in its incarnation that evening, thanks in part to the addition of the piano part. Weir, whose compositions on American Beauty consisted of "Sugar Magnolia" and a co-writing credit on “Truckin,” dipped back into the public domain for the bluegrass chestnut “Dark Hollow.”

8.19.70: Acoustic Dead - Kreutzmann, Nelson, Garcia, Weir Photo: M. Parrish

Another Garcia-Hunter ballad, “Candyman” had shown up in March, and formed the first part of a three song medley of American Beauty tunes, rounded out by the combo of “Brokedown Palace” and “Ripple,” merged the way they are on the album. These two songs made their live debut that weekend, and "Ripple" flowed effortlessly out of "Brokedown Palace." Curiously, this pairing was apparently abandoned as an in-concert vehicle following the August Fillmore run.  Best known as an electric tune, “Truckin” had debuted in the Dead’s repertoire as an acoustic shuffle the night before, and was performed that way in concert through September, first emerging as an electric piece at the 10/4/70 Winterland gig. The acoustic version was predictably more concise than the expansive versions that emerged in later years, but was a good vehicle for what was essentially a story song.

The brisk workout on another traditional tune, “Cocaine Blues” was sung energetically by Garcia, and ornamented by some very fine mandolin work from David Nelson. Nelson was also instrumental in driving along Garcia’s version of another bluegrass standard, “Rosalie McFall.” Next Garcia switched to electric for a couple of tunes, “Wake Up Little Suzie” and “New Speedway Boogie,” which also featured piano work that I believe is too nimble to be attributed to Pigpen. 

Gospel Quartet 8.19.70 Photo: M. Parrish

To close out the extended acoustic set, Nelson returned, along with John Dawson, to fill out a bluegrass gospel quartet for a couple of sweetly sung sacred tunes, “Cold Jordan” and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.”

These shows and the September runs at the Fillmore East were arguably the pinnacle of the Dead’s acoustic sets. They had experimented with entire unplugged shows in San Diego on August 5 and at the Family Dog back in March, but the decision was ultimately made, possibly for logistical reasons, to scale back the frequency of the acoustic opening sets as the year progressed, and they were gone entirely by year’s end, replaced by the familiar format of one or two long electric sets.

After a short break, the New Riders were given a nice long set, comprising some new Dawson material including “I Don’t Know You,” “Last Lonely Eagle,” and “Dirty Business,” which was a showcase for some spectacularly outside Garcia steel playing. By this time, Dawson was sporting a beard, and had traded his Guild acoustic for a Fender Telecaster. 

During the acoustic set, Bob Weir had launched into one of his shaggy dog stories, this time dealing with an encounter with a particularly vicious “Kodiak Woodchuck.” In response to that story, an unidentified emcee introduced the Dead’s electric set with the following into “Out of the wilds of Marin County, sometimes known as the Kodiak Woodchuck Motherfuckers – the Grateful Dead!” Once again, the slow, funky arrangement of “Cold Rain and Snow” kicked off the set, followed by “Me and My Uncle” and “Easy Wind.” 

Garcia and Lesh 8.19.70 Photo: M. Parrish

My brother, who had a summer job at Hewlett-Packard, decided we had to leave at that point. Fortunately, an intrepid audience taper recorded the show, so I know that I missed a unique pairing of “St. Stephen” and an embryonic “Sugar Magnolia” as well as a set closing “Not Fade Away”/”Lovelight” medley featuring guest David Crosby. Unfortunately, this was to be the last time I saw the Dead proper in a live venue during 1970, although I did keep up with their progress during the TV/Radio broadcasts on 8/30/70 (Calebration), 10/4/70, and New Year’s Eve. In retrospect, I wish I could have seen a few more shows from that year, but I was happy to have seen the five I got to attend, and am grateful for the extensive audio archive available from 1970 for the Dead.

New Riders of the Purple Sage at Peninsula School 5/12/70 and 5/28/71

Peninsula School is a progressive, private K-12 school located in Menlo Park, California. Founded in 1925,  Peninsula is located in a huge Victorian house on wooded grounds in the eastern part of Menlo Park, just off Middlefield Road. As a junior in high school in Palo Alto, I had never heard of the school until I saw a hand lettered sign at Menlo Park’s Discount Records announcing a Tuesday afternoon gig by the New Riders of the Purple Sage there in April, 1970 (the most likely date appears to be 4/28/70). Because I was not yet of driving age, I rode up there after school on my bike.

Members of the Grateful Dead family had multiple connections to Peninsula School. Bob Weir, John “Marmaduke” Dawson, and recording engineer Bob Matthews all attended the school at various times, and Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter apparently played their first gig there back in 1961. A useful discussion of the school and its shared history with the Dead can be found here.

I had known about Garcia’s flirtations with the pedal steel for some time, largely through its appearance on tunes like CSNY’s “Teach Your Children,” the Airplane tune, “The Farm,” and the album version of “Dire Wolf” on Workingman’s Dead. I was also well aware of Garcia’s musical collusion with a character known as “Marmaduke” through frequent listings in newspaper calendars for “Marmaduke and Friends” which over time had morphed into listings for “The New Riders of the Purple Sage.” There was also a demo tape (later released on an NRPS album, Before Time Began) comprising early versions of “Superman” and “Garden of Eden” that featured Garcia’s loopy steel licks that got very infrequent airplay on KSAN, but that was about all I knew of them. I had tried to see the NRPS late the previous year when they were allegedly billed at the Poppycock in downtown Palo Alto, but they turned out to be no-shows the night they listed in the newspaper ad. The ad for the Peninsula show listed “Jerry Garcia, Mickey Hart, Bob Weir and others from the Grateful Dead,” but Weir was a no-show unless he arrived after I left.

Garcia as Roadie 4/28/70
Photo: M. Parrish

When I arrived at Peninsula, parked my bike, and ponied up my $3. I joined a modest crowd (certainly less than 100 people who mingled on the playground beside the school. The bands set up in a handball court of all places, and there was no backstage whatever. In retrospect, this probably would have been my best chance ever to strike up a conversation with Garcia, who was holding forth with what clearly were a bunch of old friends, but I was far too shy to do so.

Opening Act 4/28/70 Photo: M. Parrish

The New Riders were preceded by another band that played some free jazz with rock overtones. I have no idea who they were, and they didn’t leave much of an impression. Once they had finished, the Riders started to set up, and I was struck by the fact that Garcia, with no road crew in sight, assembled his own pedal steel.

NRPS 4/28/70 Photo: M. Parrish

Recent speculations suggest that the configuration of the New Riders that recorded their first album had most likely only been together a few weeks at the time of this show. Nonetheless, their mutual connections went back several years, to the dawn of the San Francisco rock scene. Garcia and guitarist David Nelson were bluegrass buddies who first started playing together back in the 1961 or so. Dawson, a bit younger, had also been part of the south bay folk-bluegrass scene, and was apparently a sometime member of Mother McCree’s Uptown Jug Champions, the jug band that spawned the Dead in 1964. Nelson had relatively recently played with bassist David Torbert in the mysterious New Delhi River Band, and succeeded the Dead’s lyricist Robert Hunter, their bassist Phil Lesh, and their recording engineer Bob Matthews in the NRPS bass slot. Dead drummer Mickey Hart held down the drum chair as he would do until the end of the year, when he would cede it to Spencer Dryden.

Garcia on Steel 4/28/70 Photo: M. Parrish

The New Riders began their set with an energetic version of Chuck Berry’s “Brown Eyed Handsome Man” sung by the diminutive, mustachioed Dawson, center stage (or racketball court), who kept time with his Guild acoustic guitar. This was my first encounter with lead guitarist David Nelson, and his Nashville licks from his hot-rodded Telecaster were as much a defining element of the early New Riders as Garcia’s inimitable take on the pedal steel. Bassist Dave Torbert, presumably only a few weeks into his term in the band, was still a tentative presence, playing solid bass and adding harmony vocals when the occasion demanded. Off to stage right was Hart, wearing a Giant’s cap and the epitome of a laid back drummer, in sharp contrast to his often furious onstage presence with the Dead.  Wedged in between Hart and Dawson was Garcia, rapturously hunched over his pedal steel and sporting a few days of growth towards the latest incarnation of his trademark beard.

Mickey Hart 4/28/70 Photo: M. Parrish

I don’t have a detailed set list for the show, but it did feature a number of Dawson originals, including ”Henry,” “Louisiana Lady,” and “Glendale Train” alongside country classics like “Truck Drivin’ Man,” “Dim Lights, Thick Smoke, and Loud, Loud Music” and “Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down.” As the afternoon shadows grew long, I had to beat a retreat back to Palo Alto, so I don’t know just how long the Riders played, or what other gems they might have pulled out.

Thirteen months later, the New Riders were again booked to play at Peninsula, for a Friday afternoon gig preceding their much more substantial payday at Winterland later in the evening. I was scheduled to attend the Dead/NRPS show that evening, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to see the band in this intimate setting once more. For the 1971 gig, the powers that be at Peninsula had the bands set up on the deck at the front of the main building of the school. Again, a relatively obscure rock band opened the show. With a nod to Garcia, they opened their set with a speedy rendition of the Dead’s first album arrangement of “Cold Rain and Snow.”

Marmaduke 5/28/71 Photo: M. Parrish

New Riders 5/28/71 Photo M. Parrish

When the Riders set up, consipuous in its absence was Garcia’s pedal steel rig. Once the band took the stage, we were informed that Garcia was under the weather and had chosen to rest up for the evening’s show rather than schlepping down to Menlo Park for a few hours. Thus we heard one of the very few New Riders gigs of that era without a pedal steel player. By this time, I had probably heard the New Riders a half dozen times, and their afternoon set held few surprises other than the absence of their steel guitarist. Dawson was shaggier, and was now playing electric rather than acoustic guitar. Spencer Dryden was a dynamic presence on drums, and Torbert was a much more commanding presence on bass and vocals. Because of the logistics involved in going home, picking up my dad, and driving to Winterland, I again missed the end of the Riders set. The drive up to the city turned out to be for naught, as Garcia’s illness had deepened, and the Friday Dead show was cancelled and rescheduled until Sunday evening. We did get to the Sunday show, missing the legendary Saturday show where much of the audience was dosed by some spiked Kool Aid. As far as I know, the 1971 gig was the last time the New Riders played at Peninsula School, and Garcia’s tenure with the band was only to last a few more months. These two shows provided great opportunities to hear the group up close, in their formative stages as a touring entity. 

The Grateful Dead visit the Old West - Harding Theatre 11/7/71

I thought I would take the opportunity of the 40^th anniversary of this show to reflect on the first time I saw the ‘new’ Grateful Dead. After the summer shows, press reports indicated that Pigpen had taken ill and would have to stay off the road for awhile. Rumors were that the band had brought in a new guy as a replacement, who of course proved to be Keith Godchaux. For the first local shows with Keith, the band chose a relatively unique setting – the 500 seat Harding Theater, located in San Francisco’s Divisadero District. A somewhat decaying movie palace that still maintained some of the elegance of yore, the Harding had apparently become somewhat of a hangout for Garcia, as he played there for sure on September 23 (with the New Riders) and possibly on September 10 with Merl Saunders and perhaps even on September 3,4 with the Dead (no confirmation of these latter shows exists other than a calendar listing in the Berkeley Barb, but I tend to concur with JGMF that they may well have occurred, as an audition of sorts for keyboard player Howard Wales).

By this time, the Dead’s local shows were mostly either at Winterland or, occasionally, at the Berkeley Community Theater, so the Harding was indeed a tiny venue for the band. I learned of the 11/7 show the afternoon of the gig, via an announcement on KSAN that indicated that tickets would go on sale at, if I remember correctly, 2 PM (they had also played at the Harding the night before). My long suffering father and I drove up to the city and joined maybe a dozen or so people in line by probably 1:30. Just after two, someone from the band showed up to open up the box office for the theatre, and started selling tickets, collecting the money in one of those little metal cashboxes which was notable for me as the first time I saw the skull and lightning bolt insignia that became so ubiquitous shortly thereafter. With a 500 seat capacity and a two buck cover, the show wasn’t likely to be a big cash night for the band at the door, but it was presumably underwritten to some extent by Warner Brothers, who were sponsoring radio broadcasts in most of the cities on the band’s fall tour, including the 11/7 broadcast on KSFX. At any rate, we collected our tickets, drove back to Palo Alto for awhile, and returned to the show with Mike K., a family friend who had just started at Stanford that fall.

When we got back to the theatre, probably 630 PM, tickets were still available, and we easily got some nice seats stage left about halfway back. The setup in the theatre was pretty loose – there was no real division between the backstage area and the stage proper, and band members and crew were wandering about. What was apparent right off the bat was that the sound was going to be pretty different, as evidenced by Godchaux’s imposing grand piano on the left side of the stage.

Contrary to popular wisdom and convention of the day, the New Riders did not open the show. Instead, the Dead played two long sets – certainly the longest show just by the electric Dead that I had heard up to then. As they were tuning up, Garcia and Lesh waxed academic, with Jerry positing “If you are sitting at home listening to this at home, you’re hearing the sound faster than if you’re in the hall” and Lesh saying “I’d say that was about 432 cycles” to Weir’s howling into the mics.”

After a solid opening tune, “Truckin’” , Weir announced “You’ll all be appalled to learn that our monitors just went out and we just don’t know what to do. That means we don’t have the foggiest idea of what we are doing up here.” Lesh said “This probably isn’t even going out on the radio, so why worry” (it was...).  After some more bantering (including a failed attempt by Bill Kreutzmann to get Weir to do a trick with his dog Otis), the monitors were restored and the group played the first of many songs that night that were new to my ears – the gritty Americana ballad “Brown Eyed Women,” followed by a raucous “Beat it On Down the Line.”

At this point, the monitors went out again, and the band finally chose to whip out a nice, letter perfect version of the surf guitar instrumental “Hideaway, ” written and originally recorded by one of Garcia’s principal electric guitar influences, Freddy King, with new guy Keith Godchaux following the changes flawlessly.

With the monitors restored, the band went right into “Sugaree.” Although the band had been playing it since late July, this Garcia/Hunter lament to a lost lover was still pretty fresh. Next up was another pair of brand new tunes, Weir and Hunter’s masterful cowboy opera “Jack Straw” and an uptempo reading of Garcia and Hunter’s infectiously sing-songy “Tennessee Jed,” built on one of those inimitable Garcia guitar arpeggios. On the radio broadcast, Godchaux’s piano was prominent in the mix the whole night, and it was truly impressive how well he had integrated into the subtleties of the group dynamic – making strong melodic and rhythmic contributions without overplaying his hand. Hearing his mastery of the complex and vast repertoire, it was hard to believe that he had auditioned for the band a scant six weeks earlier. 

Back on more familiar ground, the group extended their old west motif with “Cumberland Blues,” “El Paso,” and “Big Railroad Blues” before pulling out another new one – the beautifully existential Garcia/Hunter lament “Comes A Time.” The set wrapped up with two new Weir tunes – yet another cowboy ballad with “Mexicali Blues” and “One More Saturday Night” which he prefaced with “Boy are you guys gonna love this!”

After a generous break, Garcia started set two with yet another of the font of new songs, “Ramble On Rose,” followed by Weir’s tribute to Janis Joplin with Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee.” Next it was back to the barroom for “Loser,” followed by a curious placement for “Sugar Magnolia,” yet to achieve its customary set closing position. A generous jam started with the first live version I had heard of “Dark Star” which led into an “Other One” sandwich with yet another cowboy ballad, “Me and My Uncle,” making up the filling. A broken string brought the jam to a premature end.

Next up was the second Garcia/Hunter card tune, “Deal” which features one of Garcia’s neatest chord progressions. Although the hour was drawing late, the band played on, with another set of shortish tunes: “Brokedown Palace,” a relatively concise “Playing in the Band,” and “Casey Jones” before heading into the home stretch with the era’s traditional set closing “Not Fade Away>Goin’ Down the Road Feelin’ Bad >Not Fade Away” raveup.  It was well past midnight, so we hit the road after the first encore of Johnny B. Goode. However, the rest of the crowd was more persistent, and was rewarded (after a very long bout of clapping) with a lilting “Uncle John’s Band” to close out a remarkable evening of music.

My mother managed to tape the show for us back at the ranch, and I must of listened to the tape of this show dozens of times in the era when few such live shows were available. Replete with strong versions of some of Garcia and Hunter’s very best tunes, this remains one of my favorite Dead shows, and it was a pleasure to slip it on to relive that evening that, incredibly, was four decades ago.  


For another take on this show from the Dead Listening Guide (and a link to a streaming audio file) go here.

Frost 1970 - Country Joe and Quicksilver

Greg Dewey and Country Joe
Frost 4/26/70
Photo: M. Parrish

By 1970, the first generation of San Francisco bands had begun to experience significant changes in personnel and style. Janis Joplin had left Big Brother and the Holding Company by late 1968, and both the Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead had shifted personnel (and directions) on more than one occasion. However, two of the groups that saw the most drastic makeovers were Country Joe and the Fish and the Quicksilver Messenger Service, both of whom headlined concerts at Frost Amphitheater during 1970.

On April 26, 1970, Country Joe and the Fish headlined a show that also featured the Joy of Cooking and Eric Burdon and War. Another warm, sunny Sunday afternoon of music in the bucolic, tree-lined bowl, with a trio of top-flight acts.

Joy of Cooking 4/26/70 Ron Wilson and Toni Brown
Photo: M. Parrish

The Joy of Cooking comprised guitarist Terry Garthwaite, keyboardist Toni Brown, drummer Fritz Kasten, bassist David Garthwaite, and conga player Ron Wilson. Terry Garthwaite and Toni Brown were both doing the singer-songwriter circuit in Berkeley when their paths crossed and decided to put together a band. Their styles contrasted starkly. Garthwaite’s style was rooted firmly in the blues and she had the gravely voice to carry it off convincingly. Brown had come out of the New England folk scene and was more of a classic singer-songwriter. The two harmonized beautifully and they decided to round out a performing unit with Kasten, Garthwaite’s brother David (who preceded Neighbor on bass), and Wilson. A very popular live act, particularly in the greater Berkeley area, the band was still many months away from releasing the first of their three albums on Capitol records when they played the Frost show. Their set featured a variety of tunes by each of the vocalists, and closed with the dynamic medley of “Brownsville” and “Mockingbird” that was the centerpiece of their first, eponymous album that came out in 1971.

Eric Burdon 4/26/70 Photo: M. Parrish

Lee Oskar (War) 4/26/70 Photo: M. Parrish

Howard E. Scott (War) 4/26/70
Photo: M. Parrish

British rocker Eric Burdon relocated to California in the late 1960s and, after making a couple of psychedelically tinged albums with a new lineup of Animals, gave up the group name entirely to front a multicultural band of Southern California musicians that called themselves Eric Burdon and War. I believe that the band’s set at Frost was their first northern California gig, and it was a loose, open ended affair with lots of extended instrumental jamming. The centerpiece of the set was a fully formed version of “Spill the Wine,” which went on to be the group’s biggest hit. They also played a highly stylized interpretation of the Stones tune “Paint it Black,” and wound things up with a bluesy version of “Mystery Train.” Onstage, Burdon epitomized the ‘long haired leaping gnome’ image with which he self-identified in “Spill the Wine” while his bandmates showed the formidable instrumental chops that served them well for decades after parting company with Burdon in 1972.

Country Joe McDonald 4/26/70
Photo: M. Parrish

Barry Melton and Doug Metzner
4/26/70 Photo: M. Parrish

After completing two classic albums (Electric Music for the Mind and Body and Feel Like I’m Fixin’ to Die) and one pretty good record (Together), Country Joe and the Fish splintered in early 1969, leaving just Country Joe McDonald and lead guitarist Barry “the Fish” Melton from the classic lineup. After a few months of touring with Big Brother’s rhythm section (bassist Peter Albin and drummer David Getz), the Fish reconfigured with bassist Doug Metzner, keyboardist Mark Kappner (a holdover from the Getz-Albin lineup), and former Mad River drummer Greg Dewey. This lineup was the one that played Woodstock, and was also the one present at the Frost show. The Fish were to break up for good a few weeks later, but they certainly put on an energetic performance that afternoon. The set list was kind of disappointing to me, as it mostly comprised material from the group’s forthcoming album CJ Fish and their most recent (and weakest) effort, Here We Are Again. With his hair cut short, aviator shades, and a trim moustache, McDonald looked quite a bit different than he had at Woodstock the previous summer.  Melton, Brillo head of hair fully intact, sung a good number of the tunes, including the stinging set opener, “Babylon” and a hard rocking version of “Love Machine.” The set’s strongest performance was on a relatively innocuous tune from CJ Fish, “Rockin’ All Around the World,” on which McDonald pushed the tempo and inserted one of his blues raps in the middle. Inevitably, the set (and the show) closed with a somewhat desultory run through “Feel Like I’m Fixing to Die” and a long tepid encore of “Motherless Children/Mr. Big Pig/Return of Sweet Lorraine.”  The Fish splintered for good a few weeks later, with McDonald reverting to a solo acoustic performance format.

Robert Savage 8/9 /70 Photo: M. Parrish

David Freiberg, Gary Duncan, and Dino Valenti
Frost 8/9/70 Photo: M. Parrish

John Cipollina and his legendary hot-rodded Amp
Frost 8/9/70 Photo: M. Parrish

David Frieberg, Dino Valenti, Gary Duncan
Frost 8/9/70 Photo: M. Parrish

Dino Valenti Frost 8/9/70 Photo: M. Parrish

On August 9, 1970, a seriously retooled Quicksilver Messenger Service returned to Frost after a two year absence. The group’s ‘classic’ quartet lineup splintered at the end of 1968, when guitarist Gary Duncan took off to form a group with QMS svengali Dino Valenti. In the meantime, the remaining three members of Quicksilver jammed with first album producer Nick Gravenites, played on his solo album My Labors, and ultimately convinced master session pianist Nicky Hopkins to join the group. This version of Quicksilver cut a lovely, if overly mellow, LP entitled Shady Grove, but only played a few low profile gigs during the year of its existence. In the meantime, Duncan and Valenti’s group never flourished, and both of them rejoined Quicksilver in time for the band’s 1969-70 New Year’s gig. The early 1970 QMS gigs were spectacular, with a few new Valenti songs and some memorably extended version of tunes like “Who Do You Love” informed by the instrumental textures afforded by John Cipollina’s and Duncan’s twin guitars and Hopkins’ rippling piano fills.  The group decamped to Hawaii in the spring and cut two albums dominated by new Valenti tunes as he steadily asserted his dominance as principal singer-songwriter and front man for the band. By mid-summer, Hopkins departed leaving the six-man Quicksilver that played on a blazing hot Sunday afternoon on the Stanford Campus. Opening for Quicksilver was the Robert Savage Group, a heavy blues-rock trio that cut one album before disappearing from sight. At the time, they shared a number of bills with Quicksilver. Their set at Frost featured some powerful lead guitar, but no particularly memorable songs or moments.

The first Valenti-led Quicksilver album Just for Love had come out earlier in the summer, and was eagerly anticipated. Up to then, Valenti, whose roots went back to the Greenwich Village folk scene and had cut a fine, atmospheric solo album for Epic in 1968, was highly regarded by the rock intelligentsia. However, his macho posturing, the deference he showed to his bandmates, and the subjugation of the once free-jamming band into a vehicle for Valenti’s treacly love ballads was painful to see and hear. Echoes of the Quicksilver of old emerged in Cipollina’s “Cobra,” bassist David Freiberg’s lovely take on “Pride of Man,” and an abbreviated run through the Duncan-sung “Who Do You Love,” but the majority of the set was given over to Valenti pieces like “Fresh Air” and “What About Me,” which were the titles of the two albums that came from the Hawaii sessions that had included the seven piece Quicksilver before things started to fall apart. The photos show just how hot it must have been onstage and, Valenti’s presence aside, the band turned in a very energetic, and well received, performance. Sadly, Valenti and Duncan’s further tinkering with the group would lead to its further disintegration with Cipollina’s departure later in the year, followed by Freiberg the next year. I remember really enjoying the set at the time, and my perceptions of the gig are certainly colored by the way the band’s subsequent history unfolded in the months to come. 

2/22/70 Delaney and Bonnie and Friends with Eric Clapton

By 1968, Eric Clapton was arguably one of the biggest stars in the music business, a fact reinforced by the fact that his bay area concerts had migrated from the Fillmore to Winterland and, then, for Cream’s Farewell tour in October and Blind Faith’s sole Northern California date the following August, to the cavernous Oakland Coliseum Arena. Thus, it was a great surprise when his next set of appearances, as a member of Delaney and Bonnie’s Friends, were back at the Fillmore West.

Although Clapton’s appearance at such a small venue was perhaps unexpected, the billing actually made sense. As has been extensively discussed in Clapton’s autobiography and elsewhere, he bonded with Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett when the duo were one of the opening acts on the Blind Faith tour. Clapton, disenchanted with the hype of his own ‘supergroup’ was charmed by the gospel/R&B inclinations and down-home hospitality of the Bramletts, and joined them, along with fellow luminaries George Harrison and Dave Mason, on the group’s European tour. That tour yielded a wonderful live disc,  simply titled On Tour (recently expanded to a 4 CD compilation by Rhino’s boutique label Handmade). On the heels of the release of the live album, Delaney and Bonnie, with Clapton in tow, set out for a tour of America that culminated with a four day run at the Fillmore West.

Although I was of driving age by then, I still had to con my brother into going to one of the shows with me, and we ended up going on the final (Sunday) show for some reason, along with his college roommate Dave. It turned out to be quite the adventure.

The booking for the shows included three opening acts – the New York Rock and Roll Ensemble, and Dutch rockers Golden Earring.

New York Rock and Roll Ensemble (Michael Kamen on Left)
Photo: M. Parrish

I had actually seen the New York Rock and Roll Ensemble at Stanford the previous year performing the music for the Joffrey Ballet’s pioneering rock ballet Astarte (an amazing and groundbreaking event in itself, but one I don’t feel qualified to write much about). The group’s forte was bringing classical embellishments into a rock context, and their performance at the Fillmore was solid, but does not bring back strong musical memories. In an interesting serendipity, the group’s keyboardist and principal composer, Michael Kamen, went on to have a very successful career as a composer of soundtracks, and collaborated occasionally with Clapton on projects, including the music for Lethal Weapon II. 

Golden Earring 2/22/70
Photo: M. Parrish

Golden Earring hailed from the Hague in Netherlands, and were already big stars in Europe when they came to the US for this support gig. The group’s onstage posturing and over the top volume and attack presaged the imminent rise of heavy metal, but they went on to have a global AM hit with “Radar Love” and remain a popular and active group in Europe today. They had recently gotten quite a bit of airplay with a 19 minute extrapolation of “Eight Miles High” and did not disappoint by performing an appropriately extended version at the Fillmore. Overall, their hard driving set was certainly memorable, and it was fun to watch them thrashing about.

Delaney Bramlett and Eric Clapton 2/22/70
Photo: M. Parrish

Although Harrison and Mason had not chosen to make the stateside trek with Delaney, Bonnie, and Eric, the lineup of their “Friends” at the time still consisted of a stage full of high caliber musicians who all went on to various fame, fortune (and in one case, misfortune). The stellar rhythm section of bassist Carl Radle and drummer Jim Gordon gave the group much of its propulsive drive. After this tour, they along with the band’s organist, Bobby Whitlock, went with Clapton to form Derek and the Dominoes. Radle went on to be Clapton’s bassist for many years, while Gordon played with Traffic, did tons of sessions. Unfortunately, he eventually succumbed to schizophrenia and was jailed after killing his mother.

Jim Price, Bobby Keys, Bonnie and Delaney Bramlett
Fillmore West 2/22/70 Photo: M. Parrish

The group’s horn section comprised saxophonist Bobby Keys and trumpeter Jim Price. Both were veterans of many rock and R&B tours, and knew just exactly when and how to use their instruments to pump up the group and the audience. After the breakup of this lineup of Delaney and Bonnie and Friends, they were recruited by the Rolling Stones, who also knew a thing or two about getting a crowd on its feet. You can read much about Keys’ legendary exploits in Keith Richards’ autobiography, and Keys is still the group’s first call sax player when they tour. Price keeps a lower profile, doing mostly composition and session work.  An Internet search fails to locate any mention of conga player Tex Johnson after the D&B tour.

Vocal support was provided by Rita Coolidge, who went on to be part of Joe Cocker’s Mad Dogs and Englishmen troupe before launching a successful solo career. Guesting on piano, possibly just for that one night, was pianist Leon Russell, who at the time was between the successful launch of his first solo album and the role he played as bandleader and mastermind behind the aforementioned Mad Dogs and Englishmen tour later that year.

Bonnie and Delaney Bramlett, Eric Clapton
2/22/70 Photo: M. Parrish

The On Tour album had been released a few weeks before the Fillmore West shows, so the capacity audience knew that Clapton’s role would be principally as lead guitarist and occasional lead vocalist, so there was none of the angry heckling or calls for Cream tunes that had characterized some of the troupe’s earlier UK shows. The repertoire for the night was mostly drawn from the album, with a few other covers and the odd original thrown in.  With Delaney Bramlett and Clapton the sole guitarists, the sound was leaner than it had been on the European tour where three and sometimes four guitarists tried to avoid musical collisions.

The Bramletts wrote some strong tunes singly, as a duo, and with collaborators like Clapton, Russell, and Whitlock, who wrote the powerful, "Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way" with Bonnie.  At the show I saw, this tune was stretched out with a rousing gospel tinged coda that featured some rousing harmonies between Whitlock and the Bramletts. Clapton sang two songs, the slow, soulful “I Don’t Know Why,” which he wrote with Bonnie, and Robert Johnson’s “Crossroads,” rendered much slower and funkier than the frenetic versions he played with Cream. Johnson was toasted directly  with the slow, Memphis tinged Bramlett-Russell medley dedicated to the late bluesman, with Clapton contributing some stinging leads (this medley has recently been revived by the Chris Robinson Brotherhood, the Black Crowes leader’s jam-heavy side project). The set-closer was the Clapton-Bramlett showpiece “Coming Home,” which was built on one of the guitarist’s dramatic, arpeggiated riffs.  Brought back for the inevitable encore, the group ripped things up with a Little Richard Medley of "Tutti Frutti," "The Girl Can’t Help It," "Long Tall Sally," and "Jenny, Jenny."

With the concert finished close to 2 AM, our evening turned out to be just getting started. The three of us returned to our parent’s car, a big cream colored Chevy Impala, to find one of the rear tires had gone flat. Maybe an hour later, we had changed the tire, only to find out that the spare was also flat. Fortunately, there was an all night gas station at the corner of Mission and Van Ness that was able to fix the flat. While we were waiting for them to get to the repair,  the station was visited by an inebriated fellow who attempted to hold up the station by brandishing a knife. Nonplussed, one of the two gas station attendants smoothly relieved him of the knife and, I believe, sent him on his way without calling the authorities. This may have been business as usual for a gas station south of Market, but it was quite a drama for us kids from the suburbs. The sun was just coming up when the tire was back on the car, just in time for my father, who my brother had called after the spare proved to be flat, drove up in his Austin Healy Sprite.  He didn’t seem to mind having gotten up in the middle of the night for nothing, but I think he wished he at least could have heard the concert.