I Was There When: The Original Lineup of The Allman Brothers Band Stole the Show At UVM’s Patrick Gymnasium

I had never heard the Allman Brothers Band when I decided to attend their concert at the University of Vermont’s Patrick Gym in late February of 1971. But I was curious about what a band led by Duane Allman might sound like because I was so taken by his performances on Derek & The Dominos’ Layla, released the previous autumn. I had no inkling whatsoever how transformative this experience would turn out to be.

UVM used to hold a week-long winter carnival around this time of year annually, during which festivities the school’s Student Activities Concert Bureau would offer a concert. This year the bill consisted of The Chambers Brothers (of “Time Has Come Today” fame) with the Allmans as the opener. My attendance, however, consisted of the first act only: so satiated as I was by the latter’s performance, it would’ve been redundant to stay, so I left the building almost as soon as the ABB departed the stage.

One of the most memorable moments of the evening actually occurred before the Brothers played a note. Apparently unrecognized by virtually anyone present—there was neither applause or whoops of joy at the sight of him–Duane Allman came out on stage alone to tune his guitar and, in the process of doing so, placed his lit cigarette in the head of his instrument; at that point, some self-righteous wag in the audience was compelled to yell “Put that thing out!” and, in response (but without looking up at all), Skydog simply raised his left hand to flip his middle finger at the do-gooder. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, thinking this guy had a personality I liked!

The Allman Brothers’ performance turned out to be far more deeply moving than that mere titillation. In fact, their set planted the seed for my eventual realization of just how fulfilling live music can be. Their sure grasp of the blues hit home. especially during gutsy vocal turns of Gregg Allman’s like “Trouble No More,” but expansive instrumental passages struck a chord as well; unlike finding my mind wandering as so happened listening to Live/Dead or any one of the extended Cream concert recordings of the time, the dense, focused musicianship of this sextet held my attention without interruption, except for that momentary flash of recognition, round about mid-set, at how much I was enjoying what I was hearing.

In retrospect, it was no doubt the drive of the ABB rhythm section, consisting of bassist Berry Oakley and dual drummers Jaimoe and Butch Trucks, that supplied a focal point for me to follow as I listened and watched things like “Whipping Post.” But the guitar playing throughout was extraordinary to my ears and eyes as well; even though I was early in my days of learning to appreciate improvisational music, I could easily tell Allman and his fretboard partner Dickey Betts were equally brilliant guitarists, but also complementary ones: those harmony lines they played on “Don’t Keep Me Wonderin’” sound like nothing so much as a further (and wholly logical) extension of their simpatico approach.

The ABB setlist was their standard repertoire for the times, not all that dissimilar from that choice of vintage material recorded at Bill Graham’s Fillmore East on those epochal nights just about three weeks later. Still, given the somewhat muted response the Allmans elicited while on stage, due no doubt to lack of between-song repartee and the total absence of any overt bow to showmanship, it’s little wonder I found myself in arguments later that evening back at the dorm, defending the group against accusations they were merely showing off: apparently, only a few in attendance on the basketball court floor or in the bleachers of Patrick were as enraptured as I by the Brothers.

Even so, I did not run right out and purchase the unit’s studio albums. But I did snap up At Fillmore East upon its release the following summer and the double album confirmed my impression(s) of the musical moments in the gym. That, in turn, validated my decision to walk across campus in the middle of winter, a serendipitous move that has ultimately resulted in my listening to and seeing the Allman Brothers Band more often than any other artist I have ever followed.