There are those rare records so carefully wrought they neither need nor allow further embroidery and Gregg Allman’s first solo album, Laid Back, is just such an effort. But even as the now fifty-year-old LP is an exquisite, one-of-a-kind piece of work, its backstory sheds light not only on the creation of the album itself but also on the fundamental relationship between The Allman Brothers Band and its surviving namesake at the time of the recording.
In the wake of the tragic and unexpected passing of Duane Allman in the fall of 1971, the dynamic within the group altered dramatically in a number of ways. Bassist Berry Oakley stepped up his instrumental work on stage until beginning a downward spiral to his own death roughly a year later in an accident eerily similar to ‘Skydog’s’.
Dickey Betts continued to supply the group with distinctive original material–he wrote and sang the seminal Southern blues-rockers only mainstream hit “Ramblin’ Man”–and elevated his skill as a guitarist, first alone on the fretboard during the completion of the recording of Eat A Peach, then as one of the two focal points of the group onstage when the remaining five toured.
For his part, Gregg Allman dealt with his grief in a variety of ways, most productively in the immersion in his passion for music. Besides contributing to the Allmans’ next studio effort, Brothers And Sisters (albeit in decidedly erratic form), it was during work on his own album that he enlisted the assistance of Chuck Leavell; the latter would go on to join the Brothers based on both his technical skill and his camaraderie with the other musicians involved (including both ABB drummers).
Five decades of hindsight suggests the younger Allman sibling could not have conceived of a more savvy marketing plan than one involving the release of his debut solo album in the autumn of the same year he and his Brothers reached their commercial peak. But given the circumstances surrounding Laid Back, that was hardly Gregg’s intent as he set to work on this endeavor apart from the band (recorded almost simultaneously as the group effort).
His roots as a musician and composer were not all the same as his Allman Brothers’ melding of jazz, straight blues, and country music. Rather it was soul music and R&B in which he found favor, and while the distinction in style may have rendered solo work inevitable on Gregg’s part, the timing only made more sense in such a time of crisis as he encountered. No doubt the surviving sibling would want to make sure he made a personal statement of his own, sooner rather than later.
Reaffirming the skill Johnny Sandlin brought to bear in his role of co-producer (a much more skilled approach with Gregg than in that same role with the group), 2019’s remastering of Laid Back also serves to evoke recollections of the striking impression the album imprinted on its listeners upon its original release. Sonically and emotionally, each track is an unusually rich, fully-formed piece of work.
Plush orchestration helps reinvent “Midnight Rider” in all manner of ways, but perhaps most noticeably in recasting the shadowy figure of the ABB version on the 1970 Idlewild South LP to something of a heroic protector by the time of its author’s wordless chant near the end. The electric piano Leavell plays on “Queen of Hearts” conjures the warm intimacy that he no doubt helped foster, an atmosphere of great solace the artist at the center of the endeavor no doubt found comforting.
Equally vivid are the genuinely romantic ruminations of “Multi-Colored Lady” as they contrast with the earthy soul of “Don’t Mess Up A Good Thing.” Meanwhile, Gregg Allman reaffirms his extraordinary capacity as a singer through his understated but nonetheless striking delivery of Jackson Browne’s “These Days” as well as his own “All My Friends.”
The very sound of his voice in and of itself evokes the broad sense of time and space depicted in the cover art of Abdul Mati Klarwein (who also did Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew and Santana’s Abraxas, among others) and the world-weary but resolute tone, so clearly emblematic of his state of mind at the time of this album’s recording, surfaces again on “Will The Circle Be Unbroken” (which he played and sang with the remainder of the ABB at his brother’s funeral).
Such flash-points of inspiration are in addition to comparable compositions of the period that never made the final cut such as “Oncoming Traffic,” (which was never formally recorded but often performed live). That song appears as the penultimate track of the splendid two-compact disc package One More Try: An Anthology, curated by ABB archivist Kirk West and writer/band biographer Alan Paul (see his One Way Out and Brothers And Sisters books).
A cross-section of demos, outtakes, and previously unreleased alternate versions of songs, dating mainly from the period around which all the ’72-’73 recording sessions took place, the two-CD set was promptly pulled from distribution shortly after its release in 1997 and been out of print since. It is, however, one of the main sources of the twenty-five extra tracks on the aforementioned reissue of Laid Back.
Still, as fascinating as are so many of those selections, especially as they unfold in roughly chronological sequence, this discerning compendium only ranks second as the most fascinating piece of work released under Gregg Allman’s name over the course of his fifty-year career.
