2020/3/10 The Brothers @ MSG
I’ve been excited for The Brothers show since it was announced and tried to get tickets during the presale and again during the regular onsale. I was somewhat taken aback by the exorbitantly high prices ($225 plus fees = $275) for anywhere in front of the stage in the lower bowl; same deal in the upper bowl if you wanted to be below the bridge. I peeped a pair on the bridge for $50 plus fees and tried for those but missed them. Then they opened the rear stage and I bought a pair for $99 plus fees = $125 dead center in the last row of 112. I was pretty happy with that, especially as being in the last row removed the possibility of any sit vs. stand arguments, a hallmark of Allman shows past.
Fast forward to COVID-19 and perhaps putting this show in a room slightly too big, and Stubhub had $8 tickets in the door, or $26 for the exact seat I was just refunded. Rewind: I contacted Ticketmaster and asked for a refund (never stated a reason, mind you) and had one within minutes. My buyer’s remorse now quelled, I replaced my ticket at an 80% discount to face which also allowed me the mental freedom to come late and spend the afternoon with my son watching state championship high school hoops. Long story short, my alma mater lost by one at the buzzer as a literal last second shot fell through with 0.9 seconds left and the opposing team rushed our court. Ugh.
Walked into MSG at 8:02, missed the first 3 songs and still caught over three hours of music for $25. Woot! “Revival” was just getting underway as I settled in, starting in the first row rear stage. I hate missing the beginning of a show and felt somewhat out of context for a few minutes, almost like I needed to mentally catch up. Within moments I had done just that, in full fucking groove mode by the time “The Other One Jam” worked its way into the middle of “Black-Hearted Woman.” At its conclusion, I moved my seat up to my actual row, dead last in the section amidst a large group of Freaks where I now had a bullseye view of the most amazing steel girded dick, er, uh, mushroom that was suspended and illuminated above the stage. For the record, any time my eyes were open they were lost on the trippy liquid visuals projected on the dick screen. If you’ve never seen a psychedelic mushroom dick, you’re missing out on one of life’s great pleasures.
As the dual guitars penetrated my soul and the authentic sounds of The Allman Brothers washed in, around, and through me, I was struck with the remnant of a thought from the late 2010’s… this iteration of the Allman Brothers (yes, of course I realize that Gregg and Butch have passed) is as good as any as there ever was. The past doesn’t always have to be better. We don’t diminish it by remembering it fondly while honoring and cherishing today. I repeatedly had the same thought through years of Beacon shows – that we were witnessing greatness and the legitimate passing of a torch. These Allman Brothers, with or without any actual Allman brothers, are every bit as authentic (and incestuous) with Haynes and Trucks and Burbridge and Trucks and Jamoie and Leavell and the rest of the Brothers. The Allman Brothers have evolved into an Allman Brotherhood, chromosomal linkage in some instances, descendants from some lineup past in others. I felt every bit of that and I relished the fuck out of it.
A predictable setlist that ran straight down memory lane continued with “Dreams” and “Hot ‘Lanta” before Chuck Leavell joined the band on the baby grand for “Come and Go Blues,” his contributions noticed immediately, simultaneously congruous and in stark contrast to Reese Wynan’s play on the B3. Leavell then lay down the most gorgeous piano intro to “Soulshine,” so gorgeous, in fact, that it inspired the couple in front of me to get engaged right then and there! For real, they were friends of a friend and I was clued in to the fact that it was coming but the enchanting lyrics and piano play fast-forwarded their proposed timetable – see what I did there :). “Jessica” was otherworldly in the set-closing position, Chuck doing his Leavell best while the eighteen strings between Oteil, Derek, and Warren continued to tickle me in all the right spots. The interplay between these three guys, Allman Brothers each and every one, was awe inspiring. After countless conversations about Derek not maximizing his potential and playing it safe, I feel confident saying that Oteil and Warren bring out his very best, challenging him in all the best ways. We saw the very best of each of these men, and it made for a night that will forever be etched in my memory.
Intermission felt like cocktail hour at a family Bar Mitzvah, tinged with the awkwardness of COVID-19 and thoughts of whether it was still appropriate to handshake, hug, kiss, or lick my friends. At times I followed other people’s lead, and at others I completely forgot and led with a handshake or a hug. As a day and half have passed since the show, it’s now very clear that “social distancing” is neither a joke nor a game and it’s time to get with the program and behave responsibly. These thoughts were all in the air, whether spoken or not, but they affected attendance and contributed to the fuck it vibe that made this feel like an end of the world Garden party for the ages. Due to the roughly ⅔ attendance, MSG had a GA feel to it, allowing me to bounce around for the start of the second set, visiting different groups of friends with ease and enjoying some of the best seats in the house in the process. Truth be told, on this night – and I wouldn’t trade any of those moments with friends scattered around the arena – my favorite seats were with a large group of friends behind the stage. Amidst reports of muddled sound at times elsewhere in the arena, the sound back there was pristine all night and the visuals were better from that spot than any other in the arena IMO.
Because of the basketball game, I didn’t think I’d make it before the second set anyway so the hour of goodness that I did catch was house money. But that second set, oh man, that was the payoff! “Mountain Jam” got things started in glorious fashion, a 20-minute behemoth that segued into “Blue Sky” with Chuck Leavell on vocals. His vocals may not have been my choice, but no harm, no foul, it was still glorious. I actually took a seat (and got called out for it by a friend who used the same time to go the bathroom, lol) during “Desdemona.” I didn’t sit because it sucked, I sat because I had an unobstructed aisle view from five rows up at center ice and it was kind of nice to rest my legs while still rocking from the most primo spot in the house. “Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More” was another glorious rocker, Chuck’s last song until the encore.
Now back in the familiar confines of my rear stage haven, “Melissa,” “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed,” “No One To Run With,” and “One Way Out” were the wham-bam-thankyouma’am ending to a splendid set and a triumphant evening.
Obviously there would be an encore, and “Midnight Rider” kicked it off, Leavell back on the baby grand. A true ABB rocker, not selling it short at all, but even the most casual fan knew that “Whipping Post” would put the final punctuation on this perfect night. It delivered in spades, and if that was the last song that anyone hears live for some time (and it just may be), well, it was a song befitting of kings. I danced Coronavirus inappropriately with a few neighbors, my last bout of reckless abandon before a heightened level of social responsibility and awareness would set in for me personally in the day that followed.
You see, I do not live in fear. Never have. At least not fear of the “flying is dangerous” or “you may get sick” variety. If I encounter a poisonous snake, I’ll be scared, but I typically don’t change my behavior in avoidance of said snake. I’m also not a germaphobe, like not even a little bit. Maybe I’m the exact type of person you should be avoiding in times like this because I’m the exact opposite of cautious and prudent. Forget hugs and handshakes, I like to lick my friends. Maybe I’m too smart (or dumb) for my own good. If I wasn’t with the program Tuesday night, then I am now. I’m not sure what my activity and social life will look like in the coming days, weeks, and months, but “social distancing” is now a necessary evil. Toe taps and elbow bumps for the foreseeable future … until then … lick ya later 😉
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