Tom Waits & Howdy Doody

In May 1973, Tom Waits was opening act for Buffalo Bob's Howdy Doody Revival at Atlanta's Great Southeast Music Hall. Yep.

display ad
The Great Speckled Bird, May 1973

Capricorn Barbeque & Summer Games, August 1976

[This maybe should be a Milledge Circle (Athens) post, but the groundwork was laid during Seal Place days.]

It was the best birthday I ever had. I pretended the party was mine. It was actually the Capricorn Records Annual Barbeque & Summer Games, a company tradition held just outside Macon at Lakeside Park. In 1976 the event happened to fall on my birthday. I was in my last year at UGA in Athens, majoring in graphic design, and had been trying to settle on a senior thesis/project. My attempt to affiliate the project with Capricorn did not pan out, but art director Keith Crossley remained supportive and encouraging, and kindly sent me an invitation to the label's annual party.

Invitation, 5th Annual Capricorn Barbeque & Summer Games,
Lakeside Park, Macon GA, August 19, 1976

I was allowed to bring two guests. Cousin Hal agreed to drive, and our friend Dave came along, too. (They were both active Atlanta musicians and veterans of several local bands.) It was in the pipeline that then-Presidential candidate Jimmy Carter would be in attendance. Capricorn founder Phil Walden was a key Carter supporter, and they had become good friends. Cousin Hal had a 1960-something black Cadillac Fleetwood land-yacht at the time. We secured small, flapping American flags at each front quarter panel in an effort to make as Presidential an entry as possible. Many heads did turn as we pulled into the parking area.

It was a beautiful day, with a comfortable breeze off the lake and cool shade under the trees despite being in the dog days of August. Trails lead through the park past random open bars scattered along the paths. The barbeque feast was laid out buffet-style in the covered pavilion along the water's edge. Picnic tables were in another pavilion a short walk from there. That's where we ran into Andy Warhol and his business manager Fred Hughes. We had linked up with my friend Mike Duke and his Wet Willie bandmate Ricky Hirsch by that time. The photo below predates the term "photobomb," but qualifies nevertheless.

Andy Warhol (center) flanked by Fred Hughes (L) and Rick Hirsch (R).
Rick slid into the photo frame at the last second.
Andy, no surprise, was fiddling with a camera.
Cousin Hal (in hat) and friend Dave are just behind Fred.
[personal photo]

Jimmy Carter arrived, too, along with his Secret Service contingent. He had attended a previous Capricorn barbeque while serving as Georgia Governor, and was casual, friendly, and laidback in the best sense. It was a day to enjoy good food, good music, and good people. It was not about campaigning and pressing the flesh.

1976 Democratic Presidential candidate Jimmy Carter
walking alongside Capricorn Records founder Phil Walden.
[personal photo]

A stage was set up a bit further into the trees, and jams unfolded throughout the afternoon. Many Capricorn musicians were there, and players stepped on and offstage in endless combinations. Again: casual, friendly, and laidback. There was a strong contingent from Atlanta. Around nearly every tree we ran into someone we knew.

Alan Walden (L) and Michael Duke
[personal photo]

It was a birthday party I could never have imagined. Not a care in the world. We said our goodbyes as the sun began to set, and headed back to the city. It was, as the late Lou Reed would sing, "Just a perfect day...such a perfect day."

Alexander Memorial Coliseum

• 965 Fowler Street NW, Atlanta GA (on Georgia Tech campus)
• Capacity: approx. 8600
• Note: In 2010, the arena received $45 million facelift, which included additional seating expanding the capacity to over 9100. Upon completion, the facility was renamed the Hank McCamish Pavilion. It continues to be home court for Georgia Tech's basketball teams.

Alexander Memorial Coliseum

1970

• The Guess Who - April 24
• Allman Brothers Band, Smith - May 9
• Blood, Sweat & Tears - 

1971

• Judy Collins - April 17
• Steppenwolf - May 14
• Chicago - October 28 (benefit for Voter Education Project)

1972

• Bread - January 22
• Richie Havens - January 29
• The Beach Boys - March 30
• Ten Years After, Wild Turkey - April 22
• Stephen Stills & Manassas - May 15
• West, Bruce & Laing; Edgar Winter; Mose Jones - October 26

1973

• Yes, Poco, Les Moore - April 19
• Uriah Heep; Earth, Wind & Fire; Tucky Buzzard - September 21
• Loggins & Messina, Mark-Almond, Shawn Phillips  - October 24
• J. Geils Band, Foghat - October 28
• Sly & The Family Stone - November 1
• Black Oak Arkansas, Spooky Tooth - November 22
• Emerson, Lake & Palmer - November 28
• The Isley Brothers - December 8

1974

• Yes - February 11
• Traffic - April 23
• Blue Oyster Cult, Manfred Mann, Hydra - May 4
• Kool and The Gang, Eddie Kendricks, The Bar-Kays - May 5
• Doobie Brothers, Henry Gross - May 11
• Earth, Wind & Fire; Richard Pryor; Chambers Brothers - May 25
• Lynyrd Skynyrd, Hydra - September 20
• Seals & Crofts - November 16
• Black Oak Arkansas, Trapeze, Kiss - November 23

The Allman Brothers Band, Atlanta, July 1971

My teenage self attended the afternoon show, which, no surprise, remains in my top five lifetime concerts. Duane and Berry were still with us that summer...

The Allman Brothers Band,
display ad, The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 4 No. 29

Honorary Locals

In the early 1970s, some out-of-town musicians became so ubiquitous in Atlanta that they may as well have been locals. Those who had settled in Macon (e.g., Allman Brothers Band, Wet Willie, Cowboy) were already part of the family, but others hailed from further afield. They played Atlanta clubs and concert venues frequently, and built devoted followings in the city. South Carolina's Marshall Tucker Band and Florida's Lynyrd Skynyrd are maybe most obvious, but these others gained an early toehold in Atlanta as well. Club venues ranging from the tiny 12th Gate to the larger Richards drew the best. Part of the draw and interaction within those clubs was the physical layout: an approachable open stage adjacent to tabled seating, devoid of extreme risers or other off-putting barriers. In contrast, a venue like Alex Cooley's Electric Ballroom, though technically a club, created a distinct division between audience and performer with a high elevated stage, seating at a distance, and a deafening* barricade of PA equipment flanking the performers. It was simply not very friendly to spontaneous, organic interaction.

Little Feat at the 150-seat 12th Gate in 1971,
for only ONE DOLLAR.

California's Little Feat spent a lot of time in Atlanta early on, as their longtime fans know. In January 1971 they were playing the cozy 12th Gate on 10th Street; by October 1974 they were opening for Traffic at The Omni coliseum. In between were numerous bookings at Richards and return visits to the 12th Gate.
Country rock jamband Goose Creek Symphony hailed from Arizona and Kentucky. After appearing with Bobbie Gentry on The Ed Sullivan Show, they joined Jimi Hendrix and the Allman Brothers at the 1970 Atlanta International Pop Festival. They played for free in Piedmont Park, and also became familiar from bookings at the 12th Gate, The Great Southeast Music Hall, and Richards. (Update 3/23/15: In late 1971, the band actually pulled up roots and moved to Atlanta.)

May 1973, Cactus was booked at Richards.
Johnny Winter and Gregg Allman dropped in.

Texas bluesman Johnny Winter would pop up everywhere in Atlanta. He frequently was booked in the city for concerts, but he was also one who loved to jam and would just show up in clubs unannounced. It is undeniable that altered states were part of the musical chemistry of the time. I recall Winter laid out flat on his back on the stage floor of Richards late one night playing brilliantly unbounded blues solos while sitting (or lying) in. (Might have been that week in May 1973 when Cactus–the Mike Pinera/Duane Hitchings incarnation–headlined. Gregg Allman also sat in that week.)

Charlie Daniels (right) onstage with Leonard Cohen c. 1971

Another familiar drop-in was Charlie Daniels, a Nashville fixture originally from North Carolina. By 1970 Daniels was already renown and respected for his songwriting and musicianship across multiple genres, especially country and bluegrass, working with the likes of Bob Dylan, Marty Robbins, The Youngbloods, Leonard Cohen, and many others. He stepped quite naturally into the arena of Southern Rock as it evolved. Anyone who's ever been around him knows the formidable presence of the man: a tall mountain brimming with big-heartedness. Like Johnny Winter, he would show up unexpectedly in a club to spontaneously jam, no matter the genre. The most interesting impromptu collaboration I ever witnessed was the time Daniels stepped onstage at Richards to jam with British rocker Terry Reid, who appeared as surprised as everyone else. Charlie Daniels towered over elfin Reid, and brought out his fiddle to accompany Reid's reflective folk/blues/rock from his then-new River LP that verged at times on jazz abstraction. I wish there was a photo in existence of the unlikely duo. Their strange musical mesh worked, though, and lifted the room to someplace entirely new.

Bonnie &  Delaney Bramlett with Duane Allman

Icing on the cake was the camaraderie of the musicians themselves. It was still a time when love of music prevailed and contract restrictions were much looser than today. Also key was that the time period was pre-handheld devices, pre-social media, and pre-paparazzi. There was more freedom of movement and more respect for privacy. The players showed up for each other, and late-set jams became the stuff of legend. Credit must be given to Duane Allman, too. During his time as a session player in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, he drew many musicians to Georgia, including California-based Boz Scaggs and Delaney & Bonnie Bramlett. (Even after the spouses split in 1973, Bonnie Bramlett, on her own, was booked frequently in Atlanta.) There was no shortage of talent, no matter which direction you turned.

*I permanently lost hearing in my right ear there during a Bill Bruford performance in August 1979 while taking photographs from stage right. 

Barry Manilow & Country Joe

Yes, this actually happened. In April 1974, Barry Manilow opened for Country Joe McDonald at the Great Southeast Music Hall.

Great Southeast Music Hall display ad,
The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 7, No. 14, April 8, 1974

Bill Lowery, Studio One & The Atlanta Rhythm Section

Studio One was a key locale during the 1960s-70s advent of Southern music. The production facility was enabled by the support of Bill Lowery, aka "Mr Atlanta Music." Lowery is most remembered as a prominent music publisher, but his career spanned many aspects of the industry. Born in Louisiana in 1924, he became a disc jockey while a teenager in Tennessee. In 1945, Lowery became the youngest radio station manager in the nation. While still in radio, he relocated to Atlanta, and added program host to his credits, showcasing local and regional talent. In 1951, he founded Lowery Music Company, his publishing company which achieved significant success in multiple genres of music.

Bill Lowery (right) with (L-R) Ray Stevens,
Jerry Reed, and Little Jimmy Dempsey

Lowery expanded his business to include management and recording services in addition to publishing, and named it collectively the Lowery Group. From the 1960s into the 70s, major hits were achieved by Ray Stevens, Gene Vincent, Jerry Reed, Tommy Roe, The Tams, The Classics IV, and Joe South. The Beatles covered "Mr Moonlight," one of the company's songs by Roy Lee Johnson. Billy Joe Royal, Lynn Anderson, Deep Purple, Mac Davis, and others extended the company's winning streak. The Lowery Music site provides an extensive list of affiliated artists and songs.

Studio One in the northeast Atlanta suburb of Doraville was the creation of audio engineer Rodney Mills. Bill Lowery backed the project and made Mills' vision possible, along with producer/songwriter/manager Buddy Buie and musician/songwriter J.R. Cobb. The facility opened in 1970 and attracted a diverse roster of clientele, including: Al Kooper, Mose Jones, Lynyrd Skynryd, .38 Special, Joe South, Billy Joe Royal, Bonnie Bramlett, Dickey Betts, Journey, Stillwater, B.J. Thomas, and The Outlaws. The studio's in-house musicians were former members of Dennis Yost's Classics IV [songwriter Buddy Buie and guitarist J.R. Cobb] and Roy Orbison's Candymen [singer Rodney Justo, keyboardist Dean Daughtry, and drummer Robert Nix.] Local bassist Paul Goddard and guitarist Barry Bailey also joined the crew.

The Atlanta Rhythm Section
(L-R) Dean Daughtry, Ronnie Hammond, Barry Bailey,
Paul Goddard, Robert Nix, and J.R. Cobb
"New York's fine, but it ain't Doraville."

Between sessions the studio musicians literally banded together to create their own music, and thus was born The Atlanta Rhythm Section [ARS]. They secured a record deal with MCA/Decca and released their eponymous first album in November 1971. When lead singer Rodney Justo left to pursue a solo career, Ronnie Hammond took his place. (Hammond was already onsite at Studio One as assistant engineer to Rodney Mills. He was skilled on various instruments, and it was discovered that he also had a remarkable singing voice.) It wasn't until 1973, after the release of their second LP Back Up Against The Wall, that ARS could leave the studio to tour in support of their albums. Their next record, Third Annual Pipe Dream, finally expanded their regional base, began to climb the charts, and the single "Doraville" became their first Top Forty hit.
ARS continued to record and garner extensive popular success through the rest of the 1970s. They navigated a softer pop ascension parallel and, perhaps, in contrast to the grittier, bluesier rock paths of the Allman Brothers and Lynyrd Skynryd during the same period. Like their musical brethren, the Atlanta Rhythm Section survived loss and change, and continues to tour and honor their roots.

Sources:

Bill Lowery (1924-2004), by Laura McCarty, New Georgia Encyclopedia, September 8, 2006

Atlanta Rhythm Section, www.atlantarhythmsection.com

Donnie McCormick & Eric Quincy Tate

Eric Quincy Tate was the first band I saw perform in a club when I was old enough for admission. But before ever hearing Eric Quincy Tate [EQT], I visited Donnie McCormick's Atlanta apartment on Greenwood with my cousin, his friend. Entering Donnie's home was a total immersion in artwork. Creations and found objects adorned each and every wall and surface. Central to the living room was a large wooden cable spool used as a coffee table. It was not uncommon in its use as furniture, but in Donnie's case the central spool had a few slats removed and electricity was wired into the inside space created. (I wish I'd photographed it.) The small interior was furnished as a tiny room with an overhead light. In the center was a old crone doll seated in a little rocking chair. In her lap was a miniature airplane liquor bottle. She was The Whiskey Woman.

Donnie McCormick's Greenwood Avenue apartment in Atlanta;
the undersea mural (below, right) covered all walls of a bedroom;
other two photos are living room walls. [personal photos]

Donnie commandeered the living room from an antique wooden wheelchair. Pabst Blue Ribbon was the beverage of choice. When it was time for another he wheeled into the kitchen to fetch a fresh cold one. When EQT's 1972 Capricorn Records LP Drinking Man's Friend was released, the music fit perfectly in context with Donnie's visual art. "Whiskey Woman Blues" was storytelling with an insider twist.

Eric Quincy Tate
(clockwise from bottom left) Joe Rogers, Donnie McCormick, 

Wayne "Bear" Sauls, Tommy Carlisle, David Cantonwine

A simple Google search leads to much online documentation about Donnie McCormick and Eric Quincy Tate. Capricorn Records producer Paul Hornsby said:

"Donnie was a star waiting to happen in the '70s. Eric Quincy Tate was the greatest bar band I ever heard. Donnie blew me away every time, as a drummer and as a singer."

Like too many posts, this one also closes with a passing. Donnie's health failed over a long period of time. He succumbed to chronic pulmonary disease and congestive heart failure on January 11, 2009, at age 64. He was loved by many and lived a life of art and music all his days (and nights.) The mold was broken.

Sources:
"Donnie McCormick: Soul Survivor Beats to a Different Drum," by Candice Dyer, GeorgiaMusic.org, July 29, 2005
"Donald Eugene 'Donnie' McCormick," by Holly Crenshaw, The Atlanta Constitution, January 18, 2009

Stonehenge, Mose Jones & Al Kooper

I kept crossing paths with Jimmy O'Neill over a twenty year period. The last time I saw him he was handling sound for a small independent film we were both working on in Atlanta. That was around 1994-95. Before then, while I still worked for Turner, we'd run into each other in the TBS studio. (I believe he was freelancing, probably sound engineering.) He worked on a CNN project I was art directing, a VHS series on Desert Storm, the first Gulf War (1991.) It was always a treat to see Jimmy. He was talented, funny, and unfailingly had something good to say. He excelled at many things, but first and foremost, he was a superb musician.

(L-R) Bryan Cole, Jimmy O'Neill, Randy Lewis, Clay Watkins

During 1972, I met Jimmy when he was guitarist for Stonehenge, a popular rock band originally from Florida that had moved to Atlanta in 1970. [Stonehenge lineup: Bryan Cole/drums/vocals, Jimmy O'Neill/guitar/vocals, Randy Lewis/bass/vocals, Clay Watkins/keyboards.] I first heard them play live at Funochio's. They maintained a faithful following in the city, were well-respected by their peers, and clubs were always packed when they played. Funochio's was also where producer/musician Al Kooper met the band. As covered in earlier posts, Kooper descended upon Atlanta in summer 1972, scouting bands to launch his Sounds of the South label. (He had secured a distribution deal with MCA Records.) In late July, he extended a contract offer to Lynyrd Skynyrd after his Funochio's encounter with them. During his lengthy wait for a response from Skynyrd's manager, Kooper latched on to Stonehenge during their week at the same club in August. The band changed their name to Mose Jones (in honor of Mose Allison and a family dog) and signed with Kooper, making their group the first on his new label. They were also the first into the studio (i.e., Studio One in Doraville), and theirs was the first album released on Sounds of the South. While Mose Jones was working on Get Right, that first album, keyboardist Clay Watkins left and was replaced by the band's longtime friend Steve McRay, who had just completed a tour-of-duty with the US Army in Vietnam.

Mose Jones with Al Kooper and friends, 1973
(Jimmy O'Neill, far left; Bryan Cole, center, in jacket, kneeling; 
Al Kooper fourth from right, in white jacket;
 Steve McRay, second from right; Randy Lewis, far right)

The "firsts" continued. Atlanta rock club Richards opened its doors February 1, 1973, and Mose Jones was the first band to anoint the room with live music. They opened for Elephant's Memory, John Lennon's backup band at the time. Get Right dropped in May, while Skynryd's first LP was in the pipeline for an August release. Kooper hosted his Sounds of the South launch party at Richards July 29, 1973, showcasing the two bands to radio and music industry honchos, along with the press.
Sheer luck and timing landed Lynyrd Skynyrd the opening slot on The Who's 1973 American tour. Mose Jones traveled extensively, playing gigs such as Max's Kansas City in NYC. Their second album Mose Knows was released in 1974. Large-scale success was elusive. The band's career fell into the shadow of Lynyrd Skynyrd's trajectory, and by 1975 Mose Jones splintered, then disbanded.
I had left Atlanta by the time a second incarnation of Mose Jones was formed in 1977. Randy and Steve reunited and brought in two new players. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Bryan had moved to Nashville to work as songwriters for a music publisher. They subsequently joined the Vassar Clements Band, recording and touring. Google reveals much more about the various paths of the original Mose Jones members. My own research discovered the sad passings of Randy, Jimmy, and Bryan since the turn of the century, all way too young.

IMHO:
It's sometimes hard to pinpoint why one talent soars while another falters. There are a multitude of factors. With Mose Jones, online recollections of their Sounds of the South studio sessions reflect some dissatisfaction with the experience. Al Kooper had a "product" in mind which perhaps did not reflect the true musical goals of the band. Like most stories there are two or more sides to consider. With Kooper, too, it may have been a matter of focus. He traveled on The Who tour (1973) to mix sound for Skynyrd, perhaps micromanaging while other label members fell off his personal radar. Sounds of the South signed only two other groups: Elijah, a horn band from (technically Southern) California, and Kooper's early band The Blues Project, from nowhere near the South. In 1974, Kooper moved from Atlanta and relocated to Los Angeles. After Skynyrd's second album (recorded at the Record Plant in LA) was released, Kooper's relationship with MCA began disintegrating. MCA Records ultimately absorbed Sounds of the South. It ended badly and is a story well told in Kooper's aptly titled autobiography Backstage Passes and Backstabbing Bastards. Supremely talented, visionary, and productive, Al Kooper might these days be diagnosed with ADD. Just a guess. He left an extraordinary trail of projects in midstream (e.g., The Blues Project; Blood, Sweat & Tears; Sounds of the South) some which continued to thrive, some not so much. Nevertheless, he remained a savvy businessman, always on the prowl for the next new thing, and resolute about doing things his way. No disrespect.

Sources:
Remembering Mose Jones, www.java-monkey.com
In Memoriam: Bryan Cole, by Scott Freeman, www.artsatl.com, January 11, 2013
Backstage Passes and Backstabbing Bastards, by Al Kooper, published by Billboard Books, 1998, and Backbeat Books, 2008
Mose Jones Interview with Bryan Cole, by Luc Brunot, Sweet Home Music, www.sweethomemusic.fr

The Film Forum

• 1544 Piedmont Avenue NE, Atlanta GA
• Managers: George Ellis, Michael Ellis
• Capacity: One screen, 174 seats

Take a right from Seal Place onto Monroe Drive, and it's a short ride to Ansley Mall at the intersection of Monroe and Piedmont. These days the shopping center is homogenized with the likes of Publix, Starbucks, Panera, etc. In the 1970s, it was full of unique shops, and a small, narrow theater was tucked near the middle.
The Film Forum, opened in 1971,* was loved by locals not only for its dedication to independent, obscure, and foreign films, but also for the father/son team that ran it: George and Michael Ellis. The Ellises were devoted to fans, like themselves, who appreciated movies outside the mainstream. The smell of freshly popped corn welcomed you, along with a hello from George and/or Michael. You almost always ran into other folks you knew. It was a friendly, cozy, comfortable place, like an extension of your living room.

Poster for the Film Forum,
photo of George and Michael Ellis by Joe DeCasseres,
silkscreen print by Grace Zabriskie

Manager George Ellis was known and beloved by many. As evidenced in my 1/15 post about Grace Zabriskie, he acted in Atlanta theater productions. He also worked in film and television, and was probably most recognized as "Bestoink Dooley," a character he created to host various programs, mostly movie presentations, for the Atlanta CBS affiliate.

Favorite films often played the Film Forum for weeks on end. George initiated a $1 midnight show seven nights a week. I must have seen Harold and Maude a dozen times or more. The midnight showings were profitable, perhaps even more so than their regular features.
By 1974, the Film Forum was "solidly–if not spectacularly–solvent." On November 18 that year, property owner Louis Osteen entered the theater with a locksmith, evicted the Ellises, and changed the locks on them, upending their 50/50 business arrangement which had been sealed with only a handshake (admittedly "naive" per Michael Ellis.) Osteen wanted 100% of the profits. He did not foresee the fierce backlash. The Great Speckled Bird took an immediate stand:

"This paper will carry no Film Forum ads and run no Film Forum reviews until George and Mike are back at the theatre, or safely installed somewhere else. Creative Loafing, one of our competitors, has also pulled their ad this week. Other papers, despite hard times and low ads, may join. There is talk of phone campaigns, pickets, and legal action. By this time next week, some or all of these should be underway. If you are interested in helping George and Mike, call us here at 875-8301; we'll plug you into whatever is happening... The Ellis's have given to the Atlanta community for years. Now let's help them back."

The news spread like wildfire. Loyal fans picketed and boycotted the theater. Osteen threatened to take both The Bird and the Ellises to court. Movie attendance dropped nearly 90%. Osteen closed the theater. He negotiated with the Ellises and achieved a signed contract January 7, 1975, with terms honoring their previous 50/50 verbal arrangement.
George and Michael returned to the helm of the Film Forum and the fans rejoiced. Power to the people, right on.

*The space had previously operated as the Ansley Mall Mini Cinema, which opened in 1968.

Sources:
CinemaTreasures.org
"Shutout at the Film Forum," by Jon Jacobs, The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 7 No. 48, November 28, 1974
"Film Forum Manager Ellis Fired," by Farnum Gray, The Atlanta Constitution, November 29, 1974
"BOYCOTT!... until George & Mike are back," by J.D. Cale, The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 7 No. 49, December 5, 1974
 "Film Forum / They're Back," by Jon Jacobs, The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 8 No. 2, January 9, 1975

The Marshall Tucker Band

Living on Seal Place, I spent a large amount of time at Richards around the corner on Monroe Drive. I didn't work there, but was sort of a family member, friends with many of the club's team. In retrospect, I might have driven them a bit crazy. The club was closed during the day. They kept a grand piano at the far left side of the stage, and sometimes I'd carry my stack of sheet music from the house over to practice my mediocre musical skills during the afternoon. A bit of Mozart, Bach, Debussy, mixed with lame attempts at Procol Harum. My apologies to anyone who had to listen, and thanks to those who indulged me. I digress.
Richards launched on February 1, 1973. February 12-16, Spartanburg SC's Marshall Tucker Band opened for Bo Diddley. When Marshall Tucker returned to the club for another week in mid-April, they were the headliners.

The Marshall Tucker Band in 1972;
(L-R) Toy Caldwell, George McCorkle, Jerry Eubanks, 
Doug Gray, Paul Riddle, Tommy Caldwell

My disjointed spiel about piano practice leads here: sometimes I was asked by day manager Diane to handle the phones as they attended to other business. The one call that has stuck in my head for these past decades is when I picked up the receiver and Doug Gray* was on the other end of the line. The Marshall Tucker Band's eponymous debut album had been released by Phil Walden's Capricorn Records only a couple of weeks prior. It was getting massive radio-play, particularly their first single "Can't You See," as well as "Take the Highway." Doug was positively giddy. He kept saying "I can't believe it!," "We worked so hard!," talking a mile a minute, and was simply blown away by their accelerating success. It remains one of the most insanely unbounded enthusiastic celebratory phone conversations I've ever experienced. We were all thrilled for them, and the band received a hero's welcome when they returned to Richards the next week. Beginning in June that same year, the band went on tour with the Allman Brothers. In 1974, MTB continued to tour, the album went platinum, and they earned top billing.
Fast-forward forty years, and Doug Gray is still humbly amazed at Marshall Tucker's success. In 2014, contestant Patrick Thomson performed "Can't You See" on NBC's The Voice. A contestant on American Idol also covered the song. Doug spoke with Billboard:

"When Toy Caldwell wrote that song, none of us knew that it was going to be as popular forty years later. We had no idea that any of us would make it past the weekend. So, to watch those guys do it, and all the emails and calls, was amazing."

In 1973, it was the wonderful circumstance of truly great things happening to truly good people (who realized their talents and knew the value of hard work.) In the many years since, Doug Gray has held the band together throughout its losses and changes. The Marshall Tucker Band continues to tour and retains a devoted fanbase while bringing their music to new generations. Good on them. As their friend Gregg sings, "the road goes on forever." Check out MarshallTucker.com for details on their history, evolution, discography, tour dates, and other information.

*Doug Gray was, and still is, founding member and lead singer of The Marshall Tucker Band.

Sources:
Billboard.com, Artists, The Marshall Tucker Band
Billboard.com, "Marshall Tucker Feels the Love on Both 'The Voice' and 'American Idol,'" by Chuck Dauphin, April 21, 2014

Ma Hull's Boarding House

In the early 1970s, all walks of life found their way to the covered porch at 122 Hurt Street, ready to take a seat at Ma Hull's table. Politicians, students, policemen, retirees, rock stars. They all got hungry for some Southern homecooking, and Ma Hull could cook like no one else.

Ma Hull's Boarding House
122 Hurt Street, Atlanta GA

In the early 1900s, this house, pictured above, in Atlanta's Inman Park neighborhood was known as the Candler Cottage. It had been home to Asa Candler's sister Florence Harris. (Candler was Atlanta mayor 1916-1919 and a Coca-Cola tycoon.) Mrs Vernon Daisy Grizzle Hull, aka "Ma Hull," and her husband Ross moved into the historic home around 1968 and took in boarders. Word-of-mouth about her delicious meals spread from the boarders to friends and went viral from there. People started showing up on the porch at mealtimes with mighty appetites. Food was served family-style, "pass the yams, please," and Ma Hull did not approve of leftovers. Ma [everyone called her "Ma"] would not let anyone leave the table until all the food had been consumed. I remember her threatening to spoon the rest of the banana pudding into someone's pants unless they went for seconds, even thirds. It wasn't difficult to comply, no matter how full we became. The spread included ham, ribs, roast beef, chicken, dressing, beans (string and butter), yams, greens, casseroles, cornbread, biscuits, and desserts. Oh god, the desserts: most famously her banana pudding, also various cakes and pies. We all felt like we might die by dinner's end, but it was nevertheless bliss. A recovery period relaxing on the porch or in the yard was required after every meal.

Ma Hull's dining table, 1974,
photo by Roger Allen Grigg, 
The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 7 No. 13, April 1, 1974

Ma Hull's Boarding House became a pilgrimage destination as her reputation grew. Management at midtown rock club Richards often made sure their out-of-town acts experienced meals at the boarding house. I recall tagging along with Flo and Eddie, also Sopwith Camel, with a friend from the club. Ma's stalwart fanbase grew to include touring musicians such as Little Feat (pictured below), even Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.

Little Feat, friends, and family gathered around Ma Hull (seated, holding baby.)
Lowell George, in center, stands behind her.

Ma Hull, by 1974, had cut back to serving only one meal daily at suppertime. Her health was deteriorating. She suffered from diabetes and heart disease. Born in 1909, she died in May 1979 at the age of 69. Decades later, I have yet to encounter any dining experience that comes close to the boisterous family feast Ma Hull served up for so many of us. Incomparable.

Sources:
Inman Park, by Christine V. Marr and Sharon Foster, Arcadia Publishing, 2008
The Great Speckled Bird, Vol. 7 No. 13, April 1, 1974, "A Conversation with Ma Hull," by David Dyar Massey

Discovery, Inc.

Booking agencies have always navigated the often tricky waters of coordinating artists with promoters and venues. In Atlanta's late 1960s and early 70s, there were several operations handling such business. Discovery, Inc., founded by Steve Cole in 1968, within a few years became the busiest and largest of the local agencies, at least in the rock-and-roll marketplace. Cole was part of the Atlanta music scene from which emerged the Southern Rock genre. He played a key role in mobilizing the legendary Piedmont Park free concerts (which propelled the Allman Brothers Band), and supplied clubs, colleges, and other settings throughout the Southeast with talent as required. Big name national tours, when in the region, often turned to the local talent pool for opening acts. Discovery provided.

Steve Cole (left) and promoter Alex Cooley at Piedmont Park, Atlanta GA,
photo by Carter Tomassi

From the outset, Discovery marketed the agency's presence, profile, and mission. They also promoted their bands' appearances, bolstering any advertising that club and concert promoters might provide. By 1974, Discovery handled about 20 acts. The Hampton Grease Band was with them from the beginning and, in 1970, landed a recording contract with CBS/Columbia. Discovery represented Lynyrd Skynyrd early in the band's career, also Mose Jones (formerly Stonehenge). In 1972, those two bands became label-mates for Al Kooper's Sound of the South, the first acts Kooper signed. Hydra likely logged the most road miles of any band in Atlanta back in the day, and signed with Phil Walden's Capricorn Records by early 1973. A point could be reached when range and volume of requests for a band outgrew the size of the agency. As happened with those mentioned, the time came when an agency with larger reach and capability was required. It was a good problem to have, and reflected success for both artists and agency.

Discovery, Inc., 1973 roster sample,
(click to enlarge)

In 1974, Discovery, Inc., merged with Holliday Group, another agency in the city. They retained the Discovery name and secured their standing as largest agency in Atlanta. Search results past the merger return very little information. A posting at thestripproject.com indicates that Steve Cole has since passed. Longtime Atlanta musician Darryl Rhoades wrote that Cole "understood the possibilities of the music scene way before other promoters actually acted on it. He predicted that one day bands would be playing huge venues to packed audiences." Atlanta's musical past owes much to Steve Cole.

Steve Cole, Discovery, Inc.,
photo from Billboard, May 24, 1974

Acts represented by Discovery between 1968 and 1974 include: Albatross, The American Cheese, Applejack, Armon, Atlanta Vibrations [later, Vibration], Avenue of Happiness, Axis, The Bag, Booger Band [later, just Booger], Brick Wall, Brother Bait, Buster Brown, Caliban, The Celestial Voluptuous Banana, Choice, Clear, The Coconut Confetti, The Daze After, Dear John, Dogwood, East Side Blues Band, The Electric Collage Light Show, Fifth Order, Flint, Foxes, Gingerbread, Glass Menagerie, Hampton Grease Band, Heat, Hydra, Interprize, Kudzu, Leviathan, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Micropolis, Milkweed, The Mud Child, The New Explanation, The Night Shadows featuring Little Phil, Orpheum Circuit, Pale Paradox, Papa Doc, The Peppermint Confederacy, Perpetual Motion [later, The Motion], Protrudamus, Radar, Resurrection, Rude-Frye, Russian Butt Broil, St George and the Dragonlite Show, Scald Cats, Smokestack Lightnin', The Soul-Jers, Soul Support, The Spontaneous Generation, Stillbrooke, Stonehenge [later, Mose Jones], Stump Brothers, Sweet Fire, Sweet Younguns [later, just Younguns], Traktor, Warm, and West End.

I promise I did not make up any of these names.

Sources:

"Bookers See Southern Bands Still to Be Recorded, Allman Brothers Success a Continuing Momentum," Billboard, May 24, 1974
"Inside Track," Billboard, October 26, 1974
The Great Speckled Bird, advertisements, 1968-1974

(Amazing) Grace

I met Grace when I moved to Seal Place. Her ex-husband, our landlord, lived in the other half of our duplex. Behind the duplex was a garage (or maybe just a very large shed) that had been converted into a printmaking studio. Grace lived with her daughters a few houses up the street. She used the studio for her artwork, mostly creating silkscreen/serigraphs at the time. I knew her first as a respected Atlanta artist. She generously encouraged me with my own work, even convincing me to exhibit in the Atlanta Arts Festival. (That's another story.) I later learned that Grace was also an accomplished actress and performed in many Atlanta theater productions. At that time she still used her married name, MacEachron.

Cast photo for Stereopticon, by playwright Jim Peck, which premiered August 1976
at the Studio Theater of Atlanta's Memorial Arts Center, renamed the Woodruff Arts Center in 1982.
(I'll write of George Ellis in another post, a beloved character unto himself.)

Grace moved from Atlanta to Los Angeles in 1979. She secured an agent there following her first significant role in a major film—Martin Ritts' Norma Rae—released earlier that year. (It won two Oscars: Best Actress for Sally Field and Best Original Song.) Grace also dropped her ex-husband's name and began going by Zabriskie, her mother's maiden surname.

Grace Zabriskie with David Lynch on the set of Twin Peaks;
personal Polaroid via twinpeaksarchive.blogspot.com.
She kept the robe, pictured, as a keepsake from the final episode. 

Many know Grace from her hilarious portrayal of George Costanza's potential mother-in-law on Seinfeld. David Lynch fans know her best as a member of his longtime troupe of actors, most indelibly in his groundbreaking 1990-91 television series Twin Peaks. She portrayed mentally-precarious Sarah Palmer, wife of Leland, mother of Laura. In a November 2014 interview, Grace confirmed being aboard for Lynch's 2017 reboot of the series for Showtime. In the meantime, she continues accumulating credits in different projects. I admire that throughout Grace's acting career she has continued to create her own artwork in various media. A portfolio that was mostly printmaking in the days of Seal Place has expanded to include photography, collage, sculpture, and extensive woodworking, even furniture. (Some of her creations are viewable at www.gracezabriskie.com.) 

Amazing. 

Sources:
"'Stereopticon' Offers Penetrating Insights," by Helen C. Smith, The Atlanta Constitution, August 20, 1976
"Stereopticon," by Stuart Culpepper, Atlanta Gazette, August 18, 1976
"SLIFF 2014 Interview: Actress Grace Zabriskie," by Tom Stockman, WeAreMovieGeeks.com, November 6, 2014
twinpeaksarchive.blogspot.com

Lynyrd Skynyrd & Sounds of the South

"Along come Mister Yankee Slicker, sayin', 'Maybe you're what I want.'"
-- Lynyrd Skynyrd, "Workin' for MCA," Second Helping

(follow-up to 12/31/14 post)
In Summer 1972, Al Kooper was working with his back-up band Frankie & Johnny at Studio One in Doraville, just outside Atlanta. Session-work during the day, downtown club scene at Funochio's into the night. (A fellow childhood summercamper ran the place.) First week of his visit, Boot was playing. Kooper sat in. The second week, July 17-22, a band from Jacksonville FL was booked. They were a familiar presence at Funochio's, having already played week-long gigs there in March and May that year.

Lynyrd Skynyrd at Funochio's, 1972, Atlanta GA,
view from the upstairs bar;
photo by Carter Tomassi

Kooper's initial encounter with the no-nonsense music of Lynyrd Skynyrd in the edgy, volatile* environment of Funochio's was a pivotal moment. He'd been on the prowl for "three-chord" bands to fill what he perceived as a void in the prog-rock-laden music environment of the early 70s. At the same time, he was well aware that Phil Walden was onto something, and that Walden, at the time, pretty much had a monopoly on the emerging genre of Southern Rock. In his autobiography, Kooper recalls:

"My business plan was thus: No record company but Phil Walden's Capricorn Records based in Macon, Georgia, understood that something was going on in the South. If Capricorn turned a band down, they were pretty much doomed, because no other label understood this phenomenon. I decided I would start my own label as an alternative to Capricorn and base it out of Atlanta." 

By the end of that week, Al Kooper was sitting in with Lynyrd Skynryd at the club. On Saturday night he offered them a recording deal which included him as producer. Without any commitments in place, he then managed to convince MCA Records in LA to distribute his yet-to-be-launched "Sounds of the South" label. Kooper settled into his new home in Sandy Springs, another suburb of Atlanta's sprawl. At last, Lynyrd Skynyrd's manager contacted him. Small world, their manager was none other than Alan Walden, Phil's younger brother. Capricorn had already passed on signing the band. It took a couple of months, but a deal was eventually hammered out. In the meantime, Al Kooper signed his first band for Sounds of the South: Mose Jones, a popular, well-respected, extremely talented Atlanta group. (They changed their name from Stonehenge in 1972.) Kooper had a plan:

"In my mind, stylistically speaking, Mose Jones were my Beatles, and Skynyrd were my Stones." 

Mose Jones was first in the studio, and first released. (Another post will discuss their story.) On July 29, 1973, Al Kooper hosted his Sounds of the South launch party at Richards, Atlanta's famed club-of-the-moment. The label's first two signings were showcased to radio, press, and industry honchos. Lynyrd Skynyrd's first album (Pronounced Leh-nerd Skin-nerd), produced at Studio One in Doraville, was released two weeks later on August 13, 1973. "Free Bird" was the closing track.

For Skynyrd, timing and luck intervened when Kooper ran into Pete Townshend and The Who's manager Peter Rudge at MCA. Kooper sold them on Lynyrd Skynyrd as opening act for their upcoming North American tour promoting Quadrophenia. It was a huge leap of faith for all involved, being Lynyrd Skynyrd's first experience in such enormous venues. Kooper stepped in to mix their sound in the quirky context of The Who's unusual set-up. The band and crew were fine with that, and everyone rose to the occasion. According to Kooper:

"Somehow it all fell into place, and Skynyrd began to do what no opening band for The Who had ever done–they got encores!"

Previous bookings for small venues were cancelled as the band's popularity and record sales surged. The Atlanta club scene became a receding image in Lynyrd Skynyrd's rearview mirror. The rest, as they say, is history. Enormous success was commingled with enormous tragedy, a story well-documented elsewhere. 

*Business as usual included a couple of stabbings, a couple of shootings, open drug use, rivalrous drug dealers, and drunken bad behavior of all sorts. I once witnessed a drag queen at the downstairs bar beating up a guy with a shoe.

Sources:
The Morton Report, "New Music for Old People: Rarities From the Sounds of the South Label," by Al Kooper, September 14, 2012
Backstage Passes and Backstabbing Bastards, by Al Kooper, published by Billboard Books, 1998, and Backbeat Books, 2008
Rolling Stone, 100 Greatest Artists, 95/Lynyrd Skynyrd, by Al Kooper

Moe Slotin, 1950-2001

Moe Slotin was living on Seal Place when we met. He became a good friend: supportive, generous, funny, and kind. He wrote concert reviews for The Great Speckled Bird at the time, and often took me and other friends along as sidekicks, sharing his backstage passes. Sometimes he'd quote us in his write-ups. He even had me cover a show for him once or twice. I always appreciated his trust and confidence. 
During the altered-state haze of the early 70s, Moe remained grounded, our designated driver long before the title was invented. He didn't drink or smoke, much less partake of controlled substances, and he was the first vegetarian I ever knew. I'd never even heard of brown rice until Moe introduced me to his favorite vegetarian restaurant, the Morningstar Inn, near Emory.

Moe Slotin in Underground Atlanta
sharing The Bird with the Atlanta PD,
1970 photo by Carter Tomassi

On top of Moe's writing commitments, he was part of the road crew for Hydra, one of the South's top bands of the time. Moe and Hydra's bassist Orville Davis shared the duplex on Seal Place. (I joined the household, too, and minded the fort while they were on the road.) The band toured extensively and often opened for major headliners such as Mountain, Procol Harum, and Trapeze. 

Hydra opened for Blue Oyster Cult on a leg of their 1974 tour. Moe accepted a subsequent job offer from BOC, and that was the last I saw him. A life-long mutual friend kept me updated as Moe traversed two decades in music. In addition to BOC, he went on to work with The B-52s, Patti Smith, Talking Heads, Aerosmith, and many others. An accomplished sound engineer, he settled in NYC and designed for the likes of Max's Kansas City and Madison Square Garden. 
After 20 years on the road, Moe left rock-and-roll to work as a licensed journeyman Porsche mechanic. In another abrupt career turn, he returned to school to become a physical therapist, and, no surprise, graduated top of his class. He fell in love, married, and had a child. After several years of professional practice in Manhattan, the family moved to Moe's hometown of Savannah GA, where he continued his work in physical therapy and also became an instructor for Armstrong Atlantic State University in that field. 
It was a shock to learn he was taken by cancer at age 51, especially since Moe had lived such a consciously healthy life. He positively impacted so many people in such varied arenas throughout his life. He was well-loved and is well-remembered. His parents created the Morris Slotin Memorial Scholarship for Armstrong State University. It is awarded annually to an outstanding student of physical therapy who has chosen the profession as a second career. Appropriate, especially because Moe was as outstanding as they come. 

Sources:
"The Two Worlds of Moe Slotin," by Barry J. Ostrow
Armstrong University Donor's Report, Fall 2014

The Hampton Grease Band

While compiling information for these early 70s Atlanta venues and events, a common link recurred throughout: The Hampton Grease Band. Formed in 1967, they were on the Atlanta scene before the Allman Brothers, before Lynyrd Skynyrd, before the pop festivals, before record companies came sniffing around for "Southern Rock." Various incarnations of the Hampton Grease Band [HGB] morphed over time, but its central figure remained the "Colonel," Bruce Hampton.

The Hampton Grease Band
Bruce Hampton, Glenn Phillips, Jerry Fields, Mike Holbrook, Harold Kelling

Founding member, guitarist/composer Glenn Phillips documented the eclectic history of HGB online. It's a great read. You can't make this stuff up. The band's stage performances were unpredictable, at times chaotic, always artistic (albeit Dada and surreal), ultimately entertaining, and they cultivated a dedicated following in Atlanta and beyond. Live performances were the keystone of their fanbase.

According to Phillips:

The stage was frequently filled with friends doing anything from watching TV, doing a duet with the guitar on a chain saw, or sitting at a table eating cereal. Hampton, who at one point sported a crew cut with an H shaved in the back of his head, would tape himself to the microphone stand while talking to the audience about the supposed Portuguese invasion of the U.S. through Canada. At an outdoor show, Bruce slept through our set under a truck, while at another show, he turned around in the middle of a song, jumped in the air, and kicked Mike [Holbrook, bassist] in the chest. Mike flew back into his amp, which he knocked over and short-circuited. Holbrook recalls another time when "we got the idea that we wanted to put mayonnaise all over our friend Eric Hubbler. We got a gallon of mayonnaise and Hubbler came out and sat down in a chair while the band was playing. I stuck my hand down in it and glopped it all over his head."

The Hampton Grease Band adapted to any venue, from the tiny room of the 12th Gate to fields full of hundreds of thousands at the Atlanta International Pop Festivals. They were already playing free concerts in Piedmont Park on Sundays before the Allman Brothers Band started doing the same in May 1969. Columbia Records got wind of HGB's unique act and contacted Capricorn Records chief Phil Walden to try to track them down. Long story short, Walden brokered a record deal for HGB with Columbia (CBS). Music To Eat, a double LP, was released in 1971. It notably became Columbia's 2nd worst-selling record ever. (The very worst was a yoga instructional record. Unsurprisingly, Music To Eat is now a collectors item.)

Decades later, Julian Cope's headheritage.com declares:

[W]hile the temptation is there to view the Hampton Grease Band as a possible answer to the trivia question "what is the silliest hippy-shit record ever released on a major record label?" in truth it's actually damn near a masterpiece that almost exists outside of history.

Despite their calamitous vinyl debut, HGB maintained a fiercely loyal fanbase, one of whom, Duane Allman, recommended to his friend Bill Graham that he book HGB for the Fillmore in NYC. Graham did exactly that. He perfectly paired the band with Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention the weekend of June 5-6, 1971. HGB performed brilliantly, and Fillmore East manager Kip Cohen sang the band's praises to then-CBS head Clive Davis:

Dear Clive:
As you know, this is the first time I've ever written a letter like this one to you--but even though John Lennon and Yoko Ono guested on our stage last night, my memories of the past weekend will reside exclusively with the Hampton Grease Band.
Aside from their totally delightful, unique brand of humor, and the obvious fact of their being good people, there is a musical intelligence within that band that truly excites me.
I can only hope that they enjoy the total success they deserve. They were one of the most pleasant surprises we have had on our stage in many, many months.

That was likely the high point for the Hampton Grease Band. Unfortunately, the label relationship did not survive, nor did the band. For whatever reason, CBS/Columbia dropped them. Frank Zappa's Bizarre/Straight label stepped in and signed them, but the band crumbled before a record could be completed. It all fell apart in 1973 when Bruce Hampton left for California to audition for a spot in Zappa's band. The audition was unsuccessful, and the rest of the band had gone their separate ways by his return. Years following, various configurations would resurface. Glenn Phillips tells this story best, and I'll refer you back to his site for the rest of the story.