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Rip It Up, Issue 38, 1 September 1980, Page 7

The Legend Continues one day in 1968, as Walden was sitting in wun tl one day in 1968, as Walden was sitting in his office, he got a phone call from Rick , Hall, founder of the legendary Fame Studios, in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Wilson Pickett had just cut a new single for him, Hall said, a disc so fine that Phil just had to hear it right there, over the phone. Hall was right: “Hey Jude’ was going to be a beast. But what interested Walden more was the sound of the lead guitarist playing with Pickett. "Who’s playing the damn guitar?” he asked excitedly. “Oh, him? replied Hall. "Pretty good, isn’t he? Studio | musician. Name’s Duane Allman. Keep • him there,” Walden ordered. “I’m getting | on a plane.’.’ M liWi ■ af IMost EVERYBODY IN the music business knew Duane Allman: with all the acts he was backing up, it was hard not to. The trouble was figuring him. To {look at him, peering out from those long, [stringy brown locks of his, a fella d think, “Here is the geek of geeks.” then he'd talk, cool, confident like, with just a hint of t {that North Florida drawl, and right awayj you knew that when it came to music, 1 this cat was solid. Then he’d play, and you d start scratching your head all over again, because there wasn't any way to describe that sound. A little bit of blues, a little bit of bluegrass, a little bit of country, a little bit of boogiewhat was it? Nothing they'd ever heard of before up North, that was 1 for sure. It was down-home. It was South. | And the reason no one could figure it was Reach For The Sky Sky „lived in Duane Allman’s head. Well, that’s what Phil Walden was going to change. Get ready, he told Duane. Go home get yourself a band. You got a baby brother, Gregg, with a nice bluesy voice? That’s fine too. But don’t just stand there, man. Move. With Phil Walden behind you, boy, the South’s gonna rise again. And hellfire if it didn’t work. Oh, it was slow, but Phil was ready for that. When you came from that place and spoke in that voice, vou were used to trying three times as hard to get the Yankees to listen to you. Phil'd been through it all before, all the scratchin’ and scrappin’ and "Yessuh, Mr. i Man, ” and if that’s what it took, if he had to I have his boys go barefoot in Carnegie Hall | i and leave the S3OO suits at home, if that | | was what they expected from his kind, > i chasin’ women and drinkin likker and rai- . sin’ hell, well, he’d do it, even if he had to , “out-limousine those folks to death, 'cause when Phil Walden was on the move, j weren’t nothin’ gonna stop him. And with Duane, man, he was movin’. So off they started, gradual, sure, but gaining ground. The little bitty clubs at first, then bigger and bigger, and before you could let out a “Yaaahoooh, they were in New York, the enemy camp itself, playing for Ahmet Ertegun, resident wizard at Atlantic Records. They were good Ahmet admitted, too good. "The kids will never understand them," he told Walden. Forget it. Go to the Coast. There they’d make real money. But Phil ignored him. When he was on to something good, Phil Walden was one persistent son of a bitch. And all at once, bam. it happened: one —U« at __ Reach For Ifh.. Iraan 4L;} The new Album from: The Allman Brothers Band With the “Angeline” that it lived in Duane Allman’s head. Well, that’s what Phil Walden was going to change. Get ready, he told Duane. Go home, get yourself a band. You got a baby brother, Gregg, with a nice bluesy voice? That’s fine too. But don’t just stand there, man. Move. With Phil Walden behind you, boy’the South’s gonna rise again. And hellfire if it didn’t work. Oh, it was slow, but Phil was ready for that. When you came from that place and spoke in that voice, you were used to trying three times as hard to get the Yankees to listen to you. Phil’d been through it all before,-, 4T,the scratchin’ and scrappin’ and “Yessuh. Mn. Man, ” and if that’s what it took, if he had to have his boys go barefoot in Carnegie Hall and leave the S3OO suits at home, if that was . what they expected from his kind, chasin’ women and drinkin likker and raisin’ hell, well, he’d do it, even if he had to U’out-limousinelthose folks to death, ’cause when Phil Walden was on the move, weren’t nothin’ gonna stop him. And with Duane, man, he was movin’. ' So'off they, started, gradual, sure, but gaining ground. The little bitty clubs at first, then bigger and bigger, and before fyou could let out a “ Yaaahoooh, they were in New,York; the enemy camp itself, 1 play : ing for Ahmet Ertegun, resident wizard at Atlantic Records. They were good, .Ahmet admitted, too good. “The kidswill never understand them,” he told Walden. Forget it. 1 Go to the Coast. .There they d make real money. But Phil ignored him. I When he was on to something good, : Phil Walden was one persistent son of a bitcK »Aad «B happened: one niSUMHiiiSlfi \vv T neSky TheBand w , m.: m i § AL 9535 Also Available On Cassette