Eat A Peach: The Album Review

A never-ending story, an ever-changing bath of light.

Duane Allman: lead guitar, slide guitar

Gregg Allman: lead vocals, piano/organ/keys, acoustic guitar

Dickey Betts: guitar

Berry Oakley: bass

Butch Trucks: drums, vibraphone, various percussion

Jaimo: drums, congas

Tom Doucette: harmonica, Jim Stanti: tambourine

Produced by Tom Dowd

Author’s Note: This post corresponds to the Eat A Peach episode of Vinyl Monday, originally posted 6/24/2024. Save for audio/editing jokes that cannot be included in a text format, this is a faithful transcript of the review chapter. To watch the full episode, scroll to the bottom of this post or visit my YouTube channel here.

“We thought about quitting because how could we go on without Duane? But then we realized: how could we stop?” – Butch Trucks

(Alan Paul, “One Way Out: The Inside Story of the Allman Brothers Band” 2014)

On October 29th, 1971, one of those brilliant rock-and-roll flames was all too soon extinguished. With Duane Allman’s passing, the art of slide guitar stalled for nearly a decade, and the very core of his Allman Brothers Band rocked.Duane was undoubtedly the fire of the band. His relentless ambition didn’t just inspire his guys. It was what put them together in the first place. He found drummer Jaimo in Macon, snagged bassist Berry Oakley from Jacksonville, plucked his brother Gregg from California. Duane and Gregg were quite close in age; they moved through life more like twins than brothers. Suddenly, Gregg is the de facto leader of their band, and he has no idea where to go or what to do.

Pictured, L-R: Jaimo, Duane Allman, Gregg Allman, Butch Trucks, Berry Oakley, and Dickey Betts for the At Fillmore East album photo shoot (1971)

But time stops for no one. After the smash success of At Fillmore East, the Allman Brothers were one of the biggest groups in America. And one of the busiest – they played some 300 gigs in 1970 alone! It was everything Duane had been working tirelessly towards for years. After a short break, the band held a meeting to decide their future. Carrying on was the guys honoring Duane’s dream. Not only did they start touring again, they headlined the freaking Carnegie Hall on Thanksgiving! Dickey Betts learned Duane’s guitar parts, Gregg learned how to introduce the songs and chat with the crowd, both learned how to lead a band together. They had a record to put out, dammit! The 5-piece Allmans cut a final 3 tracks in the newly-refurbished Criteria Studio in December. Drummer Butch Trucks plucked the album title from an interview Duane gave in the spring; where he gushed over the Layla sessions and divulged big plans for the Allman Brothers moving forward. There, miraculously, heavy on the branch after the bitter frost of death, was Eat A Peach. An album in two halves. Half-live, half-studio. Within those halves are half-with and half-without.

When asked “how are you helping the revolution?” Duane said this:

“I'm hitting a lick for peace – and every time I’m in Georgia, I eat a peach for peace. But you can't help the revolution, because there's just evolution.”

(Ellen Mandel, “The Georgia Peach” originally published in Good Times Magazine, April 1971)

Before I get into this review, I want to acknowledge the superhuman act of fortitude it took to complete this record after Duane’s passing. Grief can tear a band apart. See the other side of the Duane coin, Derek and the Dominos. They couldn’t help but splinter, as Clapton always held a candle for Duane to join full-time. He never would’ve. Duane was married to the Allman Brothers Band, more than he was to any woman or any place.

Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More was the Allman Brothers I was familiar with; the brand of country rock that classic rock radio has latched onto. Piano-driven, with some organ, and humble language to communicate how fragile life is. The “God helped me through my grief” sentiment.

“Ain’t wastin time no more, cause time goes by like hurricanes runnin after subway trains”

Sometimes the metaphors are a little...obtuse.

“Ain’t Wastin’ Time” is the “new” Allman Brothers Band introducing themselves. Gregg’s Allman Brothers Band. I can’t help but notice how crunchy his vocals sound; it’s reminiscent of an old-school blues treatment with how much he’s clipping the mic. Dickey Betts really gives it all on slide, you gotta give him some credit because he had BIG shoes to fill.

Then came Les Brers In A Minor...why aren’t we talking about this? This is fucking brilliant.

It’s no wonder this song is so beautiful. For one, it's Dickey’s goodbye to Duane. “Les breres” was his best attempt at “less brothers” in French. Les Brers, less brothers. My brother in music is gone.

Secondly, Eat A Peach was recorded by Tom Dowd. This man knew how to record guitars, see Layla. And this man knew how to record jazz. Atmosphere, dynamics, texture. For fuck’s sake, the man recorded Trane. TRANE! While researching Eat A Peach, I was shocked as to how positively hippie rock the Allman Brothers used to be. They had mushrooms on so much promotional material you’d be forgiven for mistaking the function for a Grateful Dead show. Hell, they were the southern Grateful Dead! Improvisation included. Doing a jazzy thing is a fitting tribute for Duane. He was a big jazz guy who studied Kind Of Blue for two whole years.

All of my favorite jazz recordings have what I call a morning salutation. A Love Supreme has one. Coltrane’s iconic opening flourish feels like waking up in the morning with the sun streaming in through the window. “Les Brers” has a minutes-long opening crescendo; using dynamics and the gradual layering of instruments. It’s a stop-you-in-your-tracks early-morning sunrise. It’s still chilly out and nature is waking up before you do. The cymbals are the wind, the congas are the bugs, the organ and guitars color the sky from blue to yellow to orange, then this bright red with the screaming lead. It feels like the ethereal blue and pink of the cover. It feels like blue and pink, do you understand?

Gravity pushes it down into a huge, expansive wash of noise that you truly have to hear on a stereo system to fully feel. My stereo system isn’t top of the line by any means, but boy did it treat this song well. Or maybe this song treated it well. The fucking gong? Hello?? I don’t understand why the guys didn’t like the sound of this first take in Criteria Studio C. (They moved the rest of the operation to studio A, hence the slight pitch shift. Tom had to varispeed everything to match up. Again, see “Layla.”)

Then “Les Brers” bursts into six minutes of killer melody and a Latin-tinged, bass-conga-and-keys driven, Santana-esque groove that was stuck in my head for at least 3-5 business days after writing this video. (Three months on and it’s still the greatest and most memorable melody on this album for me.) Before listening through Eat A Peach for this video, I had no idea the Allman Brothers had this side of them. “Les Brers” is a new favorite for sure.

Melissa: It’s gotta be an honor to write a song so beautiful that mothers name their daughters after it. The Allman Brothers did it twice: “Jessica” and “Melissa.”

Gregg wrote Melissa around the Allman Brothers Band’s very infancy, maybe even before. They attempted to record it a couple times, but it didn’t fit onto their other LPs. I can’t envision it on self-titled or Idlewild South either, it’s too delicate for them both. Duane loved it. So as a tribute to their brother, Gregg and the guys put it on Eat A Peach.

If you read the lyrics, Melissa isn’t about Melissa. It’s about a man who never stays in one place for too long. No one knows his name, no one knows from whence he came, he hops on train cars to go wherever they’re going. “Knowing many, loving none. Bearing sorrow, having fun.” No one’s really sure what he’s running away from, maybe he’s running from himself. “Crossroads, will you ever let him go?” I can’t help but think of blues men who may or may not have sold their souls for fortune and fame. Gregg wrote “Melissa” about a man like himself, or his brother.

But no matter where this guy runs to, he always comes back to sweet Melissa. All the places he’s been, he’s never seen a woman as beautiful as Melissa. No one has brought him the peace Melissa did. This line just drives a knife into my heart:

“There are no blankets where he lies, in all his deepest dreams, the gyspy flies with sweet Melissa.”

Even in the ephemeral beyond, wherever we go after we’re here, this man’s soul won’t be at peace until Melissa’s with him.

This is where my emotions took over, every single time. I try my best to keep my strongest emotions in their comfy little compartment while I review music, but I simply cannot with “Melissa.”

I’m a sister. We’re about the same age apart as Duane and Gregg were. “Irish twins.” I know Duane and Gregg were effectively raised as twins, hitting all their life milestones around the same time, because my sister and I did just that. Though our lives went in very different directions – she’s a schoolteacher, I’m a failed artist – I couldn’t imagine existing in this plane without her.

Brotherly love: Duane and Gregg Allman, pictured ahead of their Fillmore East gig.

The acoustic guitar is pretty, this is the piano-driven kind of stuff I like. The arrangement is roomy to let the songwriting shine. Gregg’s lyricism can be a little on-the-nose for me, this is perfect. Wherever Duane and Gregg are, I hope they’ve gotten right back to making beautiful music like no time ever passed.

Now let’s get to the pit of this peach. In terms of sequencing, Eat A Peach was an impossible question with no good answer. That’s because of the 30-something minute “Mountain Jam.” A jam on Donovan’s “There Is A Mountain” (wouldn’t you know it?) This behemoth had me racking my brain for weeks, trying to decide how I was going to cover it. See, you can cram about 25 minutes of music on one side of a record max. “Mountain Jam” is just shy of 34 minutes. So if you have Eat A Peach on vinyl, you get Mountain Jams 1 and 2. Not only did they split the song up, they stuck both halves on 2 different discs. Which is kind of unhinged of them to do. (I’ve been told this was done to accommodate those automatic record players, but this wouldn’t account for this sequencing choice remaining on the standard vinyl release today.) If you have this album on CD or stream Eat A Peach, the halves of “Mountain Jam” are reunited. For like 20 years between vinyl’s peak popularity and the rise of the CD, unless you were at the Fillmore East the night of March 13th, 1971, went through the hassle of ripping sides 2 and 4 of Eat A Peach to tape, or somehow had access to the masters, you could not hear this full “Mountain Jam.” BUT!! Those aforementioned formats have “Mountain Jam” in full as TRACK 4. After “Melissa,” before “One Way Out!”

Do you understand how many layers there were to my dilemma?? Vinyl Monday is a show about the physical format, but I HAVE to acknowledge that, because of the limitations of this format, I do not have the fullest picture of this song. HOWEVER, I have the fullest picture of how the album was originally intended! TOM DOWD WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME PERSONALLY??

Mountain Jam 1 is the first 20-ish minutes; ending just after Butch and Jaimo’s dueling drums. Might I say that, between this and Gabor Szabo’s “Ferris Wheel,” Donovan songs have a fantastic track record for translating into instrumentals.

The beginning has that same beautiful jazzy freeness as “Les Brers”; but with more of a Grateful Dead twinge. Intricate woven guitars, sparse keys, jazzy frenetic drums. Each instrument is independent from the other, but they’re so locked in you don’t even notice it takes Berry a full two minutes to start playing. That’s one thing you can’t buy or fake as a band: chemistry. “Mountain Jam” moves organically, which you only can do if you’re seasoned and you know each other as players. There’s a lot of trial and error on this thing, coming from being comfortable enough to fuck up. See Duane really trying to change the key 3 minutes in but the guys just won’t take the bait! Sometimes you hit a dead end, have to turn around. Dickey did it like 4times in his solo, Duane saves him by jumping in. The tradeoffs between solos are so smooth. The handoffbetween Duane and Gregg is astonishingly so. Gregg’s doing some Rick Wakeman/Keith Emerson shit? Which I did not expect?

That being said: while I like jam-based stuff, I don’t always like jams. About the longest I can stand is “Do What You Like.” If not for the rhythm section, “Mountain Jam” would get tedious fast. You have Butch in one ear, Jaimo in the other, Berry somewhere in there, all filling in each others gaps for this lush, big, energetic rhythm beast thing. I have to give some love to a bass solo. Berry’s first, with this gorgeous chromatic noodling, is hidden amongst the bird call guitar Duane could do.

Not every group can pull off an extended drum break. This one does get lost at times. But again, that’s part of jamming. Jaimo could play so fast, people didn’t know if he was a good player or a shit one! I sense he’s the one really pushing and pulling the tempo through this duel. Someone stumbles and misses a beat around the 14-minute mark. It’s authentic, and really interesting to listen to if you geek out over his stuff like I do. It’s rare and special that two drummers get to hop on kits and interact this way on a stage

And then disc 1 ends...in the middle of Berry’s solo?? You couldn’t have cut this side off after the drums? That’s – okay. Moving on.

Disc 1 ends and we hop into something much more my live recording speed: Sonny Boy Williamson’s One Way Out. The recording heard on Eat A Peach was harvested from the Fillmore East’s last night in operation. This "One Way Out" is one of my favorite things the Allman Brothers ever did.

For one, the drums add so much flavor! They switch back and forth from harmonic to playing a straight rhythm. This is Gregg’s shining moment as frontman, he sells this song. Probably because he lived it once or twice, this man had woman problems. He’s the Henry VIII of rock-and-roll without all the executing and banishing and dying. The man was married SEVEN TIMES. At what point do you just give up??

I’ve given so much love to Duane, but this is the solo that made me appreciate Dickey Betts. This thing just oozes charisma with a vibrato to rival Clapton’s. It’s my personal favorite guitar solo on the record. To reference something La La Brooks said about Ronnie Spector, I’m convinced Duane Allman was so () he could’ve had chemistry playing with a pineapple. It helps that he played with Dickey Betts. Both could challenge the hell out of even the most seasoned players. Not to be too on-the-nose, but Duane and Dickey truly had the brotherly feel as players. A friendly competition not unlike sibling rivalry. The call-and-response bit feels like playful mocking, the wiley weaving like singing along to the radio on a beer run.

Trouble No More is the bread-and-butter of Eat A Peach. Simple, easy motif, pretty obvious places for flourishes and solos to go, GREAT groove. Gregg’s keys play both sides of rhythm and lead, and this is one of the sassiest licks I’ve heard since Jimi’s “Still Raining Still Dreaming.”

In case I already haven’t laid it out: what set Duane apart? Phrasing, note choice, and control of tone. Slide can sound sickly and awful if you don’t have solid control. It’s not about volume, it’s about touch.

The title of our next song comes from this line: “If I ever see that woman walking down the street, I’ll just stand back and try to move away slowly” Clearly Gregg couldn’t heed his own advice! The man was married 7 times! “Stand Back” has a bossy swaggering drive to it, a smoky saloon feel. It’s a platform for Gregg’s ladies man schtick to build on; singing about getting burned by a chick he just can’t quit.

Blue Sky was my old old favorite song off Eat A Peach. Between this and “Les Brers,” Dickey had range. “Blue Sky” is in-line with the southern rock one pictures the genre to be. “Les Brers” is absolutely not. Yet I really like both. Blue Sky is so breezy and almost California-carefree. The lyrics are just as cheery, about simple joys in life like being guided by nature. Dickey and Duane reflect this; their interplay is almost bird-like. It’s all about returning home to the one you love, “You’re my blue sky, you’re my sunny day.” There’s even some steel guitar buried in there! I really thought this would’ve been the B-side that later received A-side treatment, like “Melissa” did. I know radio doesn’t always play nice with extended instrumental breaks (stares in “Layla”) but Blue Sky could’ve done well. It’s just grounded enough to resonate with a pop audience.

Because of the “Mountain Jam” conundrum, Little Martha becomes the closer on new versions of Eat A Peach.This thing is just not a closer, and was never meant to be.

According to Dickey in Rolling Stone’s review of the album,“Duane and I always talked about doing part of the set acoustic. But somehow we just never got around to it…”

This is the most sonically intimate tune on the record; just Dickey and Duane. It feels like we walked out on the porch and they were already there, chilling with their acoustics. They play a pretty motif in a sometimes-classical style, indicative of their technical prowess. Generally, it’s casual and easy. No frills, no fuss.

Closing out my album is the back half-ish (it’s about 15 minutes) of “Mountain Jam” 2. Man, Berry got the short end of the stick by having his bass solo split up. Just shifting that cut a minute or so ahead would makehis solo sound a whole lot more grounded; he changes tempo and key a LOT in a matter of minutes.

“Mountain Jam” as a whole suffers from this format. With these super-extendo jams, you really have to experience them in the moment to feel the full power. I get annoyed that there’s like four endings to this song. But we get a taste of the live show as the album closes, with Duane shouts out each player over the thunderous applause.

The Eat A Peach cover, designed by David Powell, was meant to be the sky at dawn. But, because of my geographic location, I interpreted it as dusk. In my native New England, I’ve only ever seen these pinks and blues at dusk. Eat A Peach is both sunrise and sunset. Not unlike the cycle of life and death, this record is a never-ending circle. A Mobius strip of the story of the Allman Brothers Band. It ends as sunset of the Allman Brothers, the last blazing light of the Skydog. It begins with the sun rising on the new ABB; with Gregg and Dickey at the helm. It’s the pit of the peach; sweet, but definitely rocky. These guys may not be blood brothers, but they’re brothers in music and that’s pretty damn close. Whether you see it as sunrise or sunset, Eat A Peach is a never-ending story, and an ever-changing bath of light.

Personal favorites: “Les Brers In A Minor,” “Melissa,” “One Way Out,” “Blue Sky”

– AD ☆

Watch the full episode above!