Saturday, April 20, 2013

The Rocket Summer and Joe Brooks at Stubbs Barbecue in Austin, April 2013




I love going to see relatively unknown bands like The Rocket Summer and Joe Brooks in small clubs like Stubbs in Austin for the same reason I love to go to college sporting events—the performers genuinely love what they’re doing and their enthusiasm is contagious. That was evident before the first downbeat of The Rocket Summer’s part of the show when Bryce Avary, who basically is The Rocket Summer, took the stage. The smile on his face, the heartfelt gratitude he displayed before he played a single note was too sincere to fake. He was happy to be there. You can’t pay someone enough money to generate that kind of vibe but for people like him and Joe Brooks, the middle act, it just seeps out of them. Once a band gets some money and notoriety, they become more seasoned and professional, but they lose some of the charm that got them there to begin with. It’s refreshing to see the semi-pros suit up and take the field. 

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Danger—Stop the Show!

I got on my bicycle today for the first time in a long time and it felt good. Between my heavy travel schedule and my work load, I rarely get a chance to get out on the road. It’s been a busy year. So far I’ve taught classes or workshops in South Carolina, Ohio, Toronto, Boston, Chicago, Perth, Adelaide, Melbourne, Canberra, Sydney, and Brisbane, as well at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts in Greensboro, North Carolina.

All this travel reminds me of the time that I was the editor of PLSN and I used to go out on tour at the same time. On the road, I would wake up before anyone else on the bus and sit in the lounge editing articles, answering email, and putting out fires until load-in at 8:00AM. If I had a spare moment or two during the day or during lunch I would fire up the laptop and do what little work I could. And then after the rig was up, everything was working and all the lights were focused, I would do as much as I could before and after sound check. As soon as the show was over and we finished load out, I would be back on the bus working into the early morning hours while we drove to the next show. Most days I would work in my bunk as long as I could before I fell asleep and then wake up early in the morning before anyone else and start all over again. It was hard.

Why did I do it?

Because there’s no substitute for hands-on learning and I feel that if you want to write about the industry, you should experience it. My publisher never liked it when I was on the road. He preferred that I sat at my computer all day and focused strictly on the magazine, but I think he knew that, ultimately, it was good for the content of the magazine. My work in the field informed my writing and my writing informed my work in the field.

You get a completely different perspective working on the road than working from an office. It’s hard to imagine the pressure you feel to make sure the show goes off without a hitch when you’re sitting in the comfort of an office. But when you’ve got gear that’s not working right, or that’s working but poses a hazard, and it’s almost time for sound check or it’s almost time for doors, that’s when you really earn your stripes. No one wants to be that guy who couldn’t get the full rig up and working properly.

In our industry, we have a culture of pushing through sleep deprivation, illness, difficult working conditions, and other obstacles to make sure the performance is flawless. After all, the show must go on! But there are times when the show must not go on, and that’s when there is imminent danger.

Imminent danger is when there is an immediate situation that poses the threat of death or serious harm. When we recognize that there is imminent danger, it’s not only your right to do something about it, it’s your responsibility as a trained professional. The proper thing to do is to bring it to the attention of your supervisor or the venue, and if immediate action is not taken, then you should escalate it as high as you can before notifying the proper authorities. In the United States, the authority is the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) and in Canada it’s the Occupational Health and Safety (OHS). Every country has a similar authority.

Had someone recognized the imminent danger of the approaching storm at the Indiana State Fair in 2011 and taken action, then Nathan Byrd and those six other victims might be alive today. The same can be said of many other accidents in our industry.

It takes a huge amount of courage to make that call. When a show is halted, someone is going to lose a lot of money. Still, we have to be willing to draw that line in the sand and say, “This is the line which we will not cross.” We need to understand the hazards and we need to stick to our guns, and if we’re going to err, then we should err on the safe side. I would rather be known as the guy who stopped the show because I thought it was dangerous but it wasn’t than the one who didn’t stop the show and caused people to be harmed.

One of the main reasons for training is to learn to recognize hazards on the stage. If we know what to look for then we’ll be better prepared to make those kinds of calls with confidence. And sometimes, understanding what constitutes a hazard and what doesn’t can allow the show to go on, even though the conditions might not be perfect.

I once worked a show like that. I won’t say who the band was, but they were some boys who used to like to hang out on the beach and go surfing in the U.S.A. In the morning, we floated the truss and hung all the lights, and before we flew the truss, we tested the circuits and all the lights. There were a few with bad lamps, so we promptly replaced them. But the two PARs that were lighting up downstage center—the two most important of them all—had bad wiring. Since they were six-lamp bars, it would have taken too long to swap places with another one that was working properly. So we took some new ceramics and wired them in. The problem was that we had no way of connecting the grounding conductor (earthing conductor for some of you) from the power cable to the housing of the fixture, so they effectively had no ground.

OSHA keeps a database of workplace accidents on their web site. If you go to osha.gov and type “electrocution” in the search box, you’ll get a long list of hits. Look at those incidents of electrocution and what you’ll find is that they generally fall into two categories: electrocution by overhead power line and electrocution by faulty ground (or earth). Those seem to be the two most common causes of death by electrical on the job, so having a proper ground is a huge deal.

As an ETCP Certified Entertainment Electrician (etcp.plasa.org), I was very aware of the hazard, yet I certainly didn’t want to stop the show. But since I understand how grounding and bonding works, I knew that by clamping the ungrounded PAR can to the grounded truss, the aluminum housing would then be grounded through the yoke and clamp which is connected to the truss. The show could go on!

These are the types of lessons you learn from the road. But experience doesn’t always teach the right lessons. The combination of training and experience is the best educator.  There is nothing better.

The Academy of Production Technology (www.APTXL.com) hosts training and workshops around the world for individuals, groups, companies, and organizations. The next public workshop will be held in June 2013 in Burbank, California. To inquire about training, visit the web site or click here.

Origin Magazine: Devon Allman Interview

Here's the full interview:


Devon Allman: Royalty Meets Brotherhood
by Richard Cadena
10/04/2012

He has the DNA of rock and roll royalty, but the upbringing of a middle-class suburbanite. Devon Allman was raised by his single mother, Shelley, and until he was 17 years old, his famous father was nothing more than an old 5”x7” framed photograph that he kept on his dresser. But there’s no mistaking his genetics. Although his looks favor his uncle Duane, his soulful voice is more reminiscent of his father Greg Allman. Yet Devon is decidedly his own brand, part blazing vocals, part songwriter/story-teller, and part stinging guitar licks.

Devon now lives in St. Louis, where, a few years ago, he assembled a band called Devon Allman’s Honeytribe before joining Cyril Neville of the Neville Brothers and Mike Zito in a project called Royal Southern Brotherhood. RSB released the album, Royal Southern Brotherhood in May 2012 and have been touring almost non-stop ever since. Devon also has a solo album coming out in February 2013, which was produced by the legendary Jim Gaines (Stevie Ray Vaughn, Santana, John Lee Hooker, Buddy Guy, Herbie Hancock, et al.).

Just before leaving for the European leg of the RSB tour in October, we had the opportunity to glimpse into the heart and soul of the singer, artist, and would-be poet.

You’ve had a busy year. Royal Southern Brotherhood, the band with you, Cyril Neville, Mike Zito, and Yonrico Scott, released the album Royal Southern Brotherhood in May and you’ve been touring like a mad man ever since.

Man, it was a long tour. We’re still in the middle of it. The American portion is over and we’re going over the Europe in about a week and a half. It’s been really interesting. As a band, we’re not trying to re-invent the wheel, but to kind of keep it rolling. We’re trying to keep the real stuff rolling. It’s an interesting time to break a band, in this day and age.

This is a collaborative effort. Are you writing songs together?

There are some that were brought in individually and then there were some that were co-writes; it really depends on the track. But it’s totally a group effort.

It’s very southern, very rhythm-and-blues, very soulful...it’s kind of everything mixed together. Did everyone bring a different point of view and different influences?

Yeah, there clearly is this Texas rock, and country, and blues, R&B, reggae, and funk. There’s a little bit of everything. It really is kind of a mixture. But it’s all tied together by everybody’s individual voicing.

It blends really well.

Definitely. It works.

You brought up an interesting point. You mentioned Texas rock. You grew up in Corpus Christi, Texas, but you moved away when you were young. How old were you?

I moved away when right before I was 11, but I came back every single summer until I was 20. And it wouldn’t be for just a few days, I’d come back for about a month at a time. I really felt like most of my childhood was there, even though I had moved away to another state. So I’m pretty in touch with that whole early ZZ Top thing, and Mike Zito, the other guitar player in the band is definitely in touch with that. It’s just in there as much as anything else.

Now you live in St. Louis. How does that inform your art?

St. Louis has a really rich history, musically. Miles Davis is from here, and Tina Turner, Chuck Berry...There’s always been someone coming out of St. Louis. It’s got a really vibrant blues scene. It may be tapering off a bit, but they’ve always been known for it. There’s a neighborhood downtown called Soulard (pronounced Soo’-lard). It’s eight or ten square blocks and there’s probably 20 blues clubs down there. You can walk through the doors of any one of them and see the blues. It’s cool to come home and go check out music. That’s always going on. I would think that Memphis and New Orleans are a little bit even more so, but St. Louis, being a river city and having a history, you know, it finds its way into the music.

You mentioned Miles Davis. That’s interesting, because I hear some jazz influence in your music at times, and of course there’s the rock and R&B. Is that something you strive for, or does it just happen?

Well, I think that if you’re a cat like Cyril Neville, or like me, you wake up and you have your coffee, and you put on some Miles Davis, you put on some Bob Marley, or you put on some Clapton, or you put on some Santana, you’re gonna end up with a band that sounds like all those cats, you know? That’s just what we love, so I think, by osmosis...you throw it in the well, and then you come and pull it back out of the well. And that’s why I said we’re really not re-inventing the wheel, but we’re trying to kinda keep that wheel rolling.

Also, on the last Devon Allman’s Honeytribe album, Space Age Blues, which came out late in 2010, you brought in Ron Holloway to play sax. Were you looking for a more jazzy sound?

Yeah, I really feel like it took the rock music up a notch on the sophistication. The songs were screaming for it, and I was always a fan of saxophone, and then Ron Holloway just became a dear friend of mine. He’s played with Dizzy Gillespie, and Gov’t Mule, and Warren Haynes, so he added another element, another kind of dimension to that music. I just had him play on my first solo record too.

I just read that early on, you were influenced by The Beatles and KISS. KISS is a very theatrical band, and I think you were also involved in theatre in high school, right?

I was.

Does any of that feed into your music?

I don’t know. There’s kind of two schools of thought when it comes to performance. There’s stand-in-one-place and make your notes do all the movement, and make them be powerful, and...stand there. [laughs] And the other one is, go friggin’ nuts and put on a show. I try to temper right in between that. You know, you don’t want it to be The Village People, but you don’t want it to be these cats that are just toe-gazers, that literally look at their toes during the entire performance. I think there’s a time for being austere and then there’s a time for being pretty exuberant and pretty vibrant, in people’s faces.

I’ve seen your shows, and you definitely feel the music. It looks like you’re really pulling from deep within.

Definitely.

And you’re not formally trained; you’re self-taught, right?

I am. I’m just trying to tap that well, that well that I’ve tapped listening to music, and enjoyed it. I try to tap it to give it back to people. Sometimes it comes from a real fun place, sometimes it comes from a real sad place or a lonely place, but those are all the emotions that end up making the palette that you dip your paint brush in.

Your palette comes from a relatively suburban upbringing, did it not?

Yeah, anybody can live in the suburbs or in a great house, or any of that, but I lived without a father for a long time. And no amount of easy living, or however you want to call it, is going to replace that. We go through life, and we’re going to tap into those things that affected us. Obviously, in adulthood, it’s a different day-to-day living, but as an artist, you are going to go back and revisit that stuff and tap into it.

Are you a spiritual person?

Absolutely. One thousand percent.

How does that manifest itself?

Well, it’s gotta be through relationships, it’s gotta be through music, it’s gotta be through just literally walking and going, ‘Wow, I really feel connected to the universe today.’ That may sound a little corny to some, but...You know, it took me a while to really figure out the difference between religion and spirituality. That line between them was always real blurry and I never really figured that out. And actually, I heard someone define it. They were saying that religion is a group of people’s connection to a higher power, and spirituality is an individual’s connection with a higher power. And since monotheistic religions really kinda give me the creeps, I really related to spirituality. I really related to the tenants of Buddhism, because that’s not a religion either; that’s a mindset. So I started kinda digging deeper and deeper. The religion thing, it really bums me out because the structure of them is 100% to benefit that religion. And that’s kind of a shame. It’s a shame that they’re so narrow-minded, you know... ‘It’s the only answer, it’s the only way. Everything else is wrong.’ And that’s why I said the monotheistic religions just seem like a big shut door to me. It doesn’t seem open. The spiritual world, the universe seems wide-ass open. [laughs] And I think that’s how I would rather live my life and teach my child.

Speaking of your child, Orion, how old is he?

He’s going to be a teenager in a few months. It’s insane.

How did your life change when you had a kid?

I just remember crying like a grandma, you know? I just had never felt...I never knew that I had the capacity to feel that much joy and love at one time. I was completely overwhelmed—totally overwhelmed. And then you freak out, and you go chasing after them, and they’re everything to you. You’re freaking out on their every move. Then years go by, and you share a lot of laughs, and great vacations, and all of a sudden, boom, they’re like the most interesting people in your life. And they’re people now, not just these little babies. It’s been quite a trip—fatherhood. It’s been the best thing in my life.

You mentioned your father. How’s your relationship with him?

Man, it’s really good, you know? It was non-existence ‘til I was 17. But now, it’s really good. He’s in a really good place, I think he’s been through the shit enough to kinda wave the white flag and go, ‘Alright, I’m really lucky to be here, so I need to get my shit together.’ And with that clarity, it always brings us tighter. I don’t judge him. It’s not my place to judge him, or anyone else. He’s a human being on this planet. He’s on his own path. So I don’t judge him or get mad at him or whatever for his past, or his drug involvement back in the day. I just want him to be healthy and happy. I told him that about a year ago. You know, as I got into my thirties, I realized that my list of desires has truly diminished. As I get older, I just want to be happy and healthy. And that’s all I want for the people that I love. I want everybody to be happy and healthy. That’s it. I don’t want you to be rich, I don’t want you to be successful, I don’t give a shit about you climbing the ladder at your job. At the end of the day, if you’re happy, if you’re smiling, if you’re healthy, if you’re not going to the hospital to have treatment done to you, then that is a rich life.

Speaking of good health, you’ve been exercising, right?

It’s always so come-and-go with me. I swear, it’s so come-and-go with me because of the touring and stuff. I can get into this mad cycle of running, and I’ll run two or three miles a day, play basketball or lift weights, and then I’ll go through this mad cycle of doing nothing. I happen to be in the running cycle right now, and I feel great. I’m getting in shape. I just gotta make it stick. That’s the hardest thing about my lifestyle, going from  cruising all over the world and then coming home... And I’m just as busy when I’m home. I’m catching up on everything here, with my son, and personal matters. I never really sit still. But I need to get into that thing to where I’m just daily hittin’ it.

Let’s get back to the music a bit. Your music has a range of influences. You’re rooted in rock, R&B, and the blues. Does it have to come from a certain place to be authentic?

I think you have to go through some hurt. You may be able to come out and have the ability to kind of sound authentic, but it’s not going to really go until you’ve been through some pain. A really good example is, I remember seeing Derek Trucks when he was a little kid. We’re talking about a two- or three-time Grammy winner now, and (he’s on) the hundred best guitarists list, you know, this guy. Well, I think I saw him when he was like, 12. And everybody was like, ‘Holy shit!’ and freakin’ out. And I remember leaning over to one of my buddies, saying, ‘Yeah, he’s a badass, blah, blah, blah, and he can really play good, you know, cool and kitchy that he’s 12.’ I said, ‘I ain’t takin’ nothing away from him.’ In fact, I’m paying him the highest compliment because I said, ‘Man, you wait ‘til he has children. You wait ‘til, like, he loses his grandfather. You wait until he goes through the shit in life that we have to go through, because all of a sudden, all those cool notes he can play are going to have depth.’  I said, ‘When Derek Trucks is thirty, look the fuck out. He’s going to be the monster of all monsters on this planet.’ And sure as shit, that’s exactly what happened. So that’s a really good example of, like, you can have it, but you’re still going to have to go through some hurt, or some joy—extreme hurt or extreme joy, you know, these emotional rides that we’re on, to really, really define it.

You play the guitar and you sing. Do you consider yourself a guitarist first or a singer first?

Damn, I don’t know. [laughs] I don’t know. I started off singing and playing rhythm guitar. I didn’t start playing lead guitar until I was 32. I was scared to death of anything past the seventh fret. And I had a guitar player quit, and I was, like, ‘Damn.’ At that point, I think I played one lead in the show. And I said, ‘Well, I can replace him, or I could just play every single lead. I was, like, ‘Damn, these leads are all going to sound the same.’ And I challenged myself; I gave myself six months, and I started really practicing behind the scenes. And I said, ‘In six months, if I’m playing all these different solos and doing them well, then screw it, I’m never getting another guitarist again. And if I’m not, then I’ll admit it to myself and hire one.’ And I felt like I grew enough. I was really glad he left. Because of him leaving, it turned me into a lead guitarist. Yeah, truly, because I would have never done it. I don’t think I would have ever had the balls. I was always a singer, and a rhythm player.

You write great songs too. Are you a poet?

You know that my name translates into...Devon apparently translates into and means ‘the poet?’ It’s really trippy. Uhmm, I don’t know. It’s really not my place to judge my own stuff. I think that I dig some poetry and that I could write some. If my lyrics are, I don’t know.

Are you a philosopher?

I think for sure. [chuckles] And it’s really an idealogical place, you know. It’s nothing fancy. It’s like, ‘Why don’t we just get along and stop killing people and start feeding people, and turn the page here?’ It really doesn’t get much deeper than that.

That’s a great philosophy. Are you a reader? Do you read a lot of books?

Voracious. Voracious reader. I’m always reading. Always, always.

Any particular genre?

I love travel narratives—absolutely love ‘em. I love seeing the world through different people’s eyes. Astrophysics is a big thing—love it. Bios—any kind of bios, you know, world leaders, to musicians, to whomever. You know, it’s funny, I almost feel guilty when I read fiction. And that’s so weird, but it’s like, if I’m going to spend time reading, I want to learn a true story, or learn about a person... I feel like I’m wasting my time with fiction, and that’s so wrong because there’s a pretty rich tapestry out there to be discovered. I don’t count the classics in that. I do like the classics.

You’re working on a solo album now, right?

It’s done! It’s in the can. It comes out February 12th in Europe and America, and I think Japan. It’s called Turquoise.

Who’s on it? Is it people you’ve played with before or is it new people?

It’s Derek Trucks’ drummer of 15 years and the drummer for Royal Southern Brotherhood, Yonrico Scott. He plays all the drums and all the percussion. And then I’ve got some guests on there. I’ve got Luther Dickinson from The Black Crows playing some slide guitar. He’s just a badass. He’s had his own band, North Mississippi Allstars, for about 15 years. Ron Holloway is a guest again on saxophone, and there’s this great band out of Memphis called Lucero—really badass. Their keyboard player came and played (Hammond) B3 organ. And then I re-did the Tom Petty/Stevie Nicks classic, Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around with last year’s Blues Music Awards winner for best new artist, Samantha Fish. And it’s cool. It’s a little bit slower, a little grittier version, and it was a lot of fun to do.

Other than that, did you write the music?

Yeah, I did. I’ve got a couple co-writes on there. I co-wrote a couple with Mike Zito from Royal’, and co-wrote one with Tyler Stokes of the band Delta Sol Revival. He’s probably about 19 and he’s a really, really amazing talent. I’m actually producing his record next spring. So there’s a couple co-writes here and there, but for the most part it was my deal.

Are you happy with it?

I’m really happy with it. It’s the record I always wanted to make. I mean, I was always in charge of the Honeytribe records, I even produced one of them, and I wrote everything on them. But at the end of the day, I was writing that to be within the framework of what I thought Honeytribe was. There’s no framework with this record. It’s kinda wide open. It felt really good.

Wide open like the universe! But it’s a different style than Honeytribe?

Yeah, um, you know, it’s crazy because Honeytribe is aggressive, and Honeytribe had distorted guitars. It was very ‘rocky.’ This doesn’t have one distorted guitar on it. It doesn’t have one aggressive song on it. It’s like, I finally grew up. [laughs] And, instead of really wanting to produce this record, and all that, I got one of the best producers in the world to produce it.

Who’s that?

Jim Gaines. He produced Santana, he produced Huey Lewis and the News’ big records,  he’s a song guy and a guitar guy. He’s in the twilight of his career, but I think that, so many times when people are in their twilight, they’re at their best. This is some of the last stuff that they will do, and I feel so honored that I did a record with him.

I can’t wait to hear it.

Hell yeah, he did Stevie Ray Vaughn! I think it was In Step. Yeah, that’s the one where they had to put him in a chicken coop to stop all the humming and all the noise from the amplifiers.

One last thing before I let you go. A couple of years ago, I had dinner with George Massenburg, the inventor of the parametric EQ. We were talking about music and art, and he posed a question that, to this day, I still can’t answer, and it’s a question that’s been on my mind ever since. So I’m going to ask you. What do you think people will be listening to 1000 years from now?

Oh man. You know, that’s an excellent question. I think the obvious is, there are still going to be people listening to Beethoven and Mozart, because, if we’re listening to that stuff now, you know, if it’s lasted this long... So I think his question is more angled at, for the music that was produced in the 20th century, meaning modern-day music, from jazz in the ‘20s, to blues, all the way to this very second, what will have lasted? That’s an incredible question. I think the big ones. I think The Beatles, I think The Beatles will make it through that wormhole, [laughs] I think B.B. King, I think all your number one examples of each genre. Bob Marley. Maybe the ‘Stones. Maybe Motown as a whole. Uhmm...that’s a very good question. It’s so subjective.

It’s subjective, but yet there’s some criteria a piece of art has to have in order to make it on the list.

Yeah, I think it has to resonate on that spiritual level. We keep coming back to that spirituality. You know, Marley. For sure people are listening to Marley in 1000 years, because his music was too universal. And The Beatles, I just think, just because...I don’t know, maybe they’re just so popular.

I said the same thing to George. He was saying Mozart, I was saying The Beatles.

And Dylan.

Right on. Well, have a great time in Europe and good luck with the new record.

Thank you so much and thanks for thinking of me.

Devon Allman can be found on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/devonallman?fref=ts) and in the iTunes Store.