MY EXPERIENCE 

I was fortunate enough to witness one of the 48 shows presented by this famed assembly of music genius. The show remains in the Top Ten of my favorite all-time concerts and I've seen hundreds by most of the greats in rock and roll.

The concert was at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in beautiful Southern California. I had been a big fan of Joe Cocker since the release of his first album (April 1969) and was excited to be able to experience his spastic presence in a live performance.

As the date approached I began to hear bits and pieces about the spectacle to follow. I initially had expected him to be backed by the Grease Band, which was fine, by me. As I heard more about the show my anticipation rose.

 

The energy in the room was nothing short of extraordinary. The ever-present "warm smell of colitis rising up in the air" augmented the environment considerably. As was always the case when I attended concerts in those days, my mind had been properly "psychedelisized" prior to arrival.

I don't even remember who the opening act was but I wouldn't be surprised if it was "Frampton's Camel". I don't know what their relationship with Wolf Rissmiller (#1 LA concert promoters) was, but I'm sure I saw them at least 6 times at the Civic before Peter Frampton finally exploded in '75 as a solo artist. When I saw him in '76 (?) it was at San Diego's Jack Murphy Stadium along with Yes and Gentle Giant, quite a step up from the Civic. Another story, another time; let's get back to Mad Dogs and Englishmen.

By the time the band took the stage the place was bananas. I don't think I was capable of consuming any more "mood enhancement" although it was free flowing throughout the crowd, which was the custom in those days (only months after Woodstock you know). I didn't think the room could bristle with any more excitement but when the lights went up to showcase the huge line-up on stage, pandemonium erupted. When Joe Cocker meandered out, the hysteria went up another notch. Ah! Those were the days. As captivating as Joe Cocker is onstage,
 

I couldn't take my eyes off of Leon Russell. Who was this piano player who was all over the stage, waving his arms, conducting this huge group of wild freaks who looked to be more stoned than the fans? He was wearing this huge lime green "Mad Hatter" top hat and sported a long gray beard and even longer gray hair. Both were longer than mine at the time, which was most unusual. Being a visual standout is one thing, but his piano playing was outrageous and his soulful, growling vocals were like something I'd never heard before. For an unknown entertainer to upstage Joe Cocker; well let's say I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been there in the flesh. I had no idea who this manic character was, but I was determined to find out. I remember I had to wait a while before his album was finally available.

  It's quite rare to be blown away by an unknown entity when attending a concert. I have been to hundreds and I can only think of two instances that even come close to the excitement that I experienced that night. The first was Black Oak Arkansas at a free outdoor concert ("Love In" was the name for these gatherings at the time) next to the merry-go-round in Griffith Park. I actually experienced an orgasm during their set but that was also triggered by the sweet flower child who accompanied me on that fine day and also reveled in the exciting, raw, sexual, pulse of these new sounds and continued to rub and vibrate her fabulous posterior against my ...you get the picture. The point is, I was so blown away by this unknown rag-tag bunch, the punch of their rhythm section, dueling lead guitars (plus an additional driving rhythm guitar) and fronted by a growling, sneering, Southern-country, crazed, hippie mountain man. He roamed the stage with a frenzied, almost demonic, presence, exuding something like I'd never seen before; raw animal sexuality, but then a little old time southern religion interspersed for good measure. On top of all that, this music-animal front man puts thimbles on his fingers and frantically plays a "washboard", in addition to bashing a cowbell beyond levels that Robert Plant could never have imagined. I was determined to learn more about this band and catch their next LA appearance at UCLA. I had to learn a couple of their songs. My band, Pegasus" would play two of their best songs (Hot "n" Nasty", and "Lord Have Mercy") before their first album was finally released. Imagine our lead singer, Chuck's shock when I brought a washboard to rehearsal for him to play in concert. Thank God he was already quite proficient on cowbell.

The second mind blowing experience by an unknown (to me anyway) was Grand Funk Railroad opening for Chicago at the Forum. I had absolutely no idea who these guys were. I remember thinking "Hey, these guys aren't a funk band". That testosterone driven rhythm section pounding my genitals while Mark Farner roamed the stage like a man possessed heaving his long mane about, sounds kinda familiar? I didn't remain a Grand Funk fan for long but at least I was able to purchase their album the next day and learn a couple of their songs for the next High School gig my band was playing. I also remember feeling sorry for headliner, Chicago, who took the stage and resembled mannequins diligently recreating all the horn parts from their latest album, definitely not Chicago Transit Authority "Live" as I had anticipated. Once again, another story, another time.

          Let's get back to Mad Dogs and Englishmen

In conclusion, "Mad Dogs and Englishmen" was all that anyone could have possibly hoped for. Cocker was in fine voice and was the star even if I was obsessing on Leon Russell. The song selection was great, familiar hits interspersed with blues/soul standards. Occasionally the spotlight was on individual group members for special offerings. Rita Coolidge's exquisite rendition of Russell's "Superstar" provided a moment of awe as well as a chance to catch a breath for the remainder of the explosive energy that followed. Claudia Lennear was so hot that I had to ignore Joe & Leon's stage antics occasionally. God, that woman has got a set of pipes! Paired with industry legend, Kathy McDonald, and the aforementioned Rita Coolidge, the trio surpassed the Ikettes, the Blossoms, the Raelettes, and the finest that Phil Spector ever assembled. Those back-up vocals were augmented by a dynamite horn section (Jim Price & Bobby Keys) and the combination definitely "put the frosting on the cake". Music director, Leon Russell, on piano, organ & guitar (along w/ ex Grease Band leader, Chris Stainton), guitarist Don Preston, and the finest rhythm section in the biz (Carl Radle & Jim Gordon, plus Jim Keltner) had successfully baked it before our eyes (and ears) right there on that stage.

This definitely was "Blue-eyed Soul" at it's finest, surpassing even the greatest "originals", like Ray Charles and the Ike and Tina Turner Revue. Wow! White guys with "Soul".

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