“A guy at the mic kept saying, 'Stick around, Skydog is gonna come and jam.' I had no idea Skydog was Duane Allman. I’d never heard him play. He was introducing what immediately became my favorite band. My head jerked back with Duane's slide intro to Statesboro Blues. What is this magical sound? I kept glancing at the stage as we were spreading our blanket and getting situated? What is this? Two drummers. One of them, Jaimoe, mostly syncopated; the other, Butch Trucks, in perfect complement. There was the guy I figured was Duane and the other guitar: Dickey Betts. They would play against each other. Then in tandem. Berry Oakley was too dang solid providing bottom on the bass. And that blonde guy at the B3, singing with an incredible gut bucket blues voice like he'd grown up on Stovall outside of Clarksdale. Younger ⁠brother Gregg. I. Had. Never. Heard. Anything. Like. It. Because no band had ever done what they did. Playing the blues so soulfully, yet lyrical at the same time. At times raucous as when they riff it out on Whipping Post. At one moment they were melodic and calming, as with Dreams. Their music was both concise and expansive and cut through to the core of my soul. In too many ways to go into here, I've never been the same person since.” cd kaplan 📷Sam Feinsilver