Gregg Allman sets the rules

In the interests of my ego and your entertainment, I'm working on repurposing some of the entertainment journalism I did in the 1990s. Most of these articles were originally published in the Oakland (Calif.) Tribune, and none are otherwise available in electronic form, as far as I know. Seems like fans might like a glance back at what their musical heroes were thinking back when.

This interview with a prickly but ultimately chatty Gregg Allman originally ran in October 1991.

"We're not going to talk about drugs," Gregg Allman says over the phone, his voice bristling with irritation when the legendary excesses of his past are mentioned.

"We're not going to talk about Cher, we're not going to talk about motorcycles, and we're not going to talk about dead brothers.

"That's my personal life," says the singer and keyboardist for The Allman Brothers Band, which performs tonight at the Concord Pavilion and Sunday at the Shoreline Amphitheatre. "What I did was my own business."

Sure, Gregg - no problem. So ... how about those Niners?

By declaring the sordid details of his past off-limits, Allman would seem to have torpedoed most of the possibilities for an interesting conversation. .

But it turns out there are some topics the singer is positively bubbly about - at least, as enthusiastic as he can sound with his laconic Southern drawl. At the top of his list is his acting debut in "Rush." Due to be released this Christmas, the cop thriller stars Sam Elliott and Jennifer Jason Lee.

"I play the bad guy," Allman says. Specifically, he plays - get this - one of the biggest drug pushers in the country.

"Hey, bro, I didn't write it," he snorts at the slightest hint of typecasting. "I've known people like that, but it's not me. It was a very tough role."

A tough role, but not without its rewards, Allman says. .

"I got to kick the (tar) out of a couple of Mexicans - that was fun."

Born to...floss?

Whoa, Gregg. Why don't we just start at.the beginning and kind of feel our way along? Maybe we can get the ball rolling by talking about how you were born to rock 'n' roll, growing up in the rural South surrounded by the sound of the blues.

"Actually, I was going to be a dentist - a maxillofacial surgeon," Allman says.

He explains that while he and his brother Duane loved to play along with Howling Wolf and Light­ning Hopkins records, Gregg never saw much of a future in it.

"The Beatles came out at that point, and it seemed like everbody had a band. I figured we'd never make enough money to even pay the rent."

Allman says he agreed to form The Kings in 1960 to humor Duane and get on with his life.

"I figured I'd do it for year - get it out of my system and then go to dental.school. "

One year turned into two, how­ever, and The Kings mutated into The Allman Joys. By the mid 1960s, the band developed a repu­tation as one of the hottest acts in Georgia, specializing in a blistering blend of blues and rock.

Duane also began to attract attention for his fluid, powerful style of guitar playing. He became a sought-after session musician .playtng on records by such soul legends as Wilson Pickett, Aretha Franklin and Percy Sledge. A 1968 session led to a recording deal for the Allmans, who quickly assem­bled a group of past and present associates to form The Allman Brothers Band.

The group recorded two moder­ately successful albums before releasing "At Fillmore East" in 1971. The live album captured the band at its peak, showcasing Gregg's rough-hewn voice and the fierce interplay between Duane and fellow guitarist Dickey Betts. The album made the Top 10, and soon critics across the country were hailing The Allman Brothers as America's greatest rock band.

"It scared me, to tell you the truth," Gregg recalls. "We all came from poor folks, and within five weeks we went from poverty to mil­lionaires.

''You can get into a lot of trouble with that kind of money. We just went around buying everything we could get our hands on."

One of those purchases was the motorcycle Duane was killed on less than three months after "Fillmore" was released.

"It was staggering," Gregg says of the loss. "For about two weeks, we just sat around and looked at each other. Then I figured we were either going to start playing again or go crazy."

The Duane-less Allman Brothers went on for a few more years, even after bassist Berry Oakley was killed in a 1972 motorcycle crash blocks from where Duane lost his life.

Lost the spark

But even with Gregg picking up the guitar to take his brother' s place, the band never had the same spark as the original version. The Allmans offlcially split up in 1977, shortly after Allman's testimony re­sulted in the band's manager, Scooter Herring, receiving a 75- year sentence on drug charges.

Bitter feelings surrounding the trial are commonly credited with splitting up the band, but Allman doesn't even acknowledge that the group broke up.

"We were just getting burned out," he says. "We knew we'd be back together. Besides, all that stuff happened because of outsiders. There's never been any hassles in­side the band."

Throughout the 1970s, reports surfaced of Allman's massive drug use. Cher blamed his heroin habit when she filed divorce papers against Allman a few months after their 1975 wedding.

All Allman will say on the subject is he's been clean for 12 years - "Thank God."

Anyone who wants to know more is advised to consult "End of the Line," the opening cut on "Shades of Two Worlds" (Epic), the new album by the reunited Allman Brothers Band. The song features Allman's most impassioned singing in years, as he wails:

I almost lost my soul

Rarely I could find my head

Wake up early in the morning

Feeling nearly dead.

When I think about the old days Lord,

It sends chills up and down my spine ...

Those days seem to be behind Allman for good, however. After years of off-and-on reunions, The Allman Brothers Band is going strong and playing better than it ever has since Duane's death.

And Allman gets all the kicks he needs from his new 100-acre spread in Napa County.