URIAH HEEP: FEBRUARY, 1974 (BLACK-AND-WHITE PHOTOS)

David Byron

Uriah Heep
Winterland, San Francisco
February 10, 1974

(All photos by Dan Cuny)

Editor's note: With this post, we are pleased to welcome Dan Cuny as a regular contributor to Brit Rock by the Bay. In the coming months, we will be featuring Dan's photographs of performances by British musicians, while continuing to feature the photographs of David Miller. A brief account of the youthful friendship that the four of us shared in the 1970s can be seen here.

Ken Hensley

Dan: I guess some of the best memories I have of seeing Uriah Heep are of the excitement and pizazz that David Byron had when he came on stage. The bright pink pants, wild hair, and infectious stare were pretty entertaining to watch. I owned many of their albums, and I liked the energy that the band presented. I thought Uriah Heep was raw and edgy, which is what I liked about their music.

Mick Box

Mick Box and his flowing mane were a great deal of fun to watch. His fingers flew up and down the neck of his guitar, playing strong riffs that complimented Ken Hensley's keyboards. Ken Hensley was always my favorite band member. Not only for his strong songwriting skills, but watching him was like watching a wizard behind the keyboards. His long hair and wild hand gestures conveyed to me that he was brewing up a potion behinds the keys. Gary Thain was very glam and a great showman in his white hat, providing an excellent bass beat that went perfectly with Lee Kerslake's hard beat on the drums. I'll always hold a fond memory of this show.

Gary Thain, David Byron, Ken Hensley

More photos and memories of this performance can be seen here.

Next: Wishbone Ash

YES: MARCH, 1974

Jon Anderson

Yes
Winterland, San Francisco
March 15, 1974

(All photos by David Miller)

Chris Squire

Yes began in 1968, when John Anderson, a singer, and Chris Squire, a bassist, crossed paths in London. The two British musicians soon joined with Peter Banks on guitar, Tony Kaye on keyboards, and Bill Bruford on drums.

Steve Howe

In common with other British bands of the late 1960s (Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Procol Harum, Jethro Tull, etc.), Yes strove to expand the musical boundaries of rock'n'roll. Their adventurous approach was founded on vocal harmonies, long songs with majestic structures, and a high degree of musicianship. By the time of their third LP, The Yes Album, they had shaped their symphonic sound to near perfection.

Chris Squire, Rick Wakeman

At Winterland in 1974, Peter Banks, Tony Kaye, and Bill Bruford all had departed. In addition to John Anderson and Chris Squire, the lineup of Yes now included Steve Howe on guitar, Rick Wakeman on keyboards, and Alan White on drums.

The release of Tales from Topographic Oceans, the double album that Yes performed while on tour in 1974, caused a bit of a disturbance, both among fans and within the band. It was unquestionably an ambitious work, inspired by Hindu scriptures and lasting nearly ninety minutes. Some fans, and most reviewers, regarded it as too long and too difficult, and Rick Wakeman made it known that he was unhappy with it. Nevertheless, the crowd at Winterland responded to the performance with great enjoyment, collectively pushing toward the stage in an effort to get closer to the musicians.

Along with the weighty music that Yes played, the stage at Winterland was adorned with imaginative objects designed by Roger Dean, the artist who did the covers of their albums. It was an attempt by Yes to create a complete experience for their audiences.

The musicians of Yes were interesting to watch. Their showmanship was impressive: John Anderson sang with breathtaking clarity, Chris Squire sprang across the stage in white boots, Steve Howe exchanged one guitar for another throughout the show, Rick Wakeman's blond hair gleamed in the spotlight as he stood over his keyboards, and Alan White underpinned everything with vigorous activity on his drums. A performance by Yes was a glorious example of music being taken to its loftiest heights.

David: Five days after seeing the Man/Hawkwind concert in Berkeley, we were back at Winterland for the Yes concert. I had seen Yes at Winterland just eleven months before. At that concert they performed Close to the Edge. This concert they performed Tales from Topographic Oceans. There has been controversy about that album ever since its release. I tend to think that Yes went over the edge on that one.

The concert itself was mesmerizing. Their artistry, skill, and musicianship was amazing. It was like they had been sealed up somewhere taking music steroids since I last saw them, and were now unleashed on us with a power unheard of. Just watching Steve Howe play his various guitars with such intensity was awesome. Jon Anderson's elf-like presence was wonderful. He always seemed to be looking out past the audience, focused on something that only he could see. Chris Squire moved and jumped about in his thigh-high boots, pounding out powerful bass notes. Rick Wakeman, though nearly out of my line of vision, could be seen sparkling in his rhinestone cape, producing out-of-this-world sounds.

The stage was a huge design by Roger Dean, their cover artist. It looked like we were in the belly of a whale and could see its rib cage overhead. The monitors were behind some round, mushroom-looking things. Being right up to the stage was not the best way to view the stage design. It is hardly visible in the photos. The whole effect is somewhat lost being that close. Still, I preferred being close enough to see Steve Howe's fingers dancing on the guitar strings. The whole concert was a fantastic and unforgettable show.

Gary: As I remember, this was the Yes tour that promoted the new Tales from Topographic Oceans (and was just after Yessongs, a live three-LP set). I think this show started with the prerecorded orchestral finale to Stravinsky's Firebird and then went into "Siberian Khatru," like the Yessongs album. I was impressed with Steve Howe's playing - he had a double-necked white Gibson and another guitar on a stand, so that he could play slide without taking off the double-neck. Tales from Topographic Oceans was played almost in its entirety. Michael remarked that he was very impressed by the large number of fans who had actually memorized the lyrics and odd time signatures when they sang along with the band.

Yes also did Close to the Edge. Rick Wakeman's organ part was very well done - the sound was great. Alan White was the drummer. We were used to Bill Bruford, but the band was very tight. I think there was a section where they all played percussion instruments. Jon Anderson played a bit of acoustic guitar in addition to his singing.

I enjoyed the concert, although I think Tales from Topographic Oceans was a further step away from the friendly side of Yes (The Yes Album and Fragile). The music was more complex and less tonal - even the recorded sound itself seemed more remote and distant.

Michael: The concert at Winterland in 1974 was not the first time that I had seen a performance by Yes, but it particularly stands out in my mind. By then, Yes had begun to reach a much wider audience, which was quite amazing considering how demanding their music could be, and Winterland was packed with fans.

As usual with a concert at Winterland, we waited in line all day, which allowed us an opportunity to catch a glimpse of the musicians in the afternoon, when they arrived to do a sound check. They appeared to a bit overwhelmed by the many fans who crowded around them as they stepped out of their limousines. It seemed that the members of Yes were not yet accustomed to the increase in their fame.

The concert itself included music from their latest release, Tales from Topographic Oceans, an album that comprised an extended composition in four parts, spread out over two LPs. Listening to long pieces of serious music in a hot and sweaty venue was not easy. We were standing at the front of the stage, with the rest of the crowd crushing against us from behind, and I remember that I had several moments of feeling faint. The music was worthwhile and engrossing, but I must admit that the physical experience of being there was somewhat uncomfortable.

Next: Uriah Heep (more photos from February, 1974)

HAWKWIND: MARCH, 1974

Stacia

Hawkwind
Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley
March 10, 1974

(All photos by David Miller)

Editor's note: Although these photographs of Hawkwind are not up to our usual standard, we believe that they still have value as an honest representation of the actual performance.

Nik Turner

Hawkwind is one of the oldest, and most legendary, bands in the history of British rock'n'roll. Although Hawkwind has never achieved the same degree of worldwide fame as other bands of their generation, their dogged eccentricity has caused them to be regarded as a musical and cultural institution.

Lemmy, Dave Brock

Hawkwind formed in Notting Hill, London, in 1969, with Dave Brock as guitarist and leader. In the four decades since Hawkwind started, Dave Brock has remained the only constant member, with a number of other musicians passing through the band. The distinctive songs of Hawkwind, built on a foundation of repeated chords, electronic sounds, and murky lyrics, have always set the band apart.

Nik Turner

In 1974, at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley, Hawkwind appeared with Man at a benefit for Timothy Leary, who was in jail at the time. Playing a concert on behalf of Dr. Leary, well-known as the high priest of the psychedelic culture, was quite appropriate for the members of Hawkwind, whose mind-altering music, combined with their informal lifestyle, strongly reflected a psychedelic mindset. For a few hours that evening, it was as if the 1960s had never ended.

Nik Turner, Stacia, Lemmy

At Zellerbach Hall, Hawkwind included Dave Brock on guitar and vocals, Nik Turner (wearing a strange outfit that made him look as if he had just arrived from another planet) on saxophone and flute, Del Dettmar on keyboards, Simon House on keyboards and violin, Lemmy (who later formed his own band, Motorhead) on bass and vocals, and Simon King on drums. This lineup released an album, Hall of the Mountain Grill, in September of 1974. Appearing with Hawkwind was Stacia, a young woman of impressive proportions who danced wildly across the stage while Hawkwind played.

In those days, a performance by Hawkwind was extremely loud and extremely forceful, and conveyed a feeling of otherworldly communion. The music was dense and relentless, hammering the audience into a state of happy confusion. The overall effect, enhanced by the unusual lighting and the free-form motions of Stacia, was thoroughly overwhelming.

David: At Winterland we would arrive at 6 AM for concerts. We decided to show up early at Zellerbach Hall, but not that early. Unlike Winterland, others were not lining up, so we were free to wander. Being on the Berkeley campus and near the hustle of Telegraph Avenue made for a lot of people around. We walked over to Telegraph for a while and happened to see members of Hawkwind walking down the avenue. I didn't know exactly what they looked like, but they stood out even in that crowd. Their hair and their colorful clothes didn't match the scruffy look of the locals. Later, while waiting near the front of Zellerbach, a very striking woman in a red dress walked past us. We couldn't help but notice her, but it was Michael who recognized her as Stacia. I knew almost nothing about Hawkwind. I was there to see Man. Michael explained that Stacia performed in pantomime during the show, which intrigued me.

Being unfamiliar with the music and live performance of Hawkwind left me unprepared for what we saw and heard. It was like crash-landing on Jupiter, with no reference to time or place. The stage was filled with fog and was mainly lit with strobe lights. Taking photos under those conditions was almost a useless endeavor. The photos that I did take came out very dark and had to be overexposed to reveal anything at all. As bad as these photos are, I think they capture what a live performance by Hawkwind was like.

Michael was right about the woman we had seen earlier. That was Stacia. She moved around on the stage in a shiny cape. I remember at one point she stood there and pretended to mix potions in beakers, like a mad scientist or a space witch, and then pretended to drink it. Nik Turner danced out in a frog costume, playing a flute. The two of them moved around each other in the fog, as the music blasted on. The strobe lights created a jumpy action that gave the performance an animated look. I wasn't sure what to think about the show at the time, and many years later I am still a bit perplexed. The closest thing I could compare it to was the Pink Floyd concert that I saw at Winterland in 1972. Hawkwind and Pink Floyd both created an eerie, out of this world, experience with powerful music and visuals.

After the concert we met members of the band and got their autographs. I particularly remember meeting Nik Turner, who was very friendly. He seemed, to us, to be on drugs. His autograph was readable, but we could not decipher the short inscription that he left on each of our scraps of paper. Michael finally worked it out. Nik had written after his name, "Stay High!" I believe he was a man of his word.

Gary: I remember being alerted by Michael and David, and seeing members of Hawkwind walking toward Telegraph Avenue near Zellerbach Hall. They were pale, long-haired men who stood out from the tanned UC dormitory dwellers.

The music of Hawkwind was very repetitive, but interesting. They would set up a hypnotic pattern, with two or three chords which had interesting added tones like ninth or thirteenth chords, and everyone would push the music along in a spacey manner. Lemmy's thundering bass provided a good platform/foundation. Nik Turner ran his saxophone through an echo unit. The spaceship took off...

They had a dry ice machine - I remember the icy feeling and the acrid taste, since we were up front. Strobe lights activated and Stacia would dance across the stage in a mysterious way, with eyes painted like a black mask, if I remember correctly. It was very entertaining. Nik Turner wore a lizard head. They were out of their minds... or, should I say, out of this world...

Later, we met them and got a few autographs. I remember getting two autographs that were almost identical, each of them saying, "All the best, Simon a;lkjdsg;lkj." (One was from Simon King and the other was from Simon House.) No one thought it was funny but me. Lemmy's autograph had a bold "Be of Good Cheer," and Nik Turner's was a frantic scrawl.

They were ahead of their time with their link to science fiction and the overall conception of their music. Groups like Tangerine Dream and Kraftwerk took things further with synthesizers, but I think Hawkwind did it first. It was a great concert and especially rare, not being a Bill Graham presentation. An underground tour...

Michael: No question about it, Hawkwind totally blew my young mind. Their performance at Zellerbach Hall was unforgettably astounding. Although I was not a user of drugs, I found that after Hawkwind had played for fifteen or twenty minutes, the force of their music caused me to lose my connection with the framework of time. It seemed that Hawkwind had been playing for hours and hours and hours.

The lighting made it hard to see the musicians clearly, but Nik Turner, in his outlandish attire, certainly stood out. At times he appeared to be playing a separate concert by himself, braying and squeaking on his saxophone with no apparent concern for the sound coming from the other musicians. Lemmy also was entertaining, shaking his hair and swaying in time with the heavy beat. I was aware that Stacia, who was the tallest person on the stage, sometimes chose to dance without the benefit of clothing, but on this particular occasion there was no display of nakedness. (I must confess to a small amount of disappointment.)

After the show, we waited at the stage door. When Lemmy came out, he graciously gave us autographs, behaving in an amiable manner that belied his rough appearance, and then told us that we were free to go backstage, where the other musicians were hanging out and the roadies were packing up the gear. When we approached Nik Turner, it was abundantly clear that he was still flying high. I wonder if he ever came down to earth?

Next: Yes

MAN: MARCH, 1974

Deke Leonard

Man
March 10, 1974
Zellerbach Hall, Berkeley

(All photos by David Miller)

Micky Jones

The musicians of Man first joined together in 1962 as The Bystanders, in Merthyr Tydfil, Wales. Micky Jones was on guitar from the beginning. The Bystanders released eight singles and appeared on BBC Radio, but went no further. In 1968, with a fellow Welshman, Deke Leonard, joining on guitar and vocals, the Bystanders became Man.

Malcolm Morley

During the next few years, Man recorded two albums, Revelation and 2 Ozs of Plastic with a Hole in the Middle, and played frequent gigs in Germany. Deke Leonard, a gifted songwriter in his own right, was in and out of Man, a pattern that would continue through the coming years. Many other musicians also passed through the band.

Terry Williams, Ken Whaley

In March of 1974, Man appeared with another British band, Hawkwind, at Zellerbach Hall in Berkeley. At that show, which was billed as a benefit for Timothy Leary, Micky Jones and Deke Leonard were joined by Malcolm Morley on guitar and keyboards, Ken Whaley on bass, and Terry Williams on drums. This particular lineup recorded a wonderful album, Rhinos, Winos, and Lunatics, in the same year, and is rightly regarded as one of the best formations in the long history of Man.

Man was different from most other British bands of the 1970s. The musicians put the quality of their performance ahead of any overt attempts at showmanship, working in harmony to maintain a musical approach that was varied, amiable, and straightforward. Their earthy songs frequently depicted characters from the seedy byways of life, telling stories of outcasts, losers, and whores. They were greatly influenced by the Californian bands of the late 1960s, particularly Quicksilver Messenger Service, and they were fond of stretching out their songs to extended lengths.

The excellent set by Man at Zellerbach Hall was a change from many of the concerts that my friends and I attended in those days. Listening carefully to the music, rather than "watching the show," was the main thing with Man. Micky Jones, Deke Leonard, and the others may have projected an air of casualness, but their ability and their dedication could not be doubted.

David: This concert was just two days after seeing Peter Frampton. It was a strange concert in many ways. It wasn't put on by Bill Graham. It took place on the UC Berkeley campus, which rarely held rock concerts, to my knowledge. Whoever promoted it went all out with stickers, fliers, and buttons, all of which I still have today. The whole tribute thing to Timothy Leary was a joke to us. His wife was on stage at one point, trying to talk to him on a phone while he was in jail. She had a bad connection and stood there on the stage, repeating his name with little or no response. Richard Nixon had less trouble talking to Neil Armstrong on the moon.

We waited outside Zellerbach for much of the day. There were a lot of students walking around, as usual, so it was a better atmosphere than Winterland, which was a bit of a ghetto neighborhood.

We walked around the area, and to our amazement, the Man band pulled up in an old station wagon. I recall they were pretty jammed into it. Deke Leonard crawled out of the back. They looked more like roadies than a rock band. I got the feeling they had to travel cheap and haul their own equipment. This made it all the more exciting for me, to see a great rock band living this rough lifestyle, driving for miles between gigs. This was what rock'n'roll was about. No limos here.

They were very polite and spoke to us a bit while signing autographs. I regret not getting some photos of them at that point. A missed opportunity.

The concert itself was great. Man opened the show. We were at the front of the stage. The lighting was minimal, so the stage was very dark throughout the show. It made for a good atmosphere for the music, but made it difficult to get good photos.

Man was not a flashy band. They mainly stood there and delivered their brand of Welsh rock influenced by Bo Diddley and Quicksilver Messenger Service, fueled by alcohol, pot, and tobacco. Ken Whaley fueled himself by eating a pear. He stood too far back in the shadows for me to get a picture of that.

It was a great time to see Man. Deke Leonard had recently rejoined, and Malcolm Morley also had joined. They were playing songs from Rhinos, Winos, and Lunatics, one of my favorites. Many songs from that album went on to become Man standards.

Gary: As I remember, we were the only ones who went early, and we waited on the Bancroft Avenue side of Zellerbach, or at least hung out on the side that was closer to the Sproul Plaza end of Telegraph Avenue, with all the bookstores and street vendors. (I wasn't yet a student at UC Berkeley, and may not have known where the entrance to the hall was.)

When Man arrived later in the afternoon for their sound check, I remember being able to look through the roughly-chained doors. Why they used such a thick chain, I have no idea - a gap was created by the thickness of the chain and through this gap you could see straight down to the stage, and see Deke Leonard with his instantly recognizable black leather jacket and zebra black-and-white Telecaster playing a blistering version of "A Hard Way to Live." I had recently bought Deke Leonard's solo album, Iceberg, where he posed on the cover as a WWI pilot, and loved the music. Looking down through the gap in the doors to the stage would have made a classic picture, but it was probably too dark.

Man, during this tour, had a great lineup (actually forty percent of another band, Help Yourself - Malcolm Morley and Ken Whaley), and their recent albums were starting to get FM airplay on KSAN. They were developing friends in northern California and Quicksilver/John Cippolina ties were in the making. The funny/goofing off cover of Rhinos, Winos, and Lunatics was deceptive - there was tight and inventive music inside. (Man always had great album covers, like Back into the Future with nineteenth-century costumes at a railway station, and Be Good to Yourself at Least Once a Day, with a cover that folded out to a giant cartoon map of Wales and a comprehensive history of the band, "Man's Family Jungle" by Deke Leonard, who wasn't even on the album, not to mention the early album covers with touched-up photos, face painting, and topless poses.) This particular band was one of the best Man bands, with the great Ken Whaley on bass. (I remember before the set, he was tuning his bass and adjusting the equipment while eating a pear - years later, when I told this to the guy who runs Man's newsletter, he said, "That's VERY Ken Whaley.") Malcolm Morley (described by Deke Leonard in one of his books as "the world's most depressing human being") added great musicianship and songwriting to this lineup of Man. Deke writes that they used to pick straws - the loser had to share a room with Malcolm Morley. I really liked "The Thunder and Lightning Kid," and Help Yourself got a bit of airplay on KSAN as well. These musicians later said that they used to play with Man, or as they joked, with men.

The great thing about Man was the musicianship. Terry Williams had great stamina and set up these hypnotic, almost martial, cadences with back beats and build ups, and Ken Whaley provided a driving foundation with his bass playing. The improvisation and soloing by Micky Jones and Deke Leonard was simply amazing. It must have been "Spunk Rock" that really took the roof off, with a lot of scratch and scrape guitar rhythms building up to a fever pitch until the tune finally erupts, almost like a volcano through the gaseous, formless, ethereal clouds at the creation of the world. The band drove the melody and then the level changed, with the tune going from I to IV, then I, then V like a giant blues progression if you looked at the overall arch. It was hypnotic/repetitive, then it would really drive, then it would shift to a different level with new energy - what amazing music.

Malcolm Morley sang a bit, Deke sang most (including his shorter 3 minute songs like "A Hard Way to Live" and "7171 551" from Iceberg), and Micky Jones sang harmony and some lead, anchoring things with great rhythm guitar, trading solos with Deke Leonard and sometimes playing harmony lead guitar, the two of them creating all sorts of harmonies that rock doesn't often have. "C'mon" was a long, stretched out improvisation that had the song base at the beginning and end, and allowed for free expression in the middle. I think Clive John (not in this lineup of the band, but a founding member) really pushed the band from a popular song covering band in Swansea, to the fully expressive band they became - he was the one who got everyone to listen to Frank Zappa and jazz music.

Anyway, I think they did "Many Are Called, But Few Get Up," and I remember "Romain," their song about the policeman in Holland who was following them around, trying to bust them. Deke Leonard introduced the song by explaining that the song was written about this policeman... "He's a BAHSTID." The words of the song are really an argument in life philosophy with this man. Deke Leonard was more the aggressive front man, and Micky Jones the quieter back up guitarist, I thought, though we saw Man two more times in later years, and at the Keystone in 1976, Micky Jones played into the stratosphere and was the more aggressive. The two of them were the main forces, Deke with his black jacket and Telecaster, and Micky, a slight and quiet man, always wearing the same type of worn Celtic plaid shirt with the coattails out, playing a reddish Gibson SG.

In between the Man set and the Hawkwind set, some people tried to set up a phone call to Timothy Leary (I think he might have been in jail), but the connection didn't go through. I remember us hearing them call out "Timothy... Timothy?" - to no avail.

A great concert. Man thanked Hawkwind on an album cover, saying thanks to Hawkwind for achieving the impossible.

Michael: I do not actually have a distinct memory of Man's performance at Zellerbach Hall, but I do remember meeting the musicians when they came to do a quick rehearsal in the afternoon. They arrived in a station wagon that had seen better days, with Micky Jones, who was small and light on his feet, tumbling out of the back door. They were all quite friendly when we spoke to them, and Deke Leonard, in particular, proved to be extremely diverting, sharing funny tales concerning his life as a hard-bitten rocker.

As David said, Man was not a flashy band. They preferred to play their songs without any showiness or rigmarole. Although I tended to be drawn to more active performers, I knew that Man, whose style was easy and direct, represented a true and authentic experience of rock'n'roll. Their music was honest and without pretense, reflecting the unassuming personalities of the musicians. They seemed happy to be on the road, playing to anyone who would listen, with no thought of becoming "stars."

Next: Hawkwind

PETER FRAMPTON: MARCH, 1974

Peter Frampton

Peter Frampton
Winterland, San Francisco
March 8, 1974

(All photos by David Miller)

Peter Frampton got an early start in his musical life, becoming famous as a teenage member of The Herd, a British band remembered for a handful of hits that included "From the Underworld," "Paradise Lost," and "I Don't Want Our Loving to Die." Peter Frampton himself received most of the fame, being dubbed "The Face of 1968."

Rick Wills

In 1969, Peter Frampton quit The Herd and joined with Steve Marriott, who had parted company with The Small Faces, to form Humble Pie. Being in a new band allowed Peter Frampton to stretch his abilities, increasing his standing as a serious musician and strengthening his confidence as an aspiring songwriter. With Humble Pie, he was able to put his years as a teen pinup behind him, establishing a new reputation as a tasteful purveyor of jazzy licks, and becoming known for his exciting showmanship.

Andy Bown

Peter Frampton left Humble Pie in 1971, determined to write and perform his own songs. His first album under his own name, Wind of Change, featured nine of his compositions, in addition to a cover of "Jumpin' Jack Flash." He soon went out on the road with a new band, known as Frampton's Camel, playing frequent gigs and building up an extensive following. In time, his willingness to work hard, combined with the tuneful infectiousness of his music, would pay off handsomely.

In March of 1974, when Peter Frampton appeared at Winterland, he was still trying to make his way to the top. His band included Rick Wills on bass, John Siomos on drums, and Andy Bown (also a former member of The Herd) on keyboards. Although Peter Frampton was the leader, each musician made a distinct contribution to the overall sound.

On stage at Winterland, Peter Frampton gave a winning performance, displaying the appealing qualities that would transform him into a major star when his live album, Frampton Comes Alive!, was released in 1976. From the beginning of his set, opening with "It's a Plain Shame," he was cheerful and charming, self-assured without being cocky, using his voice and his guitar to bring out the warmth in his songs.

David: R.E.O. Speedwagon opened the show. I don't remember much about seeing them. At the time I wasn't interested in their music. The Doobie Brothers were the headliners, but we were there to see Peter Frampton. We left after his performance. Being anti-dope, seeing a group nicknamed "The Doobers" went against our sensibilities. Besides, they weren't British!

I loved Peter Frampton's first solo album, and also the second album with his band, Frampton's Camel, which had a harder edge. The songs were memorable and well crafted. I still own those two albums. I think they are his best work. At Winterland he did songs from both, but also was debuting songs from his third album, Somethin's Happening.

The keyboard player from the first two albums, Mick Gallagher, was gone. Michael recognized his replacement immediately, and told Gary and me that it was Andy Bown, from Frampton's first group, The Herd. I remember the excited look on Michael's face when he told us. I made an effort to get a picture of Andy Bown. One turned out very dark, but I managed to get one of him in the spotlight, adding vocals. It was always hard to get good pictures of keyboard players.

We had the best possible spot to see the show. Peter stood right in front of me, giving me great opportunities to get pictures of him, and also of the bass player, Rick Wills.

This concert was one of my favorites. The music was powerful and Peter Frampton was a dynamic performer on stage. His guitar solos stood out as among the best that I ever heard. Any thoughts of him being just a "pretty face" were quickly pushed aside. He could really rock!

The last song of the set, "Jumpin' Jack Flash," built to a frenzy. I can still remember pointing the camera at Frampton to get a shot of him as he played the last note. His head went down as his hair went up. I clicked at the split second that he hit the final chord. I didn't know what the picture would look like, but I was quite pleased later, when I saw how I had captured the action.

As we waited outside to meet Peter Frampton after his set, I could hear The Doobie Brothers playing "Jesus Is Just Alright." Today, I regret missing their performance.

Peter came out and politely gave us his autograph. He seemed to be in no hurry to leave, so I had a chance to talk to him a bit. Still feeling the excitement of his performance, I asked him if he was going to do a live album. I like to think that I gave him the idea for that. I saw him two more times, once just four months later. We drove from the Bay Area to Sacramento for that one.




Gary: Beatles or Rolling Stones? Traffic or Black Sabbath? Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" or Billy Idol's "White Wedding"? Peter Frampton or Steve Marriott? The differences in the ways of creating were incredible, and the contrasts in the characters of the people making rock music in those days was simply amazing. It sort of seemed that Steve Marriott wanted to take Humble Pie to a darker place, and Peter Frampton wanted to take things to a lighter place, and once he left the band, they both gravitated freely to where their personalities took them. I enjoyed both approaches equally. Music was so great in those days because of it all.

I didn't hear much then about jazz influences in rock music. Aside from Pete Townshend saying that he admired Barney Kessell, only Peter Frampton mentioned jazz in an interview (although I'm sure there must have been others, I just don't remember reading them), saying that he really liked Kenny Burrell.

Peter Frampton played a very nice black Gibson Les Paul. I liked Peter Frampton a lot, and I agree with Dave that his first two solo albums were well crafted and wonderful to hear. I also agree that he could really rock with the best of them. His playing on Humble Pie's Performance Rockin' the Fillmore was blistering, and really pushed Steve Marriott at times.

I liked the Winterland show, and I'm glad to be reminded of the lineup. Was Andy Bown at that show? I know that he was at the later one in Sacramento, but I'd forgotten that he was at Winterland. I would like to have stayed for The Doobie Brothers, too. I liked the early band, as well as the later Michael McDonald period, but we did get to talk to Peter Frampton a bit by leaving early, and if we hadn't, Peter Frampton wouldn't have gotten the idea to do his big live album after talking to Dave, and he wouldn't have ultimately taken over the FM airwaves, making cash hand over fist that would later be siphoned off by the tough music business...

I had a Herd LP, but I don't remember it and sold it back along with the only Andy Bown LP that I ever found. I wish my friends would have been more successful in talking me out of selling so much back. It would be nice to listen to those LPs today. I really liked Peter Frampton's playing and songwriting, as well as his stinging, yet melodic lead guitar at the concerts, where he really stretched out. Perhaps he used the talk box a bit too much at the end, but even that was inventive, the way he communicated with the crowd as his fingers manipulated the strings and supplied the melody. A lot of talent in that man.




Michael: In those days, Peter Frampton had it all: great songs, great musicianship, great clothes, great hair. I remember being particularly impressed by his well-groomed appearance and the way in which he carried himself on stage. He was everything that a British musician of the early 1970s was presumed to be. He was not at the top of the bill that night at Winterland, but he clearly was a star in the making.

His style as a guitarist leaned more toward jazz than blues, setting him apart from other British guitarists of the time. He played each number in a polished and thoughtful manner. The entire performance was worthy, but when he did "Lines on My Face," a gently melancholic song from his second album, it was a special highlight for me. He put that one across with deep feeling. Seeing Peter Frampton and Andy Bown performing together again was special, too.

When we spoke to him after the show, he was approachable and unaffected, quite willing to talk with anyone. I remember him as one of the friendliest musicians that I ever met.


Next: Man

URIAH HEEP: FEBRUARY, 1974

David Byron

Uriah Heep
Winterland, San Francisco
February 10, 1974

(All photos by David Miller)

David Byron, Lee Kerslake

Uriah Heep (a name taken from a character in David Copperfield by Charles Dickens) started out as a British band called Spice. When Ken Hensley joined on keyboards in 1969, the musicians of Spice became Uriah Heep, and quickly began to establish a strong reputation in the United Kingdom and Europe.

Mick Box

In addition to Ken Hensley, the first lineup of Uriah Heep also featured David Byron on vocals and Mick Box on guitar. Other musicians came and went during the early years, but in 1974, when Uriah Heep performed at Winterland, the band included Gary Thain on bass and Lee Kerslake on drums. It was this lineup that achieved a breakthrough in the USA, and recorded four of Uriah Heep's best known albums: Demons and Wizards, The Magician's Birthday, Sweet Freedom, and Wonderworld.

Ken Hensley

David Byron was at the forefront of their sound, both on record and in performance. His voice was a thing of shrill wonder, unmistakable and unforgettable, full of unguarded feeling and able to pierce through even the most bombastic tune. On stage, he was a shamelessly flashy performer. He sang directly to members of the audience, making broad gestures with his arms, bending and twisting his body, doing everything that he could to hold their interest.

Mick Box, Gary Thain

Next to David Byron, the most noticeable musician on stage was Mick Box. He handled his guitar with the showy style and knowing ease that frequently was displayed by British guitarists of the period. He seemed unaffected and down-to-earth, but he also knew how to pose in the spotlight. Ken Hensley was mostly a hidden figure behind his bank of keyboards, as generally happens with keyboardists, but his musical contributions were thoughtful, well-defined, and essential. Gary Thain and Lee Kerslake, both able musicians, rounded out the heavy approach for which Uriah Heep was justly known.

David: Uriah Heep was the loudest sound I ever heard. My ears are still ringing. I am sure the hydrogen bomb was louder, but not by much. Ken Hensley hit notes that cut into my ear drums. Mick Box drove his guitar into the stratosphere. David Byron's voice was powered by jet fuel. The concept of putting cotton into my ears was unknown to me at the time.

I had seen Uriah Heep a year and half earlier, but I think we caught them at their peak at this concert. They had the best band members and had released Sweet Freedom several months before. I was taken with their combination of hard, raunchy sound leaning toward progressive rock. Toss in a little glam and songs about wizards, and it made for a great concert.

David Byron was the ultimate showman. When he saw me pointing the camera at him at the start of the show, he leaned forward and allowed me to take a super closeup. The tight pants he wore gave credence to the myth that British rockers had the biggest crotch cleavage. Whether it was real or whether something was stuffed down there, is not known.

I was totally thrilled to be in a position to photograph this concert. They did "Sweet Lorainne," "Sunrise," "Easy Livin'," and "The Magician's Birthday." I remember David Byron pointing at the audience when he introduced "Look at Yourself." Every time he sang, the spotlight was on him, while Ken Hensley sat in darkness, playing keyboards and theremin. Gary Thain thumped away on bass. Mick Box was a mass of hair and screaming lead guitar. All in all, a perfect band for the eyes and ears.





Gary: Uriah Heep weren't among my favorite bands, though I bought their records (and sold them back) thinking at the time that they were kind of a hard rock band trying to be accepted as a progressive band (which I didn't think they were). In listening to a couple of their LPs that I bought back in recent years, I like some of Ken Hensley's writing, mainly the early recordings. "Look at Yourself" has a Moog solo by Manfred Mann, and "Salisbury" is a longer track with orchestration that is fantastic. Ken Hensley's first solo album, Proud Words on a Dusty Shelf, seemed unspectacular back then, but I'd like to find it again and give it a new listen.

Demons and Wizards and The Magician's Birthday had the cover artwork by Roger Dean, but I didn't like the music as much. I just found a copy of Sweet Freedom (made after the Roger Dean period) that I had forgotten about. It looked like they were getting back to a more basic approach, with just a photo of the band on the cover. It seemed to fit the band better. Maybe the freedom was freedom from trying to market their music in a certain way.

The Winterland concert was fun. I mostly remember David Byron hamming it up, and Mick Box spitting into his hair. It was all very entertaining. Ken Hensley remained mostly in the shadows, as I recall. It was good to see Gary Thain. I really liked his playing on LPs by The Keef Hartley Band. Sad to hear of him passing away from a heroin overdose in 1975. Also sad to hear of David Byron passing away too young in 1985, as a result of alcoholism. I enjoyed his singing. He put a lot of energy into it, and was a very dynamic performer. Overall, Uriah Heep seemed more hard rock than progressive, though Ken Hensley's writing could have made the band different if he and they had wanted it to be different. They were a unique band, named after a Dickens character, no less. "Charles Dickens, meet Lee Kerslake!!"

After the concert, meeting members of the band for autographs, I remember David Byron being very flippant at our attempts to congratulate him. He kind of shrugged off his talent by being funny. They were all nice people and skilled musicians. To this day, they have a cult following.

Michael: I was quite excited to see Uriah Heep. I loved performers who had flash and flair, qualities that Uriah Heep had in abundance. Their music was not particularly subtle, but it was not entirely shallow, either. They gave a thunderous performance that was embellished with unblushing showmanship, especially on the part of David Byron. He thoroughly outdid himself, ardently engaging the audience from beginning to end, clearly taking great enjoyment from being on display. At the end of the show, a burst of confetti rained down on the stage.

Mick Box came across as an extremely amiable fellow. I remember him crouching at the edge of the stage between songs, showing the fingering of a few chords to a fan in the front row.

I share Gary's memory of meeting David Byron after the show. The singer, who appeared to be quite drunk, casually dismissed the praise that we offered, appearing to be more interested in the two young women at his side.

Finale

Next: Peter Frampton

MANFRED MANN'S EARTH BAND: FEBRUARY, 1974

Mick Rogers, Manfred Mann

Manfred Mann's Earth Band
Winterland, San Francisco
February 10, 1974

(All photos by David Miller)

Mick Rogers

Manfred Mann was born in South Africa and moved to the United Kingdom in 1961. During the British Invasion of the 1960s, he became known as the keyboardist and leader of Manfred Mann, the group that bore his name. With Paul Jones on vocals, the musicians of Manfred Mann scored major hits with "Do Wah Diddy Diddy," "Sha La La," and "Pretty Flamingo." In 1968, with Mike d'Abo singing, they had another hit with "Mighty Quinn," a song written by Bob Dylan.

Mick Rogers, Colin Pattenden

In 1969 Manfred Mann and Mike Hugg formed Chapter Three. After the release of two albums, Chapter Three ended and was followed by Manfred Mann's Earth Band in 1971. In addition to Manfred Mann on keyboards, the Earth Band featured Mick Rogers on guitar and vocals, Colin Pattenden on bass, and Chris Slade on drums.

The music of Manfred Mann's Earth Band was both straightforward and inventive, blending rock, jazz, and melodies from classical works. Manfred Mann made extensive use of synthesizers, creating a distinctive sound, while Mick Rogers added an expressive sheen with his voice and guitar. Colin Pattenden and Chris Slade provided a tasteful foundation.

Chris Slade

When these photographs were taken, Manfred Mann's Earth Band was touring to promote their latest release, Solar Fire, now regarded as one of their best albums. It included a full-bodied rendering, nearly ten minutes in length, of another song by Bob Dylan, "Father of Day, Father of Night."

David: Seeing Manfred Mann was quite a thrill. I mainly thought of him as part of the British Invasion. Later I was a fan of his cover of the Bob Dylan song, "Mighty Quinn." I think it was Gary who told me that the song was about the actor, Anthony Quinn, and a movie he was in, The Savage Innocents. I guess that stuck with me, because when I saw Manfred Mann on stage, that is what I was thinking about: "Wow! That's the guy who sang about Anthony Quinn!"

I was very happy to secure a spot at the front of the stage. Manfred Mann was just to my right, and the other musicians were directly in front of me. I felt that the over twelve hours of waiting in line since the break of dawn had been worth it. Not to mention having to wait through the opening act, Fever. I have no memory of them at all, so I must have slept through their act.

The music was great. They were doing newer songs and not so much from their first album, which I loved and still think is their best effort. They were definitely out to rock and left out "Living Without You," the Randy Newman song. I had found that to be the case with most touring bands. They have hits with ballads and pop songs, but on stage they go for the jugular with the heavy stuff.

Mick Rogers was the main show. He looked great in his white suit. He sang and played guitar fantastically. I was able to get the best shots of him, since Manfred Mann was less in the bright spotlights. Manfred Mann was up front, but he leaned over his keyboards, bathed in darkness. He reminded me of Captain Nemo.


Gary: Manfred Mann's Earth Band was a real favorite of mine. I liked the early Manfred Mann band with Paul Jones and Mike Hugg, and also Chapter Three (I have the Vertigo LP of Volume One by Chapter Three, which I think is great, with "Mister, You're a Better Man Than I," Manfred singing on "One Way Glass," and the great arrangement on "A Study in Inaccuracy.") Those bands preceded the Earth Band and were great individual bands that had their own lifespans. Manfred Mann not only kept reinventing himself, but did so with great artistic vision. I heard that there was an unreleased album by Chapter Three, Volume Three, that was recorded but had no backing from the record company. Maybe that caused Manfred Mann to form a new band that was smaller and more mobile.

Dave had the first couple of Earth Band records, and I remember wanting to hear them. I eventually got them and they were great. I also liked Solar Fire, the record they released around the period that we saw them at Winterland. (My sister borrowed my copy of Solar Fire and listened to it a lot, while studying physics and astronomy.) Manfred Mann's keyboard technique and choice of keyboards (organ/electric piano/Moog synthesizer) was uniquely different from other progressive rock bands. He bent notes and slid, modulating very subtly, and pounded when he needed to drive the band. His background (coming from apartheid South Africa), his jazz/blues influences, and his rugged individualism made me really take note. Colin Pattenden and Chris Slade were a very strong bass/drums rhythm section. When they started getting into driving rock grooves, they really kicked it. Mick Rogers was a masterful guitarist and a fine musical thinker.

I like Manfred Mann. I like his sense of humor, his sense of justice, and his musical sensibility. That performance at Winterland will always stay in the forefront of my memory.


Michael: I agree that Mick Rogers was quite impressive in his white suit. He gave a sharp performance, displaying the kind of polished showmanship that was common among British musicians in the 1960s and 1970s. Colin Pattenden and Chris Slade also made a strong impression. Seeing Manfred Mann himself was a special thrill for me. I was always excited to see a famous musician from the days of the British Invasion.

As David mentioned, Manfred Mann was in darkness most of the time, but he clearly was in charge of the music, directing the band from behind his keyboards. During a difficult moment in one song, he crossed himself and looked upward, as if he was soliciting divine assistance.

Next: Uriah Heep