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

ELECTRIC LIGHT ORCHESTRA: NOVEMBER, 1973

Jeff Lynne, Mike de Albuquerque

Electric Light Orchestra
Winterland, San Francisco
November 24, 1973

(All photos by David Miller)

Bev Bevan

Electric Light Orchestra began as an offshoot of The Move, a British band from Birmingham. In the 1960s, The Move had a number of hits in the UK, including "Night of Fear," "I Can Hear the Grass Grow," and "Flowers in the Rain." In 1970, Roy Wood and Jeff Lynne of The Move, inspired by the use of strings on "I Am the Walrus" by the Beatles, decided to form a new band that would unite rock'n'roll with orchestral elements. Bev Bevan, the drummer with The Move, joined them in their new venture.

Roy Wood soon went off to form another band, Wizzard, leaving the leadership of ELO to Jeff Lynne. ELO quickly found eager listeners in the USA, getting strong airplay on American radio with a recording of Chuck Berry's "Roll Over Beethoven" that featured themes from Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 in C minor. When the fourth album by ELO, Eldorado, A Symphony, was released in 1974, the band gained an even wider audience.

Mik Kaminski

A performance by Electric Light Orchestra was something to be remembered. With guitar, bass, drums, keyboards, violin, and cellos, the band created an amazing sound, roughly akin to the Vienna Philharmonic under the direction of Jerry Lee Lewis. The sight of ELO playing at full power had to be seen to be believed.


David: Seeing ELO walk out on stage was like seeing them walk right off the cover of their third album, On the Third Day, which had recently been released. We had waited since 6 AM to be the first ones in, so I had a perfect spot to take photos. Mike Edwards, the hooded cellist, was hilarious to watch as he made faces and exaggerated moves. The string section seemed to be fully enjoying their first concert in SF. Jeff Lynne was somber and showed little emotion throughout the show, as did Bev Bevan. They pounded out the heavy chords and beat to "Ma-Ma-Ma Belle" without the slightest show of emotion, which made the string section antics all the more fun in contrast.

After the show we waited outside to get the band's autographs. Standing next to Jeff Lynne and Bev Bevan made me feel like a Munchkin. They are both quite large guys. Once again I was struck by how somber and emotionless Jeff Lynne was. He politely signed autographs and then moved on to his limo.

Hugh McDowell, Mike Edwards, Mik Kaminski

Gary: Just getting to see ELO live was a thrill for me. The Move, both before Jeff Lynne joined (Shazam) and after he joined (Looking On, Message from the Country) made some of the best rock albums I'd ever heard. The first ELO album with Roy Wood was off the radar, it was so brilliant. The second album (almost completely without Roy Wood) was different, but wonderful (Richard Tandy was underrated as a keyboardist), and I found an import version of the LP at Rather Ripped Records in Berkeley, spending more for a record than I normally did. It was an important purchase. I considered Bev Bevan to be a monster of a drummer, and I liked his low-voiced singing ("Ben Crawley Steel Company" by The Move) and the overall band humor that accompanied the serious art in all these records.

The Winterland show was great. I remember the string section horsing around (particularly Mike Edwards climbing on Mik Kaminski's shoulders) during "Roll Over Beethoven." To combine humor with Beethoven's Fifth and hard-driving rock was outrageous, but a delight to witness. I was pretty stunned. We left after their set and waited outside to try and get autographs. Eventually, Jeff Lynne and Bev Bevan came out (after the other members) and I remember thinking how tall they were, with Bev Bevan kind of looking like a football linebacker -- a powerful drummer, tall even when wearing flat shoes, almost slippers, rare at the time of high-heeled footwear. They were pretty serious, as Dave mentioned. Their music was mostly serious art. "Kuiama" is a very emotional antiwar song, one of the best of the period.

Michael: The sight and sound of Electric Light Orchestra on stage was a revelation. Although ELO played a form of symphonic rock, it was clear that the musicians did not take themselves, or their music, too seriously. The string players performed with humorous abandon, putting me in mind of Spike Jones and His City Slickers.

I remember that when we were greeting the musicians as they came out of the stage door after the show, Richard Tandy, the keyboardist with ELO, was briefly manhandled by a drunken passerby. Fortunately, Mr. Tandy did not appear to be harmed, but it was a strange moment.


Next: Manfred Mann's Earth Band

INTRODUCTION: THREE FRIENDS

It's good for your body,
It's good for your soul,
It's the golden age of rock'n'roll.
- Ian Hunter (Mott the Hoople)

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, David Miller and Gary Hodges were my closest friends. We all were the same age (David and I were actually born on the same day), and we all shared the same interests, particularly in regard to music, films, and art. Although we had long hair and a hip outlook, our avoidance of hard liquor and illegal drugs set us apart from most of our peers. We were close in the way that only young men without steady girlfriends can be close.

David Miller, early 1970s
(Photo by Gary Hodges)

I knew David first, when we shared an art class in high school, and through him I met Gary. For a while there also was Dan, a neighbor of Gary's who was a few years younger, but he dropped away and found other friends, leaving the three of us to ourselves. We spent time together nearly every day.

We lived near San Francisco, a city which, in the 1960s and 1970s, was a magnet for fans of rock'n'roll. All of the great bands came to the city at one time or another. Tickets for shows had not yet become unduly expensive, and there was a good show every week, usually promoted by Bill Graham. We were consumed by our interest in the music of the day, especially the new music that was coming from the United Kingdom, and made regular visits to Tower Records in Berkeley, looking for the latest releases.

Gary Hodges, early 1970s
(Photo by David Miller)

Over the course of several years, we attended dozens of shows together, seeing most of the British performers who passed through the Bay Area: Pink Floyd, David Bowie, Led Zeppelin, The Kinks, Elton John, Rod Stewart and The Faces, Eric Clapton, Jethro Tull, Traffic, The Moody Blues, Yes, Procol Harum, Cat Stevens, Ten Years After, Humble Pie, Mott the Hoople, Slade, Peter Frampton, Bad Company, Robin Trower, Deep Purple, and many others. At that time, rock'n'roll was still at its best, before it was taken over by businessmen in the 1980s and became overly corporate.

We attended performances all over the Bay Area, but most of them happened at Winterland, a venue at the corner of Post Street and Steiner Street in San Francisco. Winterland had an open floor with no reserved seating, so on the morning of a concert we would arrive early and wait all day, sitting on the sidewalk near the entrance, determined to get through the doors before anyone else. Once we were inside, we would run toward the stage and plant ourselves at the front, remaining there for the rest of the evening. After a show we generally would linger outside the stage door, sometimes until one or two in the morning, which enabled us to have brief conversations with well-known musicians and obtain hasty autographs on scraps of paper.

Michael Collins Morton, early 1970s
(Photo by Gary Hodges)

David took his camera to many of those shows. Back then, photography was freely allowed at most performances, which meant that David, who had a sharp eye for action and a strong feel for composition, was able to get a number of great shots. By taking those photographs (usually in color, sometimes in black and white), he preserved vital moments from an extraordinary period in the musical history of the Bay Area.

Robin Trower, Winterland, 1974
(Photo by David Miller)

Brit Rock by the Bay will feature David's striking photographs, along with memories of the concerts from all three of us. Watch this space and join us in returning to the golden age of rock'n'roll.

Next: Electric Light Orchestra