Alan Paul creates the chronological narrative of One Way Out: The Inside History of The Allman Brothers Band by interweaving excerpts of interviews with band members, family and friends, business partners and acquaintances, with much the same intricacy the band itself improvises. In doing so, he, more often than not, illuminates familiar topics and uncovers sufficient hidden details to edify fans as well as novices eager to learn more about the seminal Southern rock band
Like the pacing of a fairly good Allmans live set, the readability of this book rises and falls in line with the evolution of the group. The sense of purpose and intensity brought to the band by its founder, the late Duane Allman, is mirrored in the zeal of his handpicked musicians and that dedication permeates the inner circle of ABB, crew, friends and lovers, so much so that the recounting of the group’s survival in the wake of the guitarist’s death, resonates with a palpable sense of the profound loss they all endured.
As Paul elicits more modern-day observations on the Allmans’ resilience, the group members’ devotion to Duane is remains so vivid, it’s simple to see how their loyalty to his legacy, and that of the group, maintained equilibrium when it was most severely tested. That emotional quotient in turn makes the mid-Seventies dissolution of ABB almost as graphic. By his astute choice of perspective and verbiage, Paul is able to reveal how irresponsible was the band’s attitude toward themselves and their reputation, particularly in the wake of the commercial success they achieved after having reconfigured themselves with the addition of keyboardist Chuck Leavell and bassist Lamar Williams (who had replaced founding member Berry Oakley, himself the victim of a tragic accident like his mentor’s).
In clarification of the acrimony that arose over Gregg’s testimony at federal drug trafficking investigation around that same time, the otherwise artful authorship begins to falter somewhat. Perhaps it’s just the passage of time since the events themselves, but group members including drummers Butch Trucks and Jaimoe (whose respective foreword and afterword might better have been reversed here) seem all too willing to distance themselves from a rancor so painful at the time, certain individuals vowed never again to work with the surviving Allman.
And in detailing the Allmans fitful regrouping in 1979, then its much more successful reinvention of itself a decade later,
Paul appears to often avoid substantive issues. Included as an aside, and nothing more, is a comment from one-time (and long-time) band confidante Kirk West, on the excessive volume of bassist Allen Woody’s instrument: if it was in fact an ongoing sore point with unnamed individuals within the ABB ranks, why no prior or further mention of the issue, particularly when Paul otherwise so clearly illuminates the internal friction that played such a large factor in the departure of Woody, with guitarist Warren Haynes, to form Gov’t Mule?
And if Paul pushed group members, including Dickey Betts himself, to offer insight into the turmoil that led to the guitarist’s departure in 2000, there’s little evidence of it; perhaps due to legalities, all involved tread ever so lightly around this ultra-sensitive issue, apart from the blow-by-blow account of a violent band meeting near the end of Betts’ tenure. And Betts’ own summation of this traumatic event simply does not sound like his own voice.
The description of Gregg Allman’s difficulties in coping with the after-affects of his health issues later in the decade verges on a non- sequitur within the latter day ABB storyline. According to Paul, the surviving sibling’s on-stage faux pas occurred often enough (and obviously enough to his bandmates) for him to waylay an intervention by entering rehab of his own accord; Allman offers no such perspective on this sequence of events in his own book (perhaps due to deadline restrictions on its May 2012 release?), but the fact is, Gregg’s absences from Beacon shows that year were chalked up to ‘back problems.’
Alan Paul doesn’t pursue this contradiction, so his apparent unwillingness to prod his interviewees, particularly the band itself, calls into question whether, at this point, he had become too comfortably ensconced in the inner circle. But the author arguably redeems himself–and his book– precisely because of that very intimate relationship when he captures wunderkind guitarist Derek Trucks’ observations on hypothetical lineup changes that would conceivably bring an end to The Allman Brothers Band. This sequence near the end of One Way Out sound eerily prescient, based on the early-2014 announcement of his and Warren Haynes’ departure from the ABB lineup; clearly, those internal conversations were already underway at the time Paul speaks to the wunderkind guitarist, and it’s to the writer’s great credit he simply allows him to speak, knowing to interrupt the train of thought would derail it.
Alan Paul’s expertise as a skilled reporter is nowhere more adept than there and the subsequent conclusion he tenders for The Inside History of The Allman Brothers Band corresponds to the sequence of a well-conceived setlist from the group, emphatic punctuation to the history of a band that has defied both logic and emotion in its stubborn refusal to surrender to adverse circumstances.
