The Allman Brothers Band keeps pushing — gentle nudges here, violent heaves there — and with still four nights left to go in the epic and already legendary 2009 Beacon Theatre residency, calling shows like last night’s a “blowout” just seems so remote. It was a raging inferno and a soulful celebration, capped off by perhaps the greatest version of Les Brers In A Minor yet played by the current Allman Brothers Band lineup.

[Moogis Screenshot by Musichead]

Overall, the third Monday felt almost entirely unpredictable: a comfortably weird and somewhat esoteric setlist that for what its many, many guests connote, also felt just right. The first set was long and cinematic; I’ve heard better Don’t Want You No More > It’s Not My Cross to Bear openers, but the band got right to business with a chugging, dynamic Done Somebody Wrong, complete with good ol’ Thom Doucette blowing crisp and modal harp. Into this song, especially, the ABB’s breathed a lot more life in recent years: a shuffling intro that finally feels like one instead of a random pre-jam, stirring Gregg vocals, and a better jam segment.

From there things erupted: Warren blowing large shotgun shell holes in Can’t Lose What You Never Had, Derek and Ron Holloway (hi Ron!) laying waste to a wrenching Desdemona (to these ears, still the best of the “new” ABB songs), and a mesmerizing walk through the new and unnamed (though some say it’s called Orfeo) instrumental. I like it: very fusiony Bitches Brew, a tangle of minor key progressions and dark tones, rippling percussion, a little inchoate getting from the spare melody to the jam segments, but overall long and satisfying.

READ ON for more of Chad’s thoughts from last night’s show…

No, wait, from there things erupted: enter Bernard Purdie, Jerry Jemmott and Jimmy Smith from King Curtis’ Kingpins and a touching speech by Jemmott about the connection between the two bands and his memories of Duane leaving Muscle Shoals “to go start some band with his brother.” It was an all-soul and rock ‘n’ roll round robin from that moment on: first a lovely Soul Serenade (sung by Mike Mattison and Susan Tedeschi), then the hoped-for Memphis Soul Stew, and finally, Buddy Miles’ Them Changes, hard and funky and sung by Haynes and evolving into a Southbound-style boogie jam at the end. Ron Holloway stepped in and out throughout, as did Jaimoe, and perhaps the only drawback was that it meant nearly half an hour without Gregg onstage. But they didn’t even end there — Doucette reemerged for a rollicking, roadhouse You Don’t Love Me. (And I can’t imagine that’s the last of Doucette, either — maybe he’ll be back for a few more tonight.)

In set two came one of the band’s deftest decisions: a jam on Blue Sky out of the Little Martha photo montage they’ve been opening most shows with. No vocals, but the statement was made, and it set a pleasant tone for an overwhelming pleasant second set. Jimmy Herring and John Bell emerged and served up three songs shared by Allmans and Panic alike — Walk on Gilded Splinters, And It Stoned Me and a heavy Can’t Find My Way Home. John Bell’s vocals, to me, are always a little odd-sounding outside the confines of Panic but he traded verses with Gregg on Splinters, Warren on Stoned and took over entirely the Blind Faith classic, all three featuring Herring’s signature honeyed lyricism.

[Moogis Screenshot by Gondicar]

The fleet-fingered Herring, who returned after a long, drums segment-plugged Leave My Blues At Home, complemented Trucks and Haynes so well, and to hear the three of them hurtle like comets through a fiery Les Brers was nirvana, Jimmy and Derek pulling aside for some head-cutting, and then Warren muscling his way back into the conversation with a fireball solo of his own. I read a few complaints on the ABB message boards that Herring should have stayed for more of the set, if not the entire show. I know the feeling. Herring was dazzling, and “fit himself” — understandably — into the band better than maybe anyone who’s been onstage at the Beacon so far this year.

The extended Statesboro Blues was the chosen encore and it couldn’t help but feel remote: earthbound, regular, familiar. Guess we had to come down some time.

Chad Berndtson

Chad Berndtson writes about music and technology for Gatehouse Media, Relix, Glide, PopMatters and other publications, and is a Hidden Track consulting editor. He lives in New York City.

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