Worth Checking OutÖ by Dana Eric Misenheimer copyright 2004
& The Summer of 77
This month, the induction of Detroit rocker Bob Seger into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has inspired this writer to recount seeing Seger and his deadly Silver Bullet Band in concert nearly twenty-seven years ago with three other great acts of the time. And in reminiscing about this spectacular arena show from August of 1977 ñ at which Seger was not even the headliner, we will look at the reasons Bob Seger deserves to be enshrined in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and remember that in spite of a period of mass appeal during which he may have lost a bit of his underground status, Segerís music pounds with the heartbeat of real rock and roll and drips with the sweat of blue-collar America.
It was Saturday, August 20, 1977. Bob Segerís album Night Moves had been released the previous October, and in the summer of 1977 it was all over FM radio. The title cut was the first single to break from the album with ìMainstreetî soon following. By the time ten months had passed since the album was released in October of 1976, every cut from Night Moves had found its way onto FM album-rock radio at one time or another. It also caused Segerís previous album, Live Bullet, to get a resurgence in airplay, probably more than it had gotten when first released. In any case, Seger was on a summer tour, with Night Moves promoting the concerts as much as the concerts were promoting Night Moves, and Seger was bigger than he had ever been before. All the previous years of hard gigging, regional popularity, and near misses on the charts had finally borne some fruit. Bob Seger had arrived.
I was three months shy of my eighteenth birthday at the time, and it was the summer of punk, but one must remember this is America. As much as we all dig punk now for all the obvious reasons, at the time it still hadnít quite taken hold in the states. My friends and I were typical late-blooming, pseudo-hippies of the time with lots of hair and lots of weed, and our interest in this show really wasnít Bob Seger, but the headliners, progressive rockers Yes. We considered ourselves quite sophisticated for being able to appreciate such an evolved and cerebral band, and they certainly seemed to be the perfect soundtrack for, uh, expanding our minds. It was the Going for the One tour for Yes, with a line up in personnel that many consider the best. The line up was: Rick Wakeman on keyboards, Chris Squire on bass, Steve Howe on guitar, Jon Anderson on vocals, and Alan White ñ from the Plastic Ono Band - on drums. Bill Bruford is the drummer many would insist on having in there to consider it the definitive Yes lineup, but White was definitely an insider at this point, and the Plastic Ono Band credentials were impeccable. We were psyched for some mind blowing workouts of the bandís material.
Before Bob Seger achieved the national popularity he attained with Night Moves, my friends and I were mildly aware of him from a minor hit he had eight years earlier entitled ì2+2=?î. The cut had come from an album on the Capitol label entitled Rambliní Gambliní Man and was credited to The Bob Seger System from April of 1969. I had one friend who was in possession of this album, and the song ì2+2=?î would pop up on radio once in a while, but outside of Detroit and the upper Midwest, Seger was something of a one hit wonder. Although the title cut from Rambliní Gambliní Man was a live staple in Segerís shows and was later given a resurrection in radio airplay because of its inclusion on Live Bullet, ì2+2=?î was all we had previously been familiar with. As the cuts from Night Moves were introduced to us one by one as the album gained momentum, we liked what we heard; however, the ballads from the album were getting the majority of airplay. As the concert approached, I donít think we really grasped how capable of rocking out Seger was, but that was about to change.
The previous night, we had all wound up at a keg party in the basement of an apartment building, so we woke up sleep deprived and dry mouthed to spend a day in the hot sun of what was then known as Rich Stadium - home of the Buffalo Bills - in Orchard Park, New York. After forcing down some breakfast, I was picked up by my friend Ed, and we gathered up the rest of our party ñ party being the definitive word. We made a beer stop and immediately started medicating ourselves with lager and doobage as we rolled towards the stadium.
The lineup for this show was killer. We mildly realized that at the time, but looking back now I realize how fortunate we were to see such a collection of great bands and artists. The line up from opener to headliner was as follows: Donavan Leitch, The J. Geils Band, Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band, and Yes. My ticket stub shows a price of $8.50. Ah, the good old days.
After some tailgating, we went inside the stadium and immediately went to the field. The concert started at noon, and as we strolled onto the tarp covered field which was void of seating, Donavan and an able back up band played a fine set of his chart hits that was perfect accompaniment to a filling stadium under the healing summer sun. Much of the crowd was kind of oblivious to Donavanís set, treating him as a warm-up act while socializing, but my party respectfully gave him our full attention, and we were rewarded with hearing some great songs we loved. It was an indication of a promising day when Donavan returned to the stage and played the song in his encore my party had screamed for. Donavan and his band obliged the screams of the loyal and finished his set with a stellar version of the mystical anthem, ìAtlantisî. The choral ride out that finishes the song got some tasty guitar work from an unknown ax slinger and did what live renditions of a song should always do ñ improve on the recorded version while staying faithful to the original. Donavan left the stage having more than upheld his end of the bargain.
Next up was the J. Geils Band, and the music coming from the stage took a significant jump in the hard and heavy departments. These guys wrote the book on how to whip up an audience, and thatís one of the things about this show that makes it so memorable; each successive act on this bill had to improve on the previous artistís performance with the quality of goods delivered being extremely high. The J. Geils Band hardly seems to need an explanation when it comes to live performances, but for the uninitiated, weíll look at some background.
The J. Geils Band was touring in support of an album called Monkey Island. Together since 1969, they had several albums under their collective belts, but the closest they had ever come to a hit was a song entitled ìGive It To Meî from an album entitled Bloodshot. They had two live albums in their back catalog, which indisputably demonstrated how they functioned best ñ in front of an audience. They later had some chart hits and MTV success with songs like ìCenterfoldî and ìFreeze Frame,î but at this point they were a band whose popularity came by word of mouth and constant gigging. Monkey Island was a bit of a change in direction for J. Geils, taking an almost jazzy tinge at times. Now calling themselves simply Geils, it was their last record for Atlantic.
With vocalist Peter Wolf running his mouth like a cross between a prehistoric rapper and David Lee Roth ñ albeit with considerably more self restraint, the band charged through a set of full blown, high-octane jump blues, R&B, rock & roll, and slightly psychedelic funk. All their live show standards like ìWhammer Jammerî were given prominent spots as Magic Dick verified the legitimacy of his name by blowing some of the fiercest and most athletic harmonica ever heard. They did showcase some of the more thought provoking compositions from their current album with a jazzy, contemplative feel, but they never strayed far from their intrinsic style, putting the crowd firmly in a stripped down, straight ahead, rock and roll frame of mind with a set that was a perfect precursor to what was coming up next. Like Donavan before them, the J. Geils Band left the stage having more than upheld their end of the bargain, leaving the crowd amazed and satisfied but at the same time ravenously hungry for more.
After the J. Geils Band finished their set, my fellow concertgoers and I went into the stands to rest our feet and adjust our attitudes while waiting for the roadies to tear down the previous bandís equipment and set up for the stage for Bob Seger and his band. We scored some decent seats, and finally, Seger and the boys came out.
The crowd was all the more primed for what Seger was offering thanks to The J. Geils Band, and Seger didnít waste any time in attempting to prove that on any given day, he was as fine a rock and roller as anyone will ever see and hear. A feature of this show that stands out in my mind is that because it was a bright and sunny afternoon, the bands couldnít rely on light shows and pyrotechnics to sell their performances; it was all stage presence and musicianship, and Seger and his Silver Bullet Band were road tested and ready. The ballads were delivered with conviction and intensity, and the rock and boogie numbers literally cooked. One could almost catch the whiff of a Detroit auto plant smokestack as Seger and the boys showed Western New York what Detroit had already known for years: that Bob Seger was the real deal.
This may have changed later in his career, but at this concert the emphasis was definitely on the heavy stuff. We got ìTurn The Page,î ìNight Moves,î and ìMainstreet,î but Seger was still primarily driving his American gas guzzler down the same street as fellow Detroit rockers Mitch Ryder & The Detroit Wheels, The MC 5, Ted Nugent, and even Iggy & The Stooges. Dressed all in black with that bitchiní seventies mullet flying in the breeze, Seger ground the gears and burned rubber, making sure the tank was bone dry when the smoke cleared.
One of the songs getting the best treatment at this show was the up-tempo rocker ìGet Out Of Denverî. This song ñ originally from the LP Seven and given new life on Live Bullet - was already composed as a fast paced juggernaut, but at this show Seger and his gang treated the song like a race to see who could finish first. Nevertheless, the band clocked with deadly accuracy, turning the chord changes on a dime and working together like a well-tuned Detroit big block. The spanking piano and over the top rockabilly licks had the crowd in an absolute frenzy.
Somehow Seger was able to mix the ballads with the rockers and make it work. On ìNight Moves,î Bob played acoustic guitar and had the crowd perfectly tuned into the dynamics of the song despite inserting it into a sea of rock and roll numbers. ìMainstreetî was able to make the same connection.
Iím not sure how long the band played, but they gave it everything they had. They played with what I consider to be an essential ingredient for credibility when it comes to rock and roll: an incredible sense of purpose. These guys werenít saving anything for a rainy day. They played this show like it might be the last time they would ever get a chance to perform.
Being a veteran of many live concerts and having seen the full spectrum of spectacles from magnificent musicianship to clear-cut gimmicks, what happened toward the end of the show was one of the coolest things Iíve ever witnessed in concert. Seger and the boys were doing ìKatmanduî and delivering it with vigor and reckless abandon. All of a sudden people in the crowd starting pointing at the scaffolding at one side of the stage that had the PA speakers stacked up on it. Mind you, this was the seventies when bigger was better in just about everything including sound systems. The PA speakers were stacked up higher than the upper rim of the stadium and shaking like an earthquake was in progress from the decibels being pushed. It was also the early days of wireless microphones. Pretty soon everyone in the stadium had his or her eyes fixed on Alto Reed, the Silver Bullet Bandís sax player. With his sax hanging around his neck and decked out in ironically appropriate jumpsuit and platform shoes, he was scaling the mountain of speakers, using anything he could grab on to in order to make his way to the summit of the stacked up speaker cabinets. Finally reaching the top just moments before his featured solo in the song, Reedís perch was an approximately three foot square PA horn that was visibly vibrating. The crowd went ballistic as Reed then closed his eyes, arched backward, and lifted his sax skyward to passionately spew out his solo like an offering to the universe, all in total disregard for his own safety. The crowd was as exhilarated by the sound of his horn as it was by the notion that one wrong step could have been fatal. Reed showed how far The Silver Bullet Band was willing to go to drive Segerís music home, and the crowd was convinced. I think itís safe to say everyone in attendance left the show a Bob Seger fan.
Bob Seger and his band did at least one encore before waving goodbye and leaving Yes in the unenviable position of having to follow their performance. There is no question Yes put on an absolutely splendid show, but in a much different way that would make comparing the two bands like comparing apples and oranges. Unfortunately, many in the crowd were by now too wired into the brand of rudimentary rock and roll The J. Geils Band and Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band had just performed to be able to appreciate the subtle nuances in some of Yesís more introspective material.
Iím happy to report everyone in my party quickly assumed a Yes frame of mind and felt no let down in the intensity of the show. All the crowd pleasers like ìRoundaboutî and ìIíve Seen All Good Peopleî were lovingly displayed with flair and that Yes standard of excellence, leaving no one in my party feeling dissatisfied because of a song left out of the set. The most memorable cuts in my memory are ìStarship Trooperî and a healthy chunk of the Close To The Edge album. By now early evening, Yes never got the full benefit of their light show, but this Yes fan has no quibble. During the final instrumental movement of ìStarship Trooper,î singer Jon Anderson - clad in a long flowing robe - stood center stage with his arms outstretched, striking a messianic pose while the gentle August breeze blew his shoulder length hair back. We unquestionably got the deeper connection we had come for, and frankly appreciated it after the potent but welcome barrage of gunfire we took in courtesy of The Silver Bullet Band. Yes capped off an amazing day of incomparable music.
The Night Moves album and subsequent concert tours were the beginning of superstardom for Bob Seger. The albums Stranger In Town and Against The Wind followed and were instantly successful. More mega albums followed in the next decade. Bob Seger would never not be the headliner ever again on a concert bill. In the future, he would go on to sell out several consecutive nights at major arenas in major cities because of ticket demands. The eighties saw his songs become practically essential to movie soundtracks. In probably the least shallow example of an artist allowing his music to promote a product, Segerís ìLike A Rockî is the theme song used to sell Chevy trucks. It stands to reason a Detroit boy would want his buddies at the auto plants to have job security with all the foreign competition breathing down their necks. No complaints here. Good lookiní out Bob.
Because of all the legitimate things Seger has going for him, Iím willing to look past Tom Cruise lip-syncing ìOld Time Rock And Rollî in his underwear, and Iím even willing to forget that Kenny Rodgers turned ìWeíve Got Tonightî into syrupy easy listening. What I embrace about Bob Seger comes from a hot and sunny late afternoon in August of 1977 when he had no idea what lie ahead in his career and played and sung his heart out for 80,000 wildly enthusiastic converts, showing them the Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band way of rocking and rolling. Does Bob Seger deserve to be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? Címon. Is Detroit in Michigan?
I purposely avoid classic rock radio because of the way it saturates the airwaves with a handful of ìhitsî and beats them into the ground, so when I dug out my vinyl copy of Night Moves and gave it a spin, it sounded good. Real good. Most of the early seventies stuff Seger recorded hasnít been reissued, but the rest is out there in one form or another. I recommend it. Iím proud to say that I saw it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears. I know without a doubt that Bob Seger isÖworth checking out.