I began going to the Fillmore when it was called the Village Theater. The first show I went to was the Grateful Dead, and it seemed like they played forever, which they did. I went home before they were finished but thoroughly enjoyed it because I loved their first record, and that was the kind of San Francisco blues they were doing at the time. I don’t know how many acts I saw at the Fillmore. One was Jeff Beck with Rod Stewart, Micky Waller on drums and Ronnie Wood on bass. This was before Led Zeppelin had shown up on the scene and Jeff Beck was one of my favorite influences. Early on, I would always mention Hendrix, Beck and Buddy Guy if someone asked me who was influencing me. Of course I was also influenced by Magic Sam, Mike Bloomfield, Roy Buchanan, and so many other guitarists like the three Kings—Albert, B.B. and Freddie. There are just too many guitarists that I admire to try to make a list, so trust me, I liked all the great guitarists.
In 1962 I was invited over to my friend Eric’s house who put on an early Dylan record. I thought it was very good but I didn’t like it because the record had no electric guitar. I told Eric to call me when Dylan had electric guitars. It only took three years.
Velvert and I used to go to the Fillmore often, although I’d go often by myself as well. I remember the first Allman Brothers show there. While I was backstage they were having a huge party. In the midst of it was a guy tuning guitars with this strange instrument called a Strobo-conn. It had whirling wheels that would stand still when the string was in tune. I couldn’t believe he was able to tune while a huge, noisy party was going on.
Duane Allman’s slide playing was incredibly sharp. I think he was playing through Fender Bandmaster amps. He is the only guitarist I ever held my ears closed for—I could still hear him but that treble was driving me crazy. At most Allman Brothers shows I would walk up the aisle and put my head inside the PA system to hear the guitars even louder. But at the Fillmore show I didn’t do that. I actually moved back to soften the blow. Like the Grateful Dead, they had two drummers going at once, which was wonderful but strange.
I remember the Doors first visit to the Fillmore East and how incredibly and wonderfully sloppy they were. I should say loose, because of what happened when I discussed forming a band with Ray Manzarek some years later. I had lunch with him and accidentally told him that I had seen the Doors when they first played the Fillmore and I loved how sloppy they were. I think he took that as an offense. That band never happened because the singer we chose was on methadone and was a shut-in who never left his house. We couldn’t get him to rehearsal. I saw the Doors twice in the early days. Jim Morrison had an incredible sex appeal that even the boys could feel.
I saw the Who several times, but the show I remember best was at the Fillmore in the early summer of 1969. That night there was a fire next door and everybody was evacuated except Velvert and me. This was the introduction of their rock opera Tommy and Bill Graham had filled the backstage area with pinball machines and lots of wonderful food.
While backstage I happened to see a jam going on between Pete Townshend and John Sebastian from the Lovin’ Spoonful. Keith Moon wanted to get in on it and demanded some cardboard boxes and they were brought to him. Keith went nuts on the boxes while a few other people joined the jam. During the show a fire broke out at a supermarket next door. Although there was no smoke in the theater, a guy went onstage and announced that there was a fire next door and everyone had to evacuate. Roger Daltrey grabbed the guy and Pete Townshend kicked him in the nuts—Townshend was arrested later for this. It turned out that it was an off-duty fireman or policeman who got kicked. The Who wouldn’t stand for anybody coming on the stage and didn’t mind fighting stage invaders to get them off. About a minute later the music stopped again. Another guy went onstage and announced that there was a fire next door and the fire department was insisting that the entire theater be evacuated.
Velvert and I were backstage and we moved very slowly toward the exit until everybody was gone but the two of us. Velvert looked at me and said, “Do you want to leave?” I said, “Do you want to leave? I don’t smell smoke and I want to stay.” So we went back in the dressing room and played pinball and ate the band’s food until people started filing back in. These were the kind of adventures Velvert and I had almost weekly.
Velvert could mimic Jimi’s voice perfectly. He would often call up the Fillmore and get us on the guest list until one day the guy there told Velvert he had just spoken with Jimi and Jimi was in Hawaii. We were banned from the Fillmore—”You’ll never get in here again.” Well, that lasted about two weeks and then we began getting in again.
The first time I saw the Grateful Dead I was smart enough to go before the security showed up. I walked right in and listened to their sound check. Between songs I asked Jerry Garcia if he could put me on the guest list. Jerry said no but he asked Phil Lesh for me. Phil said he had no guests in New York and he would get me on the guest list. Richard Lloyd+1. That was before I met Velvert.
You could say we went to the Fillmore so often that we lived there, but we also went to other clubs and theaters to see shows. Unfortunately, I missed the Yardbirds show at the Anderson Theater and that was really Led Zeppelin’s beginning. Years later Hilly Krystal took the place over and Television got to play there. The ‘60s was an amazing time, and we kids in Greenwich Village took full advantage of it, sometimes going to chess clubs were Bob Dylan would be playing at another table, or the coffee shops where you could order a cup of coffee and sit for a couple of hours watching people come and go.