At the Fillmore in January 1997, where Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers made their historic 20-night stand to reclaim their musical soul—and leave an indelible impression on their audience.
With Petty as host, the Fillmore show attendees were treated to a tour of American roots music, psychedelia, foundational rock ’n’ roll, and Heartbreakers’ hits and obscurities, plus guest appearances by Roger McGuinn, Carl Perks, and John Lee Hooker.
Photo by Steve Minor
Tickets disappeared fast, but my sister scored a few for a show early on in the run, and when the day came, we set up camp on Geary Boulevard sometime around mid-morning in hopes of a shot at the front row. We weren’t alone. Our day in line was hilarious in a beautiful, old San Francisco kind of way, which is to say full of randomness, bacchanalia, and various brands of benevolent psychosis. The new friends we met were capital “C” characters. The air was fragrant. And for several hours we partied together, ate fried chicken and mashed potatoes from the KFC down the block, traded concert stories, and talked about record collections. Standing in line, I noticed something else. If you could be bothered to be at the Fillmore preposterously early and spend hours of your life sitting on cold concrete at great risk of terrible disappointment, you had a shot at the 10-20 tickets the Fillmore kept in reserve. I took note, and thought that if the show was good I might give it a try another day.
I guess I wouldn’t be writing this now if that first show wasn’t pure joy. We did make it up to the front—well the second row, anyway. And for a few hours I stood right there at Tom and Mike Campbell’s feet. I had expected a special show, and that I would have a blast. But I went home that night buzzing. I felt the same the next day. And by the time the 20-show run was done, I’d seen four of them.
“Our day in line was hilarious in a beautiful, old San Francisco kind of way, which is to say full of randomness, bacchanalia, and various brands of benevolent psychosis.”
There is an inexplicable warmth and magic about the Fillmore. There are grander and prettier venues in the world. But few are as rich with ghosts and aura. It may look like a simple old dance hall, but the grand chandeliers, psychedelic posters, and red velvet always lend a sense of sanctuary. And when you imagine the figures that stood on that stage, and feel the weight of that history, it feels even more enveloping and spiritual. Up on stage, the Heartbreaker’s mountain of old equipment seemed at home amid the Fillmore’s gold and crimson glow. Tom and Mike’s blonde Fender Bassmans looked dusty and earthy. And if you squinted, the scene looked a little like the barn shot on the back of Neil Young’s Harvest recreated in a Victorian bordello.
One of the Heartbreaker’s motivations for the Fillmore was a desire to shed their showbiz sheen for a minute. Certainly, the Heartbreakers machine had taken on a kind of predictability in the years leading up to the Fillmore run. But whether they considered it or not, the Heartbreakers were also taking part in a great tradition of cultural dynamism and exchange—dating back decades to the migrations of the Byrds, CSNY, and, in a way, the Beats before them—that of shaking off the shackles and glitter fix of Hollywood and heading to the North Country to get loose. Not coincidentally, the atmosphere around the Fillmore shows had the uncanny feel of a Grateful Dead show. The environment was intensely positive and contagious, and the Fillmore hummed with the energy of a fantastic party, well before the Heartbreakers even took the stage.
The exterior of the Fillmore, with Geary Boulevard in front.
Photo courtesy of Wiki Commons
At each of the four shows I attended (each spent rapt, leaning on the stage at the feet of Mike Campbell), the band kicked off with a three-punch flurry of Chuck Berry’s “Around and Around” (in the fashion of the Stones version), the 1987 nugget “Jammin’ Me,” and “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” which was traditionally a set closer. It takes a very confident band, sitting on a mighty cache of tunes, to come out swinging that hard. And as the band got cooking over the course of those first three tunes, you felt a giddy momentum and sense of movement gather in the crowd. From there, each show took its own shape, and on most nights the sense of anticipation and surprise pivoted around the set switch-ups and the covers the band threw in so effortlessly: JJ Cale’s “Call Me the Breeze and “Crazy Mama,” Mike Campbell taking solo turns on Ventures tunes and the Goldfinger theme, a beautiful, moody take on Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” the Zombies electric 12-string lament “I Want You Back Again,” and, in a nod to the creative conduit between L.A. and the Bay, the Grateful Dead’s “Friend of the Devil”
“The Fillmore hummed with the energy of a fantastic party, well before the Heartbreakers even took the stage.”
Then there were the guests. Roger McGuinn grinning as the band of assassins behind him summoned the amphetamine drive of “Eight Miles High” once again. Carl Perkins grinning even wider and devilishly, in real blue suede shoes, as he dazzled Campbell with his own very underrated and deadly picking. Guest turns can feel terribly contrived on big stages—just another showbiz move to get a few wows. But like so many other little moments at the Fillmore, these were peppered with spontaneity. I distinctly remember Mike Campbell laughingly waving away the clouds of pot smoke as Perkins, a classy gent and one of rock ‘n’ roll’s elder statesman, took the stage. And at one point during the McGuinn guest set, Campbell took the black Squier Telecaster he’d just used for “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” and gifted it to one of the regulars from the line out on Geary. She hadn’t yet missed a show, another front-row lunatic told me. I suspect he hadn’t missed many himself.
If I am honest, when I listen to the Fillmore performances as they appear on the new release, they seem much smoother and more polished than anything I remember hearing on those four nights. Up in the front row, I was taking more than a little heat from Campbell’s Bassman and Kustom amps, not to mention a whole lot of drums and cymbal splash. It all sounded so incredibly raw and rambunctious. So, I can’t help but think about how cool it would be to have a go at that mix—to coax all the rowdy grit I heard from this weird Southern hippie amalgam of the Stones, Byrds, and Dead turned into a monster tavern cover band that growled, roared, laughed, and drove 1,300 souls to beaming happiness for 20 nights. Maybe I’m wrong, but I have a feeling my old buddies from that line outside the Fillmore would really love it.
Q: Have you ever met one of your guitar heroes? How did it go?
Emily Kokal — Warpaint
Photo by Robin Laananen
A: Yes—John Frusciante. It went great; we ended up living together for three years.
Emily Kokal's Current Obsession
Huerco S. and all things old and new ambient. Suzanne Ciani, Eno, Jon Hopkins, Autechre, Boards of Canada, Tony Scott. I listened to the Huerco S. album For Those of You Who Have Never (And Also Those Who Have) constantly before writing our new album. I don’t know if it had any direct effect on the album itself, but my favorite song on the record is called “Promises of Fertility,” and it did have a direct effect there, I think, because I’ve since had a child.
Howard Van Ackooy — Reader of the Month
A: I met Roger McGuinn back when the Byrds played the Peekskill Palace on June 29, 1969. They had just released Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde, and McGuinn had a completely new Byrds lineup with Clarence White, John York, and Gene Parsons. It wasn’t exactly a popular time for the Byrds, and they were playing an afternoon and evening show that day. The afternoon show was a very small crowd, and my brother and I were sitting in the first row, waiting for the concert to begin. Roger walks in with his Rickenbacker over his shoulder and sits down between me and another guy and starts talking to us, and even asked us what songs we’d like to hear. It was a moment I’ll never forget, and both the afternoon and evening performances were terrific.
Howard Van Ackooy's Current Obsession:
My musical obsessions center around my love of guitars. It was hearing The Byrds’ Mr. Tambourine Man and seeing Roger (then Jim) McGuinn playing that Rickenbacker 12-string that made me want to play guitar. I started taking lessons, and even had a pair of those McGuinn “granny glasses.” Since then, I’ve acquired many guitars (mostly electric) and, of course, had to have a Rickenbacker (I have two: a 36012-string in jetglow, and a 360 6-string in mapleglow, like Roger’s). I currently play in a local band, Stark Raven, mostly for fun, and love playing any type of guitar rock!
Shawn Hammond — Chief Content Officer
A: While covering the 2007 Ellnora Guitar Festival at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, I made my way to a beverage area set up for press and artists who’d arrived the night before the show opened. As I perused the small spread of beers, in walked one of my biggest influences from my teen years—the man who’d almost single-handedly gotten me into funky chords and blistering chromatic runs: Vernon Reid of Living Colour.
Vernon Reid digs in.
Before you knew it, we were sitting elbow to elbow on a comfy little couch, shooting the breeze about this and that. Truthfully, I can’t remember a single thing we talked about. I’m sure I came across like a starstruck, bumbling fool, but cool ol’ Vern must be used to that, because he didn’t let it show!
Shawn Hammond's Current Obsession:
I don’t know if I can quite call it an “obsession” (yet?), but I’m definitely finding myself more and more intrigued with opera, including Mozart’s Don Giovanni and Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème.
Jason Shadrick — Associate Editor
A: In 2004, my girlfriend (now wife) and I were at the Blue Note in New York to hear Jim Hall and Charlie Haden play as a duo. After the set we headed upstairs to hit the restroom before catching a cab. As I waited for her, the dressing room door opened a crack and out walked Jim Hall. “Hey man, how are you?” he said. I somehow formed a sentence before he invited me into his dressing room and closed the door. A few minutes later Charlie Haden popped in and I had this amazing talk with two absolute heroes. Then the door suddenly opened and both Jim and Charlie looked puzzled as this woman (my girlfriend) barged in. “She’s with me, guys.” Nearly 20 years later, that has become a core memory for me.
Jason Shadrick's Current Obsession:
Thanks to a few musical pit gigs (Kinky Boots and The Sound of Music), I’ve been drilling down on my reading chops. It’s very fulfilling to be tasked to play the exact same thing night after night while a live theater show is happening above your head. There’s no musical issue that 100 gigs can’t fix.
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After The Byrds broke up in 1973, Roger maintained an electric band until 1981, and then began performing solo and has been ever since. Now in his mid-sixties, Roger and Camilla, his wife/road manager, tour in a well-equipped van carrying only the essentials: several guitars, a banjo, and a few electronic devices (he’s always been a lover of gadgetry and collects vintage transistor radios) along with their personal belongings. McGuinn picks and chooses his gigs carefully, avoiding outdoor shows, clubs, bars and church venues. He continues to sell out shows wherever he plays—no simple feat for this folk/rock survivor and member of the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame. I questioned Roger extensively about a possible reformation of The Byrds. Although some of that conversation remains on the cutting room floor, McGuinn’s position is clear. He has no interest in putting the Byrds back together.
Let’s start by discussing your current stage equipment. What are you using right now?
All the guitars I use are signature models, such as the Rickenbacker 370/12/RM— similar to a triple pickup 370—a Martin D12-42/RM and Martin HD-7, the seven string model Martin designed with input from me. I also use a banjo that I got from Bernie Leadon, formerly of The Eagles, and in return I gave him a new Fender Mastertone banjo. It’s a combination of old Vega and Ode banjo parts. It’s one of the best banjos I’ve ever played. I took it to Pete Seeger’s house recently and he played it and gave it his stamp of approval.
You are most closely associated with the Rickenbacker 12-string. Would you tell us how you came to use that guitar in the early days of The Byrds? Also, what that guitar has meant to you as your sonic “signature” over the years?
We went as a group to see A Hard Day’s Night multiple times and were totally taken with The Beatles. I liked George Harrison’s Rickenbacker 12, but I couldn’t find one that looked like his with the pointy cutaways, so I bought the blonde 360 model. I thought it was beautiful, like a golden palomino and the checkerboard binding reminded me of Gene Autry or Roy Rogers. I loved that guitar and played it eight hours a day.
It was later stolen and I discovered that it was auctioned off in England for over $100,000. Given the statute of limitations and the difficulty in dealing with laws in a foreign country, there wasn’t much I could do, even though I considered myself the legal and rightful owner.
Your sound has always been marked by the use of compression on the Rick 12. You used to record directly into the board. What brand of compressor was it?
I don’t know what they used in the Columbia Studios, but I do know they were tube-driven. Using compression was the idea of Ray Gerhardt, one of the house engineers at Columbia. They had no experience working with rock n’ roll bands and were scared we’d blow out their equipment, so they used compression in an attempt to protect themselves! I know they were very nervous about recording us. [Author’s Note: Ray Gerhardt was an award-winning engineer, famed for his work on records by Percy Faith and other easy listening artists of the day.]
How did you recreate your compressed studio tone onstage back in the days when stompboxes were in their infancy?
I never did. Paul Kantner of Jefferson Airplane, who also played a Rickenbacker 12, turned me on to the Vox Treble Booster in 1966. I took the Rick apart and installed it in the guitar. It really was an outboard box that gave me some gain, but no compression. Later, we got a rack compressor that we used on gigs, but in the early days, I couldn’t get compression onstage until we got that rack. I tried all the compressors available, including the Dyna-Comp and the Boss, but didn’t like any of them. Not until Rickenbacker designed my signature guitar with the built-in compressor, did I find one that worked for me.
Were you involved in the design of your onboard compressor?
No, an engineer from Rickenbacker designed it. He left shortly after and went to work for Fender, I think. John Hall could tell you who he was. [Author’s Note: See John Hall sidebar.]
When Rickenbacker stopped producing your signature guitar, that compressor was discontinued along with the guitar. I’m surprised they never marketed a stompbox version of it.
It was the best sounding compressor I ever used until the Janglebox came along. I suppose it was because Rickenbacker is not in the effects business. I did the entire Back From Rio album with that Rick compressor. The Janglebox is now the bestsounding compressor on the market in my opinion—I use it all the time. It’s clean and quiet, and it sounds very close to the built-in one I have in the 370/12/RM. As far as that guitar goes, they produced a thousand and sold every one. John Hall won’t reissue it because he wants to keep the collectible mystique alive, I suppose, but I wish he would reissue it.
Rickenbacker 12-strings have always been finicky instruments. I own a ’92 330-12 with “toaster” pickups with an Amber Fireglo finish. Do you do your own setups and adjustments?
Yes, I do. If you check out my video, The 12 String Guitar of Roger McGuinn on Homespun Tapes, I demonstrate how to do your own neck and action adjustments and string changes.
Although you are most often associated with the Rick 12, you played other guitars with The Byrds. Can you tell us about those instruments and why and how you used them?
I had a Gretsch Country Gentleman strung with flatwound strings that I used on “Have You Seen Her Face”—that was The Beatles’ influence again.
I could have sworn that was a Telecaster.
No, it was a Gretsch. After Fender was taken over by CBS, we got a ton of Fender gear. They gave me a Mastertone banjo, which is the one I traded to Bernie, an electric 12-string that I used in the studio, an acoustic guitar and a Telecaster. I used the Gretsch a lot around the time Gram Parsons was in the band and we recorded Sweetheart Of The Rodeo. The Rickenbacker really didn’t fit too well with the country music we were playing.
I remember seeing you with your later band Thunderbyrd in the mid-seventies, and you played a Rickenbacker Light Show guitar on “Eight Miles High.” Do you still have it? What was it like to play?
I have two of them and they’re fun guitars. The first one I have is no longer in playing condition, but the second one is in pretty good shape. However, I don’t use either of them anymore.
You also had a Rickenbacker Bantar, didn’t you? That was their hybrid instrument that combined a banjo and a guitar, right?
Yes. I actually took that on loan and sent it back. I tried it for a little while, but it wasn’t very useful.
Do you have any other interesting guitars we should know about, and do you consider yourself a collector?
I’m not a collector, but I do have a very nice ’57 Martin 00-21 that I paid $165 for. I’m not permitted to say how many Rickenbackers I own.
How did your signature Martin seven string come about?
Air France broke one of my acoustic 12-strings, so I wanted to condense the characteristics of a six and twelve string into one guitar. We designed a prototype on napkins over lunch and Martin put it into production. It’s now available in a less expensive version. I call it the “Swiss Army Knife” of guitars. It gives me nice bottom end tone, and it’s easy to do bluegrass runs and bend strings.
Over the years, what amps have you used?
In early days of The Byrds, I used an Epiphone with two 10. speakers. We went direct in the studio. Later on, we used Fender Dual Showman amps for live work, which we liked a lot. John Sebastian turned me on to the Roland JC-120, and that was my amp of choice for years. Although it’s a great-sounding amp, I go direct onstage. I use an in-ear monitor and AM wireless. In fact, I start my show offstage, so you can hear me, but not see me. I plug into a Sennheiser wireless, into the Janglebox and then a direct box.
How do you view The Byrds today, after years as a solo artist? When you look back over your time with the band, what are your thoughts and feelings about those days?
It was a lot of fun. We left a great legacy of music. I hear new, young bands all the time that are influenced by The Byrds’ music.
Do you think the music holds up well?
Yes, it does hold up quite well. I’m amazed at the young kids I meet who are into the Byrds’ music, people in their twenties—hippie kids you might say, who like the band.
What are your favorite Byrds tracks?
“Renaissance Fair,” “Time Between,” “Have You Seen Her Face,” “Turn! Turn! Turn!,” “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “So You Want To Be A Rock ‘n Roll Star.” There are a lot of favorites.
Are there any you’d like to forget?
If there are, I’ve forgotten about them! [laughter on both ends]
The Byrds went through many stylistic and personnel changes and pioneered folk rock, psychedelic rock, country rock and even space rock. Which version of the band was your favorite and why?
I don’t have one favorite, but the first version of the band with Gene Clark, David Crosby, Chris Hillman and Michael Clarke was special. We had no money, no day jobs; we were almost starving, but then we had a number one hit with “Mr. Tambourine Man,” and everything took off from there. It was an amazing acceleration to go from nothing to number one. I also liked the later version of The Byrds with Clarence White.
Let’s do a little name association. David Crosby:
Great harmonies.
Chris Hillman: Multi-talented.
Gene Clark:
Wonderful songwriter.
Michael Clarke:
Looked like two of The Rolling Stones.
Clarence White:
Incredible genius.
John Lennon:
A way with words.
George Harrison:
Loved his guitar work.
Bob Dylan:
Great songwriter
You have toured as a solo artist since 1981, but do you ever miss working with a full band?
I play with The Rockbottom Remainders, a band that includes Stephen King, Amy Tan, Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson, Mitch Albom and other writers. We do about 3- 5 charity gigs a year and have a lot of fun doing it. The name of the band pertains to the reject books in the bargain bin that no one wants. I have also gone out occasionally with a trio of Dave Matthews on bass [Author’s Note: Not singer/songwriter Dave Matthews] and Paul Eaton on guitar and banjo.
I saw The Byrds’ version of “Mr. Tambourine Man” on YouTube that was recorded at the Roy Orbison PBS tribute show, and your harmonies with Bob Dylan were so moving. They went straight to my heart. Was Dylan’s walkon appearance planned ahead of time, or did he just stroll onstage on a whim?
That was a pretty cool night. We definitely flew by the seat of our pants! No, Bob’s entrance was planned beforehand. We discussed it backstage in the dressing room. He missed his cue to come out. They had to go find him, I guess, so that’s why he was late entering the stage. Bob is always a delight to work with.
Now, the question I have been waiting to ask you for years: why no Byrds reunion? Chris Hillman has stated that he would do it, and I know Crosby would too.
Chris used to go back and forth on it. When he talked to David he agreed with him. When we talk now, he agrees with me that we shouldn’t. We have a wonderful backlog of songs—a great legacy so why mess with it? I certainly wouldn’t do it for the money. We did another benefit in 2000 with Bonnie Raitt, Jackson Browne and Graham Nash. I’m having too much fun as a solo artist to go through all that again.
You wouldn’t have to do a whole tour, Roger. Would you consider doing just two shows, one on the west coast and one in New York City, just for the fans?
You have our music, your memories and our old film clips on YouTube.
You’ve been releasing your own recordings for years without a record deal and that seems to be the trend today and most likely for the future. What are your feelings on the current state of the music industry?
After I did Back From Rio on Arista, I turned down other record deals because the record industry’s business model is broken. One record executive commented, “I didn’t know Roger McGuinn was so smart.”
Having my own label was something I wanted to do for years. We’ve released several CDs, but I think the record business, i.e. the major labels, are doomed to a slow and painful death. They’re dinosaurs. They loan you a million bucks with advances to keep you in debt, so you never make any royalties. Most bands make their money on live gigs and merchandise and always have.
I never saw a penny in royalties from Arista on Back From Rio, and it sold over a half million copies. I made more money on the Limited Edition CD I released myself than I ever did from them. All a young band needs today is MySpace, Facebook, a website and a blog. They can cut their own CDs with Pro Tools and a Mac and sell them over the Internet or at gigs. You don’t need a record label throwing money your way anymore.
Unfortunately, this trend has also put a lot of recording studios out of business, and that’s a shame.
You’ve always been a fan of gadgetry, so it’s no surprise that you latched onto the internet early on. Do you ever frequent websites dedicated to the Byrds or Rickenbacker guitars?
Once in a while I used to visit forums like allbyrdsmusic.com a lot in the nineties, but things started getting ugly on there.
Any thoughts of slowing down your gig schedule? Is touring and performing still exciting and fulfilling for you?
Not at all, and yes, I still love performing. I’ve stopped doing clubs, bars, outdoor festival-type gigs and church gigs, but I’ll only play theatres and performing arts centers because they’re always well-equipped facilities. It’s still very enjoyable for me to go out and play for people. I travel with my wife and we have friends and fans all over the country. I sell out everywhere and plan to play for the rest of my life.
| John Hall on Roger McGuinn and his Signature Rickenbacker |
I met him in 1965 at The Beatles’ rented house in Hollywood after their Hollywood Bowl concert. That was a real thrill for me. I was fifteen and Roger had several years on me. We became friends and have always had a very cordial relationship. We had a great time building his signature guitar.
Can you tell me how and when the 370/12/RM was developed? I think it was 1988. I contacted Roger to do a limited edition guitar. We had just done the Pete Townshend limited edition, and doing a 12-string with Roger was a natural thing. He had been associated with the Rickenbacker 12-string for so many years. Essentially, we worked together to produce Roger’s dream instrument. He chose features from his standard 370 three pickup model, plus other improvements and upgrades, such as the onboard compressor.
Who designed the compressor in Roger’s guitar?
That was our chief engineer, Bob Desiderio. He left shortly after and went to work for Fender, and I believe he’s still there. Bob also designed the pickups and circuitry for John Kay’s signature model.
I wondered why Rickenbacker never issued the McGuinn compressor as an outboard stompbox?
It wouldn’t have been right to offer something like that after a limited edition guitar had gone out of production.
Any chance you might reissue the 370/12/RM anytime in the future?
Not at the moment. We’re already way behind in our production schedule as it is. We don’t have the manpower to put limited edition reissues into production. I really don’t like reissuing signature guitars, to be honest. It defeats the purpose of an instrument being a limited edition. If Roger wants to work with us to produce a new instrument sometime down the road, we could do that.
| Chris Hillman on Roger McGuinn & The Byrds |
Chris Hillman was the original bass player with The Byrds and also played with Roger McGuinn in the group McGuinn, Clark & Hillman. Chris has worked with Gram Parsons in The Flying Burrito Brothers, with Stephen Stills in Manassas, with the ill-fated super-group Souther, Hillman & Furay, and as a solo acoustic and electric artist. Hillman enjoyed considerable mainstream country music success with The Desert Rose Band in the nineties, and still tours, playing mandolin and flattop acoustic guitar with his musical partner, Herb Pederson. They play an acoustic bluegrass-inspired music. I chatted with Hillman briefly about Roger McGuinn and The Byrds.
How would you describe your relationship with Roger McGuinn?
Roger and I are still friends, in fact, I emailed him for his birthday recently and said we should have lunch and catch up, but of course, he lives in Florida now. I can tell you that Roger was easily the best musician in The Byrds. He’s an extremely talented and meticulous man, and I have nothing but respect for him and always have. Although I enjoy what he’s doing now, I think he’s the type of musician who needed and still needs a catalyst to bring out the best in him. I believe I was that catalyst in The Byrds. He and I finished the Notorious Byrd Brothers album ourselves.
Roger told me point blank that he wouldn’t reform The Byrds. As a lifelong Byrds fan, it would be great to see the three surviving original members together onstage again before I leave this earth.
You’re not going to see it. I totally agree with Roger that we should leave it alone. The Byrds left a great legacy of music and it should remain that way. Besides, both Michael Clarke and Gene Clark are dead, and we both feel the band should be remembered as the Photo: © Bill Kollar five original members.
| Roger’s Gearbox On the road and in the studio:
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Roger McGuinn
rogermcguinn.com