The bass line at the beginning of the song is iconic. The best version of this one is the live cut. Whipping Post was one of the first songs Gregg Allman wrote for the Allman Brothers. That bass intro has a time signature of 11/8…not a common one to use.
He was staying with friends and thought of the lyrics but could not find a pencil and paper so he wrote the lyrics on an ironing board with burnt matches in the middle of the night. He had to be quiet and not wake up his friend’s child. He caught hell for messing up the ironing board but I think it was worth it.
The Allman Brothers…much like the Grateful Dead could deliver live. They constantly toured early in their careers and played free concerts in parks all over to grow their audience. They released one of the best live albums of all time with At Fillmore East. Money wasn’t the thing…they built a grassroots following and they were probably more popular in New York than anywhere else for this southern band.
The song was originally on their debut album The Allman Brothers Band and it peaked at #188. A live version was on the At Fillmore East album and it peaked at #13 on the Billboard Album Charts and #44 in Canada in 1971.
Frank Zappa would sometimes cover this song live.
This is Gregg Allman from the book “My Cross to Bear”
So that first night, I laid me down to go to sleep on my attic couch, and I dozed off for a while. All of a sudden I woke up, because a song had me by the ass. The intro had three sets of three, and two little steps that allowed you to jump back up on the next triad. I thought it was different, and I love different things. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I wish the rest of them had come like this—it was all right there in my head, all I had to do was write it down so I wouldn’t forget it by the morning.
I started feeling around for a light switch, but I couldn’t find one anywhere. I was in my sock feet; I just had on my drawers and a T-shirt. I found my way into the kitchen and it was pitch-dark. I had my hands out and I touched an ironing board—thank goodness, instead of tripping over it, which would’ve made a terrible noise.
I was feeling all around the counters for a piece of paper. I couldn’t find any paper or a pencil anywhere, but I did find a box of kitchen matches. A car happened to go by, and its lights flashed long enough to allow me to see that red, white, and blue box. I knew I could use the matches to write with, because I had diddled around enough with art to know that charcoal would work.
I figured the ironing board cover would work as a pad, so I’d strike a match, blow it out, use the charcoal tip to write with, and then strike another one. I charted out the three triads and the two little steps, and then I went to work on the lyrics:
“I’ve been run down, and I’ve been lied to …”
I got it all down on that ironing board cover, in the closest thing to shorthand as I could muster up. I was really proud that I didn’t wake Brittany up. The next morning, Hop raised so much fucking hell with me about that ironing board cover, but it worked out, and we got “Whipping Post” down that day…
The seldom-heard studio version.
Whipping Post
I’ve been run down and I’ve been lied to.
And I don’t know why, I let that mean woman make me a fool.
She took all my money, wrecks my new car.
Now she’s with one of my good time buddies,
They’re drinkin in some cross-town bar.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whippin’ post.
Tied to the whippin’ post, tied to the whippin’ post.
Good Lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.
My friends tell me, that I’ve been such a fool.
But I had to stand by and take it baby, all for lovin’ you.
Drown myself in sorrow as I look at what you’ve done.
But nothing seemed to change, the bad times stayed the same,
And I can’t run.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whippin’ post.
Tied to the whippin’ post, tied to the whippin’ post.
Good Lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whippin’ post.
Tied to the whippin’ post, tied to the whippin’ post.
Good Lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.
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