Tag: hurricane

Band of Heathens – Medicine Man

I found this band a few weeks ago, and they have stuck with me. This song I really like because it’s subtle and not in your face, but strong at the same time. A slow groove that hooked me in. Give it a try…you might like it. I think I’ve found a winner. I’m digging into more Texas bands. They have it going on there. 

The band was formed in Austin by Colin Brooks, Ed Jurdi, and Gordy Quist in 2005.  They were built around multiple singers and songwriters. The band’s name originated from a misprint in a local newspaper. The three original singer-songwriters used to perform separate sets at an Austin club called Momo’s on Wednesday nights, billing the show as “The Good Time Supper Club.” A local paper mistakenly listed the act as “The Heathens,” and the name stuck.  

Some songs are bombastic and kick down the door, but this song just walks in easily and uneasily at the same time. It rolls on slowly but with depth. They are doing what they do best, blending Southern rock blues with gospel harmonies.

Musically, this 2011 song breathes. The guitars don’t rush the song whatsoever; they flow like a twig on the shoulders of a mighty stream (Thank you, John Candy for that quote!). The rhythm section keeps things steady but loose, and the groove settles into your bones. You can hear a little of The Band and Little Feat in them, but nothing here feels copied. This is a band that understands dynamics, knowing when to turn up and when to let silence do the talking.

This is some great roots rock. Pour a drink, turn it up just enough, and let it do its work. Cognac or Brandy, anyone?

A BONUS song…Hurricane by The Band of Heathens.

Medicine Man

Across the land, I’m spoken of*Wise as a snake, tame as a doveJust like a wolf, in the sheep’s clothesShake the dust off, before I goI’m your medicine manI’m your medicine manI walk the land never seen beforeI’m on a mission, conquistadorI’ll be your slave, I’ll be your kingI’ll be what you want, be your everythingI’m your medicine manI’m your medicine manGot juju beads and a mojo drumGotta a whole lot more, where that come fromI’ll make a sign, I’ll cross your headMake you shake and dance, Gonna raise the deadI’m your medicine manI’m your medicine manI’ll take your pulse, I’ll fix your healthGive what you need, to save yourselfMight lose your house, might lose your homeBut I’ll give you back more than you have knownPut you in the black, gonna shake your bonesYour healer, your dealer, your only oneI’m your medicine manI’m your medicine man

Love Valley Rock Festival…1970

By the summer of 1970, the spirit of Woodstock was still echoing across the American counterculture, and a small mountain town in North Carolina decided it wanted a piece of that magic, or at least its own funky version. Enter: the Love Valley Rock Festival, an improbable blend of peace, pot, rock ‘n’ roll… and cowboys. It went down in July 1970 like a haywire Southern cousin to Woodstock, with more horses, and a whole lotta Allman Brothers.

What a festival this was, and what a town it still is. It happened in Love Valley, North Carolina. The headliners were The Allman Brothers, who at that time only had one album out and were largely unknown to the masses. This huge festival was soon known as Woodstock South.  Between 100,000 and 200,000 showed up.

A man named Andy Barker always wanted to live in a western town. At the age of 29, he purchased some land in 1954 and relocated his family there. The land was in Iredell County, and he built the town, which was chartered in 1963. It has a saloon, hitching posts, a small church, and more. No cars are allowed in town…you can walk or ride a horse through.

It’s the place for riding horses, rodeos, and hiking trails with 2000 acres to cover. The population of Love Valley is currently 96. Through the years, it seems to stay around 100.

Love Valley: The Town Where Cars Aren't Allowed, Only HorsesLove Valley, NC - Town With No Cars, Only Horses

In 1969, Andy’s daughter Tonda wanted to go to Woodstock, but he thought she was too young. So he asked her and her 16-year-old brother, Jet Barker, to organize a festive concert in Love Valley. While in college, she had worked with an entertainment coordinator at the college and knew the ropes. She managed to secure the Allman Brothers Band, who at the time were known in the south but that is about it. They also got some more local bands to fill it out…it was a large bill. It took place on Thursday, July 16-18, 1970.

One interesting thing that happened was that the Hell’s Angels and Outlaws showed up to do battle with each other. According to witnesses, Andy Barker stopped them and confiscated a chain and ax from each and told them there would be no trouble here. They seemed to respect this man because after that, the gangs dispersed, and some camped out with no reported trouble. The festival went off without any major hitches.

Tonda: “It was perfect, it was like a dream. We had worked so hard and we could finally just sit down and enjoy it.”

Andy planned to make a documentary of it, but it didn’t happen. All we have to look at is some grainy footage, but that grainy footage shows Duane Allman a year before At Fillmore East was released. They were finishing up their second album, Idlewild South, at this time. Some very nice bootlegs are out there from their multiple sets.

Along with the Allman Brothers, the line up consisted of these bands: Big Brother and the Holding Company (without Janis), Radar, Peace Core, Wet Willie, Johnny Jenkins, Tony Joe White, Hampton Grease Band, Donnydale, Catfish Freedom, Sundown, Chakra, Hot Rain, Kallabash, Warm Stone Blind, Captain John’s Fishmarket. There were over 40 bands over that weekend.

Some, like Wet Willie, would go on to have a few hits. Tony Joe White had a top ten hit with Polk Salad Annie the year before.

The Love Valley Festival doesn’t get the press that Altamont or even Atlanta Pop did. There’s no movie, no official recordings, no box set retrospective. Just faded photos, whispered stories, and a ghost-town memory of the time the South went psychedelic under the watchful eye of a cowboy mayor with a dream.

It’s part of what makes digging through this era so damn fun. Not all the magic happened on the coasts. Sometimes it galloped in on horseback, plugged into a wall of amps, and raised a little hell in the Carolina hills.

Ed Buzzell was a UPI stringer and took these photographs…they are amazing. They don’t show many bands…just the people…you feel like you are there. (Unfortunately, Ed Buzzell or someone else took them down.) If you know where they are now, or if they are anywhere, please let me know in the comments.