Saturday, May 23
PITTSFIELD — There was little doubt what sort of show Dickey Betts had planned for his appearance at the Colonial Theatre Wednesday night; after all, the tour itself was dubbed the "Ramblin' Man Tour," after Betts' iconic 1973 hit that still serves as a sentimental centerpiece of Allman Brothers Band shows, a decade after the songwriter was forced to leave the group.

So Dickey Betts and Great Southern delivered a generous show stocked reliably with some of the golden chestnuts Betts supplied the Allmans' catalog during the 30 years, off and on, he was a mainstay with the band.

Betts' sound is imprinted in the DNA of that Rock and Roll Hall of Fame-inducted band, which still gets great legs from Betts' work as the Allmans remain an annual force on the amphitheater circuit, with three founding members in tow plus a quartet of newer additions.

On this night in Pittsfield, though, fans got a chance to hear a cluster of classic rock radio favorites delivered by their author and his road- tested band, one that couldn't help evoking Allmans-like signifiers, from the superficial (keyboard player Mike Kach looks like he's dressed as a young Greg Allman for Halloween) to the systemic (the presence of two drummers).

  • Betts' trademark, melodic guitar lines were in full effect throughout the two-set, three hour-plus

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    show. The first set included favorites like "Statesboro Blues" (with rhythm guitarist Andy Aledort playing some nice slide guitar) and an eloquent "Blue Sky," complete with paint-peeling solo from Betts (who was mostly sharp all night), before closing with the euphoric, three-guitar salute of "Jessica."

    Betts and band burst through the gates breathing fire in the second set, with a satisfying "Nobody Knows" featuring a spacious, relaxed jam. Betts' work is informed by the blues without being straitjacketed by its structure; this was one of several jams this night propelled by a loose, funky shuffle and teeth-cutting instrumental chops, which reserved the right to take a detour here or there but never threatened to dissolve into star-gazing noodling. Betts found the chance to play quotes from The Beatles' "Norwegian Wood" before bringing things around for a closing verse.

    Kach handled vocal duties for this and a few others; Betts only occasionally lends lead vocals, and for one song turned his microphone over to son Duane, featured all night on second guitar and first guitar-face.

    All night the vocals sounded thin and low in the mix, though whether that was actually due to Betts' failing voice or the others' straining capabilities, I couldn't tell. (Bassist Pedro Arevalo's vocal turn, on a first set blues chestnut, was most appreciated.)

    "Nobody Knows" hopped without pause into heavyweight champ "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed," which twisted and turned from smoky moodscape to melodic jubilation before the band left the stage to drummer/percussionists Frankie Lombardi and James Varnado.

    The institutionalized "drum jam" always strikes me as forced and gratuitous; more a chance for the rest of the band to take an offstage break than anything else. But before things got too ponderous, Lombardi was the first to return to the stage, and led a surprisingly melodic jam before Betts and company returned to put a triumphant wrap on the song.

  • The cathartic "No One Left to Run With" served as a sweet dessert, and of course Betts couldn't leave town without leaving a souvenir "Ramblin' Man" behind.

    The song, like the show itself, was like comfort food — pleasing, filling, but not too surprising. The apparently ecstatic crowd of sated fans didn't find any revelations, but then again that's not what they were looking for.