I guess I’m spoiled. I can’t seem to shake the feeling that Daytona Beach has slipped into the abyss. It happens to me a lot anymore. Ever since I stopped drinking almost a quarter of a century ago, I’m less willing to settle.
Floyd sang his heart out, even though he was not feeling super duper. I think his sugar was slightly outa whack. He is a phenomonal soul man; a true entertainer. He had 2 guitars, bass, drums and a horn section.
So BigJeff…why so grumpy? The mix was terrible for one thing. The bass was so loud and boomy that it was headache material, and I’m a bass player for God’s sake. There was obviously some tension on stage, although it wasn’t obvious to anyone but me. None of my friends noticed. But Floyd himself wasn’t loud enough.
When I briefly spoke to Jerry (lead guitarist) he didn’t want to say. But his brother the bassman was not there having just received a new kidney.
I won’t complain about my aches & pains anymore…
So I really should know better, it was a free concert after all and nobody was fighting, but there was too many reminders for me of a whole lifestyle I have abandoned. When I’m by myself I can move among the dregs of society without a second thought.
I was however with the best looking female there and she was distracted by a 300 lb. scantily clad, drunken woman gyrating on the walk next to us smoking a cigarette and trying to seduce an equally drunk tatooed biker with no teeth.
The wonderful thing was the crowd was mixed racially, mostly older and the dregs, though present, were not the defining factor. The drummer kept it all together. The horns were cooking and the affection between Big Floyd Miles and Jerry Henby (lead guitarist) was obvious.
They ended with “Going Back To Daytona” and the whole world danced in front of the stage. It was a smoking finale and a reminder of the great R&B talent of the local soul great who taught Greg Allman how to sing the BLUES!