Sunday, May 28, 2017

"The only way we made it was with a great big old bag of Mexican reds and two gallons of Robitussin HC. Five reds and a slug of HC and you can sleep through anything."

"The accent comes up out of Nashville, by way of Georgia, makes a dash across the States and ends up vaguely California. He sounds a bit like Kris Kristofferson; looks uncannily like his late brother, Duane. The hotel television is on; the sound is off. It is late, and the black and white movie – something surely about horror and death at this small hour – glows up on Gregg Allman's tired face like a moonscape in Macon's Rose Hill Cemetery."

Greg Allman has died, and while the obituaries are worth a look, so is this 1973 essay by Cameron Crowe for Rolling Stone.

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