Dan Toler with Dickey Betts- photo by Frank White

In 2009, Relix celebrated The Allman Brothers Band’s 40th anniversary with a series of featured devoted to the legendary group’s history. At that time Relix spoke with guitarist “Dangerous” Dan Toler about his tenure with the band for a piece that explored the ABB’s “lost years” in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. Toler – who played guitar with The Allman Brothers from the late ‘70s-1982 – also discussed his work with both Gregg Allman and Dickey Betts’ solo groups. His brother David “Frankie” Toler also performed with The Allman Brothers Band for a few years around the release of 1981’s Brothers of the Road.

Dan Toler passed away in late February after struggling with Lou Gehrig’s disease. In honor of The Allman Brothers Band guitarist, we present our complete conversation with Toler for the first time.

You first entered The Allman Brothers Band extended family as a member of Dickey Betts’ Great Southern during one of the Brothers’ hiatuses. Can you walk us through when you officially joined The Allman Brothers Band?

I think we started with rehearsals in late ‘75 and then the first album got underway in ’76. Boy, what a fun thing to have happen to you in life. I was living in – well, I’m in Florida now – but I was… this was 1975 in the latter part of the year. My wife and I didn’t have much money and I was playing [music] making three bucks a night in some of the clubs down here and we didn’t have enough money to have a phone in our apartment. We had a little apartment that we were paying [for], like 400 bucks a month, and it cost her everything she had to pay for it. But times were tough and the guys that I was supposed to join a band with when I came down to Florida from Indiana broke up and two of them went on to join up with Dickey [Betts] and Great Southern.

The drummer said, “I’ll get you an audition,” and I’m going, “Yeah, right.” So one day I was walking back and forth to the pool from my apartment and there happened to be a phone booth right outside of our apartment front door. It was ringing and I just walked on by and didn’t even pay attention to it, I mean it rang a lot all the time anyway. But for some reason I just happened to pick it up after about three trips walking by it going to the pool, and said, “Hello.” And somebody said [Laughs], this guy says, “Is Dan Toler there?” And I said, “Yeah, you got him.” And he said, “This is Dickey Betts,” and I said, “Yeah, right ,” and hung the phone up. And then I got to thinking about two seconds later, “I think I made a big mistake, I wonder if that really was Dickey!” Fortunately the phone rang again and I picked it up and I said hello and he said, “Is this Dan?” and I said, “Yeah,” [and] he said, “This is Dickey, don’t hang up,” and I said, “Hey man, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to do it; I just didn’t believe it was you. Is this really you?” And he said, “Yeah, I want you to come up and audition for my band.” And boy, I mean I started shaking. “Really?! Ok!” And so, he said, “I got you a plane flight for tonight.” And I said, “Oh, ok! My god, ok!”

So I missed my flight, I got lost getting into the Tampa airport, I’d never been in there before. I got a later flight that evening and got into Dickey’s place up on the Allman Brothers farm, just outside of Macon, Georgia. There was like a five mile gravel road going up to the top of the mountain there where he lived. And you could hear the band playing through the forest there, you know, through the woods, and I’m going, ” Man, that guitar sure sounds damn good.” And so I get up there and walked in and met everybody and shook everybody’s hands again and I walked over to Dickey, and he said, “Hey, I’m Dickey,” and I said, “Hey man, I’m Dan,” and I sat down and we started playing. He said, “You know, there’s a song we do called ‘Southbound.’” I said, “I don’t know it, but let me hear it.” And I started twinning the end of it along with him and he said, “Well, I don’t think I need to look any further, you’ll work.” I said, “I got the gig?!” And he said, “Yeah,” and I said, “When do I get my first check?” [Laughs.]

That actually brings me up to another question. How familiar were you with the material at that point?

Not at all! I mean the next night we went to Atlanta and played a gig and [Dickey] said, “We’re going to do ‘Jessica,’ do you know that?” And I said, “Never heard it!” And he was looking at me for twin parts and I had no idea what to do. So I was just pretty much petrified and I started listening to the records the next day big time. I said, “Oh my god, I’m in trouble. I’ve got a lot of work to do,” so I busted my butt and it wasn’t long after that we started writing the first Great Southern album and rehearsing a lot and it was great! I was just a young guy, something like 28 years old, and I believe Dickey was somewhere around 33. I think Dickey’s five years older than me and he’s 65 now. So we just hit it off, we gelled. I moved into his house, things just started happening and the next thing you know, we are writing guitar parts live at gigs and things were actually working. We were getting some exciting harmonies going and people were going nuts over it. And believe me, bro, I was in hog heaven. It was a lot of fun. And I mean, I go from making three bucks a night to 300 a week! [Laughs.] It was quite exciting.

Then we did the first Great Southern album and then in ‘78 – I believe it was ‘78 or early ’79 – we did the _Atlanta’s Burning Down_ album with Dickey and Great Southern and then in ‘79, we’re playing in Central Park, New York one night and somebody came up to me and said, “I think I saw Gregg Allman.” And I said, “Get out of here! He’s not supposed to be here.” And I hadn’t even met Gregg. I had met Duane [Allman] back in ‘69 when I was in a band called Melting Pot, but I had not met Gregg, and sure enough, we’re playing and all of a sudden, Butch [Trucks] comes on stage to sit in and Jaimoe comes up and sits in, and then all of a sudden Gregg Allman walks across the stage and I went, “Well, I’ll be damned, I can’t believe that.” And the crowd went absolutely insane. And so, I think that was the beginning of the first reunion of the Allman Brothers, and that particular night, John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd were there and we all went to a place called Trax in New York City and hung out and it was great. Fantastic.

Let’s talk about that Central Park gig, which in a lot of ways the beginning of the second era of the band’s career. Would you say that things just naturally progressed from the reunion or did you have to re-audition to be in the band?

Well, yeah. There was basically a re-audition but I don’t recall any other guitar players being there for it. Basically, the band is kind of political in the respect of hiring guys. Dickey was in control of who was going to play guitar with him, Gregg’s in control of who’s going to play piano, and the drummers were in control of who was going to be the bass player, kind of like that. And so I’d been working with Dickey for four years prior to

Mike Lawler, Dave Goldflies, Gregg Allman, Butch Trucks, Dickey Betts, Dan Toler, Dave Toler

What was the vibe like? Was it kind of like just going from clubs to arenas pretty quickly?

Well, yeah. I mean, I did that when I joined Dickey’s band. We played a few big places, Mile High Stadium and some shows like that, and the Palladium in New York and overseas, Rainbow Theatre in London and the Old Grey Whistle Test back then, I don’t know if it still exists today or not. But then we also played the Rockpalast Festival, I think we went on at three or four in the morning, which was prime time and it was prime for us too! [Laughs.] But it was kind of like that. And even from going from Great Southern into the Allman Brothers, it was no more clubs; it was all big shows. And that was neat too, but, after a while, [even though] the money’s great, you get kind of distanced from the crowd. Because the venues are so big and it seems like a lot of times there was a barrier in front of the stage where the people can’t really get up to you as much. Then a lot of police start enforcing power and try to keep people back and that becomes a mess at times, but you kind of lose touch with people. And so we were talking about how it would be nice to be able to play a smaller place so that you could get a closer, one-on-one relationship with the people and kind of work with the fans during the shows. But that didn’t happen a whole lot with the Brothers. But when the Brothers broke up and the Gregg Allman Band formed the day after the Brothers broke up–

Really? They were the next day?

Yes. We felt like that whole thing was over and apparently it was. It ended up being that way, unfortunately, over a political thing that I really can’t talk about. We instantly [developed] a close relationship with the crowd with the Gregg Allman Band because the Brothers were over and we were trying to get record deals with Gregg. Every record company passed on us three times for three years and they wouldn’t take a chance on Gregg because of his history with drugs and alcohol. They all felt that he had writer’s block, but we stuck to our ground and we kept scrapping and clawing, and we finally got a deal with Epic.

And then Gregg had his biggest hit.

Yes! And the I’m No Angel album was born and all of a sudden Gregg’s career was reborn. The next thing you know, we’re hitting big shows, working a lot with Stevie Ray [Vaughan] and people like that. Stevie was just one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever worked with in my life, and what a classy guy. So we did a lot of shows with Stevie, and a lot of festivals. We never really did any big arenas with the exception of the Pontiac Silverdome. We did that one day and had to fly to Nashville from there to do another show that night, so we were using backline gear up at the Silverdome. It was kind of a mess but that was one of the biggest ones we did with the Gregg Allman Band. That was a killer band and a lot of fun.

We kind of jumped ahead a little bit here, but going back to the years you were with the Allmans, can you talk a little bit about those times or any of the particular gigs that stick out in your mind? You recorded three albums together as well?

We did three albums and Enlightened Rogues, of course, was with Tom Dowd as producer, and that was just absolutely a ball, hanging with Tom. He was a brilliant man and very knowledgeable in the music world of course, and everybody loved him. If you didn’t like Tom Dowd, there was something wrong with you. He was just a beautiful person. To me, a producer’s job is to make the individual musician feel comfortable and feel like he’s actually pouring out his heart for the product. That’s what I love about him so much as a producer. Tom had a way of getting that out of you and getting what he wanted from you and making you feel like you created it. He was just a master at that. As you can tell, like what he did with the Derek & The Dominos album, I mean my goodness. The feels and the solos and everything that came to be in that album was just a monster.

Yeah, he’s one of those rare producers who’s a rock star himself.

Absolutely. Then the second album was Reach for the Sky. It was either that one or Brothers of the Road.

I think Brothers of the Road was the last one you guys did together.

Yes. “Two Rights” I think is what it is? “Two rights don’t make up one wrong,” or something?

What had happened in the Brothers, when we played shows, basically the record company and producers would try to modernize the band and make us sound Top 40 as much as possible, try to get a – quote, a hit song – and it was a really hard thing to do from that band. The band played for three hours. We played 8 to 10 songs in three hours and we went from doing that to playing 19 songs in an hour and a half. My god, I mean, to me it was like “Elizabeth Reed,” one solo, bam! Hit the amp, we’re out of here. And, you know, “Jessica” was shortened, “Ramblin’ Man” seemed shortened, all the tunes that have that life and the legacy of being a long song that’s jammed out seemed like it just didn’t exist anymore in that band. We basically turned that back around and went back to the longer songs in the last year, but that just didn’t work and unfortunately, Reach for the Sky and Brothers of the Road didn’t have as much success as Enlightened Rogues, but I think that a lot of that is due to production and material. Of course, Phil Walden was pretty smart about being able to get a song on the radio and getting an album promoted. There were a lot of brilliant people behind that company. But it was a great experience for me, I learned a lot about how to perform, how to try to get the best out of a tune, the best out of a solo, to try to get people into your palm of your hand, so to speak, to be able to take them some place and, you know, not leave them out to hang and bring them back and that kind of thing, but it was a lot of fun.

You mention improvisation, which is kind of the core of the Relix scene, would you say that kind of informed your improvisational abilities a lot [and] your own style of guitar playing?

Oh, I’ve always been interested in improvisation, for sure. You know, just being able to stretch, play your head, has always been my love. Sometimes it just takes some bands a little longer to say what they want to say [Laughs]. But when we tried to go back to the long jams, it didn’t seem like it was accepted as much as what it was. I don’t know if it was because we tried to go to the shorter shows and more, as what they call, professional, or whatever, I don’t know. But that band is known for its jams. I mean, if you go see The Allman Brothers Band, I have not seen the band in a few years, I’ve seen Derek [Trucks] and Warren [Haynes], of course, at different jams and stuff, but they don’t come down this way very much and it seems like the last two times they’ve been close down here, Tampa, I believe, I was in Indiana both times so I’ve missed them. So I really haven’t had the chance to see them lately, but I understand, of course I know, how Derek plays, he’s just absolutely kicking butt these days. I’m really proud of that guy. Everybody was worried about him when he was really young, “What’s he going to develop into? Of course he can play these Duane licks but what’s going to happen?” And he really has shined and I’ve very proud to know him and to have known him since he was about eight years old. His dad is just a great guy and I love him to death. But I don’t see them that much, I don’t get to see them enough, you know? When you get older, I don’t know how old you are young man, but–

You’ll find out that when you get older, a lot of your friends that you’ve run around with and stuff, when you split up and go different ways and do things, you just lose contact. I mean, I started playing with Dickey again in 2002. And prior to rejoining the band, I hadn’t talked to Dickey in 11 years. We live in the same town, but I had not seen him. I mean there were just so many times I’d be out playing somewhere and he’d be on the road. Once in a great while we’d run across each other, “Let’s go play golf!” And I’ve only beat him about two times and I want to beat him again, I need to get him again. He’s up on me, I gotta get back even. [Laughs.]

Dan Toler and Dickey Betts

*It’s funny when you see people you know and it’s like, “Hey, let’s get a game of golf.” *

[Laughs.] It should be, “Hey man, let’s get together and write a song!” Now it’s, “What kind of clubs you using?”

From guitars to clubs.

[Laughs.] Well, you know, Dickey was notorious for throwing guitars and I guess he can swing clubs and hang on to them now. [Laughs.] But all in all, there were good times and bad times, you know, I guess there is with every band. If not then there’s something wrong, either that or something’s just perfectly right and I don’t know if you could stand to live like that too long. But I’m hoping there’s no enemies here, I mean there shouldn’t be, we played together for years and known each other for years.

I don’t think there are.

I certainly had a lot of fun. I know in the golfing world I can honestly say that I believe I beat Butch every time we played. I was tickled to death about that, but of course his face would get red and he’d get mad and stuff. He’d throw his club and I’d say something like, “Hey, Butchy, the club went farther than the ball!” And he’d get really mad, but oh man, we had a ball. We were competitive and I loved that about playing with Butch. ‘Cause he kept trying, he was hard-nosed at it and that was cool. That was before Dickey even played. That’d probably be one of the shortest books in history – the history of The Allman Brothers’ golf swings.

In the mid-80s, The Allman brothers Band reunited for two big shows. I heard one was a Bill Graham show and there was another benefit. Could you talk about those shows? Was that the same lineup as in the early ‘80s?

That was in the ‘80s during the I’m No Angel band lineup. Yeah, and that was at Madison Square Garden with a Bill Graham show and oh man, Bill Graham, what a great dude.

Bill was something. I had the – well, I don’t know if you can say the pleasure – but I happened to be around Bill one day when he just ate a roadie’s butt for lunch. It was not a pretty scene and you could really see the fire in Bill. This poor guy, man, was almost crying. It was something. He had control and he was a king in the business. But that Crackdown show was really cool. I made a stupid statement that night to somebody and said, “Well, we don’t have to worry about the crack being in the crowd, it’ll be backstage.” Of course, I’ve never even seen it let alone done it, but I soon ate my words because that backstage area was the cleanest. I guarantee you there wasn’t one soul in there that had anything. It was unbelievable. Carlos Santana was there and Stephen Stills and Mick Taylor and Paul Butterfield, God rest his soul. [Paul] came out and we gave each other a big hug and I told him I loved him and he said the same thing. He was just a great guy and what a player. He’s been gone now for probably 15 years or so? Bill died in the early 90’s, and when was it Stevie died? Something right around there, and I think Bill died in ‘91 or ’92 and both of them died from helicopter crashes. Oh my god, I’m telling you. But that show was just intense. The crowd was magnificent and we all jammed with all of us on stage. I got a picture of it, it’s really cool.

Was that show with the Gregg Allman Band or was that the Allman Brothers?

That was actually a reuniting of the Allman Brothers, although my brother, David Frankie Toler, played drums with Butch.

He was in the band for a few years in the ‘80s as well, right?

Yeah, as a matter of fact he was in the first Great Southern for the Atlanta’s Burning Down album. He was on Brothers of the Road with the Allman Brothers and then in the entire run of the Gregg Allman Band.

Which included the big reunion show at the Garden?

Yes. My brother played on that and we also used our bass player from the Gregg Allman Band at the Garden, Bruce Waibel.

Then you went out on the road with Dickey, Gregg and you guys as well, right?

Yep, we did. Did you ever see that?

I didn’t actually, but I’ve heard many stories about how that was kind of the beginning of the reconciliation between Dickey and Gregg.

Right. At first, it was the Dickey Betts Band and then the Gregg Allman Band would play, and then a bunch of us would get together and play some old Allman Brothers stuff as a third show. People got off on it big time, it was pretty cool. Then after a while, Dickey didn’t have a band with him and so we would play and then Dickey would come out and join us for a second set and we’d do a lot of his tunes and then some ABB stuff. We tore it up everywhere we went, bro! You know, people have loved it for years and years and seem to continue to do that, although still – I know that ABB’s a good band now – but still, it’s just not the same without Dickey.

I mean any of the guys that have been playing could be me or Derek or Warren or Jimmy or anybody playing the other guitar, but it doesn’t seem the same without Dickey, you know? He brought that country flavor into everything and made it work. Good, bad or indifferent, everybody has a bad day, you know? There’s no doubt about it. I mean, he wrote the only actual hit the band had [ “Rambling Man” ].

His guitar playing set the pace for the sound of The Allman Brothers Band for years. There were a lot of people that came up and did Duane impersonations and that kind of stuff. That was one thing, but I feel Dickey’s style and sound were very dominant in that band. For years it was the statement of the band, actually, even more so than Gregg’s voice. Ironically, I had the pleasure of playing a gig at the benefit with Gregg’s son, Michael. Yeah, well there’s a few of them around now [Laughs]. Oh my goodness, that guy was something else. Something else.