Allen David Archives — San Francisco Bay Guardian Archive 1966

Live Shots: Aerosmith and Cheap Trick at the Oracle Arena

Tony Robles

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August 6, 2012

Photographer Allen David was front and center for Aerosmith and Cheap Trick’s joint concert at the Oracle Arena. Check out his photos and read his thoughts on all the good time rock’n’roll — and action in the pit — in the story below.

Last week I was asked to shoot some photos of Aerosmith and Cheap Trick at the Oracle Arena. I was quite excited at the prospect of hanging out back stage with some of the great rock stars of my youth. When I was 13, I had the privilege of experiencing Cheap Trick in their prime at Six Flags Magic Mountain. And I remember as a kid watching Aerosmith’s cameo in one of my favorite films; Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978). They played rock’n’roll villains, who nearly destroyed the the Bee Gees and Peter Frampton, with their rendition of Come Together.

After shooting some photos elsewhere, I jumped in my VW Bus and hit the pedal to the metal. I was running a little late, and worried that I wouldn’t get into the show. Thankfully, I arrived just in time, and was escorted backstage, where I exchanged glances with Robin Zander.

Next, I was put directly in front of the stage, in The Pit. Which was a great place to view the action, as the rock stars were perfuming their jests within arms reach. Without earplugs, I snapped away, as Rick Nielsen, Tom Petersson, and Robin Zander rocked out right in front of me. Sadly Bun E. Carlos escaped my camera, by hiding behind his drum kit. It was amazing to watch these guys live, 30 years after my last experience with them. They still played the same music, and rocked equally as hard. I would have loved to talk with them about what it’s like to spend so many years reliving their classic tunes.

After the first three songs I had to leave the pit, to give the front row peeps a better view. So for the rest of the Cheap Trick show, I ventured around the tunnels of the Oracle ’till I found the snack booth, and made it into the audience.

Just before Aerosmith came on stage, I was allowed back into The Pit to click photos for their first three songs. Steve Tyler and Joe Perry are super great for shooting photos. They dress, and move like true rock stars, making my job as a photographer super easy. Steven Tyler’s presence on the edge of the stage seemed to mesmerize every person that he came close to.

He had complete control of the audience. I got to click away as they played three of their classics: “Draw the Line,” “Love in an Elevator,” and “Same Old Song and Dance.” I couldn’t help but nod my head like a parrot, as the rock’n’roll rhythms moved though my body. Sadly after three songs, I was ushered out of The Pit, to give the audience a better view of what they paid to witness. I walked out of the back door, and found my VW Bus still there at the edge of the parking lot, and drove home, while reminiscing about the good old days of rock’n’roll.

Tobacco-free cigarettes and Alika: Reggae on the River, through a lens

Andrew Lam

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July 30, 2012

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Last week I decided it would be fun to check out Reggae on the River for the first time. I called up my brother DJ Guacamole to see if he’d like to come along, only to discover that he was DJing the late-night dancehall dome at Cooks Valley Campground. Without any further hesitation I jumped in my vintage Beemer and headed up to Sebastopol to meet up with him and his DJ buddy, Jacques of WBLK. Luckily for me, Jacques and Guac are well-connected in the NorCal reggae scene. We piled our stuff in Guac’s van, I stuffed myself into the rear seat between sleeping bags and coolers full of Guinness. Three hours later we were greeted by Guac’s dreaded friend in charge, Chris Tafari. He set us up with an awesome campsite just behind the dome stage.

The next morning, I woke up to scores of cars whose inhabitants were all trying to score the ideal camp spot. It was kinda like the frontier land rushes of the 1800s. Some of the most coveted spots were on the edge of the crystal-clear Eel River. It was that perfect temp that severs any hangover you might be tempted to throw its way. My first splash in the river helped washed away my puffy morning eyes like magic.

While cooling off in the water, I was soothed with the electro-dubstep sounds of Sacramento DJ J-Dubs from the River stage. I met a nice guy who offered me a sample of his hand-rolled, tobacco-free cigarette. Not being a smoker, I was quite hesitant, but seeing that I was at a reggae fest, I figured I’d better see what this stuff is all about. I took a little puff, and realized that the music playing in the background seemed to get a little clearer — and my social skills got a little foggier.

On Saturday I rode a crowded party shuttle to the main festival site. While strolling around the festival, sipping on my Bob Marley coffee, I walked past the vendor booths separating the two main stages. For the shoppers of the world, this festival was a paradise of red, gold, and green accessories.

I was sweetly surprised when I reached the main stage to find the soulful sounds of veteran singer Calypso Rose. She has a confidence and grace that has been built over the greater part of a century. Later in the day I witnessed the much-anticipated Alika, who came all the way from Argentina to tour around the US with her monumental style of Latin reggae. I really enjoyed that her band Quinto Sol — with this mix of music, there’s no way to stop dancing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEYFLu3ShNc&feature=fvwrel

Back at the late-night dancehall dome, I watched as Guacamole and Jacques lured people from their afternoon naps to the dancefloor. Eventually, the dome was filled with couples grinding their bodies to the dancehall beats. I really loved the singing of Cocoa Tea and Norris Man. And the great DJ sounds of Jah Warrior Shelter and Silverback. I even got to listen to the great beats of Selecta Konnex, as the sun came up over the Eel River.

Eventually Monday rolled around, and we had to head back to Sebastopol, but no fear. The Monday after, we were treated to a special WBLK show with Alika and DJ Stepwise at the Hopmonk Tavern.

Life is great for a photographer.

High summer: Shots from Quincy and the High Sierra Music Festival

Andrew Lam

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July 16, 2012

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Ever wonder what it’s like to be a festival photographer? Allen David has been going to camping festivals in California for decades. He sent us over action shots from the July 5-8 High Sierra Music Festival, and wrote up his bird’s eye view of the Quincy, Calif. happenings — including his assessment of Hasidic reggae-rapper Matisyahu’s child-rearing skills

Last week, I packed up my vintage Beemer with all my camping needs; beers and crazy clothes. My trusty camera and I were headed up to High Sierra Music Festival in Quincy.

My drive took me up State Route 70 along the Feather River, one of my favorite places to cruise in California. Whenever you feel too hot, there is always a spot to pull over and cool off in the churning river. At sunset I reached the will call booth and waited in line with other festival revelers to earn my entry into a weekend filled with music, dancing, drinking, and debauchery.

My first mission after gaining entry was to meet up with Matisyahu for a brief interview. I was running late. Finally backstage, I found his publicist, who told me that Matisyahu was wandering around the festival with his two young boys. He said to stick around for a while, and Matisyahu would eventually show up. I waited with my friend Rachel for about a half-hour, ’til we were really starting to crave beers. But as we were leaving the bandstand we saw a very tall, clean-cut young man walking towards us with two young boys holding his hands. I asked him if he was Matisyahu. He was.

Maybe it was because his kids were running around our feet, but our conversation revolved around fatherhood. He’s quite a dad. The way he encouraged his young sons seemed to empower them — the eldest sang us a song while sitting on dad’s lap. Half way through, Matisyahu began to back his son up with some of the greatest beatboxing I’ve heard.

After our chat, my friend Rachel and I found the rest of our friends from the Samba Stilt Circus camped in a barn, which had a slight smell of pigs and horses. After some thorough investigation we found a stall that didn’t smell too bad, and made it our weekend home.

My favorite act of the whole week was a band I never had heard of before. I was spending time at shower camp (the camp that operates free showers for all fest-goers) with one of my best buds, Turner. Off in the distance I heard what sounded like the theme song from the classic TV show Nightrider, only with a Bollywood feel. I was drawn to the music like a rat to the Pied Piper.

When we finally found the stage in question, I was delighted to find that a tuba was being used to replace the electric bass in the band, Red Baraat. The group’s horn section, awesome grooves, and stunning good looks kept me shaking for two hours. At one point I checked out the rest of the crowd, only to find one of my other favorite acts from the festival were dancing along with me, March Fourth Marching Band.

As night progressed, and people preceded into the altered dimensions that booze — and possibly other things? — give you access to, people seemed to wake up and look for their next destinations. Many people went into the late night venues, yet as I am on a restricted photographer’s budget, I found the $30 extra to be a little much for me. I found friends and wandered around the festival enjoying the company of strangers that were on the same page as me.

Monday came, and I had to focus on the sad task of packing up camp. Yet once the Beemer was packed up and we were on the road, the Feather River greeted us with another great swimming hole, washing another great weekend into the past.

Brews and Boontling: Beer fest shots from Anderson Valley

Andrew Lam

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May 23, 2012

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Photographer Allen David sent us these snaps from the May 12 Boonville Beer Festival, good old-fashioned weekend porn if ere we’ve some. Check them (and his prose below) out to kickstart your next mission outside city limits, using our 2012 Summer Fairs and Festival guide for additional inspiration.

A scenic drive north takes me to the festival at which the suds spread and the language are both unique. Boontling, an Anderson Valley regional dialect with words from the British Empire, the Pomo Californian indigenous people, and Spain can be heard between the festival’s many taps: “The ballets steinbok horning’, chiggrul groin’ tiddrick in the heelch of the Boont Region!”

For four hours I am able to sample the finest beers that the West has to offer. From golden pale ales to dark oatmeal stouts to Double IPAs with more hops than I thought possible. Two hours into the festival, everyone’s feeling hoppy themselves. Those sudden yells of joy you only find at beer festivals spread across the crowd, as smiles stretch further and further across faces.

Beer bellies be damned, when the end of the festival approaches everyone finishes their last glass and heads to the fair campground to continue the party, with DJs and dancing ’til the moon is high above. Great festival. See you next year, Boontling.