The Profound Legacy of Delaney & Bonnie

Not Hall of Fame worthy? My ass.

One of the most important American bands of the rock era is Delaney and Bonnie & Friends. Most important, you say? Seems like a pretty lofty claim. The evidence, though, is overwhelming.

The band was a combination musical rest stop and encounter group … an open marriage of musicians that, at various times, included Duane and Gregg Allman, Eric Clapton, Dave Mason, Joe Cocker, George Harrison, Leon Russell, Rita Coolidge and many others.

Other Friends—most specifically Bobby Whitlock, Jim Gordon, Jim Price and Carl Radle—were the backbone for some of rock’s most memorable albums, including

• Joe Cocker’s Mad Dogs and Englishmen

• Derek and the Dominoes

• George Harrison’s All Thing Must Pass

• Eric Clapton’s early (best?) solo albums Eric Clapton and 461 Ocean Boulevard

Clapton’s impact on rock history is, of course, immense and unassailable. But it’s interesting to wonder how it might be different if Delaney Bramlett hadn’t repeatedly encouraged and cajoled Eric to sing rather than “just” play guitar. “Delaney taught me everything I know about singing,” Clapton has noted. Delaney is also purported to have taught George Harrison to play slide guitar.

So, long before the business world talked of “connectors” and “incubators”, Delaney Bramlett was a skilled connector, and the collective he created with his musical/life partner Bonnie was the ultimate incubator.

As great as the musicians were, it was the music that really set D&B apart. Both loved the music we now called “Roots” or “Americana”, but it was high-energy blues rock n’ soul that first brought young Delaney Bramlett and Bonnie Lynn O’Farrell together. She had been a member of the Ike and Tina Turner Revue (the first white Ikette, so they say), and he was buddies (and running mates in the Shindig! house band) with the Oklahoma Genius, Leon Russell. It was meant to be. (Well, at least for a while.) They met during a gig at the opening of a bowling alley and were married a week later.

I first heard Delaney & Bonnie, as best I can remember, through an 8-Track of the album The Original Delaney & Bonnie (Accept No Substitute). I’m sure it was my sister’s, but it was permitted in the family car—one of the few selections my parents agreed on (or, at least, tolerated.)

The only other 8-tracks my mother would permit to play on family road trips, in case you’re interested, were Joan Baez’s Diamond and Rust and Neil Diamond’s Hot August Night.

Accept No Substitute (even if only heard passively), helped open my ears to the classic Stax mix of gospel, soul, blues and country. I didn’t realize it at the time, but albums such as this, as well as my father’s love of jazz, opened me up to a greater appreciation of the diverse range of “non-rock” than I might have otherwise received as a suburban white kid. As he so often did, Robert Christgau put his finger on something important, and thought-provoking, in his review of The Original Delaney & Bonnie:

Any white person who cares about black music, especially a reviewer, must ask himself whether he hears it as it is or exploits certain of its values for his own uses. Some such exploitation is inevitable with any music, of course, but the history of white Americans and black music is so shameful that special care is necessary. [This]is a white album, and for once that's good. No black singers would record anything so eccentric, so unabashedly baroque, in its celebration of black music. All the wondrous excesses are here--blue guitar breaks and gospel piano, all-girl choruses and funky female growls, unreasonable faith in God and man. Once, the horns even break into "Hey Jude," just to let you know how happy they are. But the album is not really excessive. And most of all, Delaney and Bonnie sure can sing.

After releasing On Tour with Eric Clapton (an album many bought suspecting they would hear Eric-as-frontman, but had to content themselves with a lot of D&B and a few choice guitar solos from Eric), D&B released From Delaney to Bonnie which included, as part of a medley, a sampling of the traditional tune Going Down the Road Feelin’ Bad (a classic blues song you know VERY WELL if you’re a fan of the Grateful Dead.)

This song became one of D&B’s signatures, and they do a full, extended version of it on their next album Motel Shot—almost universally considered their best LP. According to Bonnie, the entire album, all 12 cuts, was recorded in around 4 hours. (Many more songs were recorded during the early morning session, with the 12 best made the album.) Part of the authentic charm of the album comes from fact that there were no drums. Instead, musicians slapped their laps, banged on a briefcase, or, like Joe Cocker, thumped on the side of Leon Russell’s piano. Duane Allman, for example, played briefcase, lap … and a little slide guitar, of course.

The session yielded some of the most amazing music from an amazing career. For my money, the D&B take on “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” is one of the best ever (and there have been many, many great ones):

Motel Shot also yielded D&B’s biggest (pretty much only) Top 40 chart success. “My Never Ending Song of Love” reached #13 on the Billboard Hot 100 in May of 1971. Later that year, they also charted with a cover of their friend Dave Mason’s “Only You Know and I Know.”

“My Never Ending Song” never fails to put a smile on my face and remains, to this day, one of my all-time favorites. Sure, it’s a simple song, but that is its charm and its power.

The group put out one, final album, D&B Together, that contained the aforementioned hit “Only You Know and I Know” and a song that would live on long after, “Groupie(Superstar)”.

The song was originally inspired by Rita Coolidge’s observation of the interactions between the male stars of the Mad Dogs revue and their female fans. The songwriting was originally credited to Leon Russell, but Bonnie Bramlett was subsequently added to the credit.

The song itself was a “connector.” Bette Midler is said to have seen it performed live by the Friends. She performed it on The Tonight Show, and Richard Carpenter happened to be tuned into that episode. He rightly saw it as an ideal vehicle for his sister’s otherworldly voice. The Carpenters’ version hit #2 in the summer of 1971, a further testament to the power of the D&B incubator. (Their version was “cleaned up” a bit, lyrically, but is almost entirely the same song.)

Shortly after the release of D&B Together, D&B were no longer together. Heavy drinking, drugs and violence led to an inevitable divorce. Bonnie remembered, "We fought a lot—heavy-duty physical stuff. It wasn't nice to be around, and I'm sure it wasn't fun to watch.”

The collective nature of the band led to its demise: In a development dripping with irony, the popularity (and effectiveness) of D&B dwindled once Clapton, Harrison et al took away their Friends.

Leon Russell continued to throw Delaney work over the years, and Bonnie launched a solo career in ’73, releasing 9 albums though 2008. She was highly in-demand as backing/guest singer, and acted in a small number of films and TV shows, most notably Roseanne.

Bonnie, of course, was back in the news in 1979 for pushing back, verbally and quite physically, against reprehensible comments made by Elvis Costello.

So, with all that, you’d think any “Rock and Roll Hall of Fame” worthy of the name would count Delaney and Bonnie as members. Well, you’d be wrong. But, after all, the Rock Hall is nothing but a tourist attraction, and certainly no arbiter of which music and musicians really mattered.

I’m pleased to say that there is a current couple who echo Delaney and Bonnie. Amanda Grace Sudano and Angel Ramirez met in Nashville in 2005, formed the band JOHNNYSWIM and married in 2009. (Unlike D&B, theirs is a happy and long-lasting union.) Along the way they stopped off at Daryl’s House, and you can see what makes them such a delight.