Identifier9365278
Created AtTue May 23 2023 23:54:00 GMT+0000 (Coordinated Universal Time)
Reference Number805
Media TypeFLAC
Media Count1
Note275 MB, 126:15
Source Info(1975) Panasonic cassette recorder + E/V 660 microphone -> equalizer -> Tandberg 3000X -> BASF reel to reel tape @ 3-3/4 IPS (2007) transfer to 16-bit 48,000 WAV -> Sound Forge -> FLAC (mono)

Trades Allowed
Performance
Oregon 1975-??-?? The Great Southeast Music Hall, Atlanta, GA
Set 1Imaginary Movie Theme (George Schultz)
Brujo
Ghost Beads
Fond Libre(?)
Ravens Wood
Improvisation #1
Aurora
Rainmaker
The Silence of a Candle
Undertow
Solstice
Improvisation #2
Canyon Song

Set 2

Set 3

CommentRalph Towner g,p
Collin Walcott perc,sitar
Glen Moore b
Paul McCandless ob,reeds,f

This recording is from the first of the two nights that I saw Oregon at Atlanta's Great Southeast Music Hall, which was then
in Broadview Plaza on Piedmont Road. Oregon may have played a third night on this weekend, too. I don't remember the
exact date of the shows, but I can say with certainty that it was in the winter of 1975, possibly around Valentine's Day.

The Great Southeast Music Hall was was an intimate room that held about 500 people. I personally saw Weather Report,
Return to Forever, Flora Purim and Airto Moriera, Tim Weisberg, Janis Ian, and Oregon at this venue. Bands usually played
two sets, allowing for a change of audience and more ticket sales. Often, bands played the same set twice per night.
Oregon was an exception to this practice.

Seating in the first few rows from the stage consisted of wooden backrests and cushions on the floor. That's where my friend
Charles and I were sitting, on the front row, when I made this recording with my Panasonic tape recorder and E/V microphone,
which were hidden in an army knapsack I used for these purposes. The microphone was positioned at the opening of the sack.

With the directional microphone being only a few feet from the stage, the recording is very clear. There was no detectable
echo in the room. Some distortion is audible in the recording, due mostly to the automatic level control circuitry on the recorder.
The original cassettes are long gone, but the reel which holds the first-generation copy has been well preserved, and with
Sound Forge and other software, the audio quality of the recording has been greatly improved.

About the performances: Oregon brings a life to the songs in this recording that the studio recordings of the same tracks
do not possess. Particularly in the second set, the band opens up each song in ways that seem to be totally unexpected, and
which depart from the accurate and somewhat sterile studio versions.

On disk one, the first track is Oregon's "opening act." Before each set, the band's manager "warmed up" the audience with a solo
piano performance of his original composition. It was the same song, twice every night, before each set. I recorded both
performances on this particular night, but only kept what I thought was the better one. The house announcer can be heard saying
the pianist's name, "George Schultz," at the end of his performance.

The audience is very attentive throughout the performance. In a few places, there are muffled coughs and a couple of words, and
during the improvisations, some unintelligible talking and a bit of laughter low in the background. Charles and I can be heard
talking a couple of times, but these distractions are brief and infrequent.

The second improvisation of the night was funny in a bizarre way, and in one spot, Glenn Moore (I presume) plays a
wild take on the Judy Garland number, "Zing Went the Strings of My Heart."

The next night, when I was not recording, Oregon performed a free improvisation which ended in a simultaneous climax. The
musicians were particularly pleased with their performance, and after the applause, Collin Walcott asked if anyone had been
recording the show! I kicked myself for not having brought my tape deck that night. After the second set, Charles and
I went back to the dressing room and told the four band members and their manager that I had recorded the previous night's
show. They were not too excited about this news, but I asked them if they would like a copy of the tape and, after some
internal discussion, they gave me their manager's address. I confess that I never sent the tape, thinking I could be opening
the door for more trouble than it would have been worth. But I carried that scrap of paper in my wallet for a number of years,
thinking I would get around to sharing the recording with them one of these days.