Gary James' Interview With
Glenn Phillips




Glenn Phillips was fortunate enough to be around when Rock music was on the rise. The groups that his bands have shared the stage with include The Allman Brothers Band, The Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, Bo Diddley, The Ventures, Talking Heads, Patti Smith, Three Dog Night, Alice Cooper, and the list goes on and on. Glenn Phillips talked with us about his musical career.

Q - Glenn, you have how many albums under your belt? I've read eighteen. Is that accurate?

A - Yes. It's hard to count some of these live albums that have come out recently. It's eighteen or twenty. I got to the point where I was kind of rounding out to twenty 'cause I figured that's about what it was. There's studio albums, there's live albums, and there's also re-issue compilations that came out, and so it's hard to know how to count that. So, eighteen or twenty seems close enough. That's generally it.

Q - You started playing guitar in 1966.

A - Right.

Q - You said, "I'm going to be the best guitar player in the world." Lowell George of Little Feat said you were "The most amazing guitarist I've ever seen." So, you succeeded, right?

A - I don't know that I should say about that. (laughs) I think that was kind of sixteen-year-old hubris and just determination that you're going to do something. I did achieve what I wanted to achieve in terms of personal expression and music being a way of self-discovery and making you part of a community, and connecting with people. Those were the things that were important to me. When I was a kid, saying I was going to be the best guitar player in the world, I don't think anybody is the best guitar player in the world, including me. But you can be the best of what you do. And so it was a process of self-discovery for me that helped me in ways that I couldn't even have imagined when I was sixteen.

Q - That is high praise from Lowell George.

A - Yes. Lowell was an incredibly accomplished musician on his own, but what sometimes get lost in the story of Lowell George is how supportive he was of other musicians, of other people's musical endeavors. That was certainly the case with me. I'm not alone in telling that story. There's lots of people who would tell you that Lowell was really in their corner and doing whatever he could to help them in their musical endeavors.

Q - This name, Hampton Grease Band almost sounds like a '50s Rock 'n' Roll band. It conjures up, at least to me anyway, an image of Sha Na Na. Did you come up with that name?

A - There were two guitar players in the band, myself and Harold Kelling. We both wrote all the music, and the lyrics were kind of divided between myself, Harold and Bruce (Hampton), the singer. But Harold had a way with language and he would take words and just give them a spin, and "Grease" was one of those words that he latched on to. I think you're correct. It probably did evolve out of '50s rockers. Harold was older. He was the oldest guy in the group. He was like, I don't know, five or six years older than myself. And I think he was very influenced by '50s rockers and that's where that word evolved. The way it became the name of the band is, we used to travel to New York to hear music that we wanted to hear because you couldn't really hear that kind of music off the beaten path, original, ground-breaking music that much in the South at that time. It just wasn't part of the tour circuit. So, we'd go to New York. Harold and my brother Charles and Bruce were walking down the street and we encountered Frank Zappa. Harold said to him, "Grease," and Zappa related to it and they became friends and Zappa became a life-long friend of the band and a supporter. And so, we named the band the Grease Band at that point. Then we found out somewhere along the way that Joe Cocker had a band named the Grease Band, so we added Bruce's name to make it different, and so I don't know whether it was a conscious tribute to '50s acts, but the name springing up like it did was certainly rooted in that.

Q - Initially, the Hampton Grease Band couldn't find any work in the South in clubs.

A - Yes.

Q - You were a Blues band and Blues originated from the South. So, what was the problem? Were you an all-original music band?

A - What the problem was, when we first started playing, there was a Blues revitalization taking place with Paul Butterfield Blues Band and other acts. But music at that time, music that was different, off the beaten path at that time would take place on the East Coast and West Coast. That' where the record labels were, but the South was sort of removed from that. What was happening in the South was kind of the high school cover bands playing Top 40 radio hits. And so at the time we were doing this, it was not the norm and it was not what people were into. It eventually became something. It was not part of the South early on, but at the time in the '60s, people were into AM hits, the Top Ten, the Top Twenty. And that was not what we were doing at all, and so finding work was difficult.

Q - You were making 50 cents a night at the Stables Bar And Lounge in Atlanta. You're joking, right? Was that 50 cents apiece or for the whole band?

A - We would literally play for the door, a cut of the door and often times there would be hardly anybody there, nobody there, certainly at the beginning. We just wanted to have a place to go play, and so we literally would go home with 50 cents each a night. We did eventually start to build up a following. People would come down to hear us. I don't want to say it was a big money making venture at that point, but it did eventually evolve to beyond 50 cents a night. (laughs) Finding a place for any original band, even though we were doing Blues stuff, we had started writing our own songs and they were not what anybody would consider to be commercial songs. There were other bands like that and that's what led me to find a place to play, finding an outlet at Piedmont Park. There was electricity. Just going up and setting up on the grass and that becoming a place. We would go down there and play for free every weekend and that turned into a big scene. A year after we did it, it ended up including The Allman Brothers, The Grateful Dead, playing there with really big acts, and things kind of exploded as the Hippie community exploded in Atlanta.

Q - You mentioned The Allman Brothers and The Grateful Dead. Did you get the chance to sit down and talk with Duane Allman or Jerry Garcia?

A - Well, certainly with The Allman Brothers we played tons and tons of dates, lots of dates. They even called us up the first time to play at the park. They knew we organized these shows. They got in touch with us to see if they could come play. We had no idea who they were, but we said, "Yes, of course. Come on down and play." And so, there was always a connection. Duane was a very kind person, generous person. I think he always felt kind of indebted. We just said, "Yes, come on down and play." As they became really popular they would put us on shows constantly with them and we were very lucky to have that happen. Duane in fact was the guy who told Bill Graham at the Fillmore that, "You need to hire these guys. You need to have them come play here," and that's what led to Bill Graham booking us without ever hearing us.

Q - And you'll be happy to know we're doing this interview because I came across your band's name in a magazine that was published fifty years ago. (1970)

A - I'm very grateful to people like yourself who will dig in that deep, not just in terms of discovering something about the Hampton Grease Band, but in terms of keeping that culture alive. You're like archaeologists searching in Egypt for pyramids. (laughs) You're digging through the sand and you're finding things. Things get lost in the shuffle without people like yourself doing this. I think it's important what you're doing.

Q - Well, thank you. It is important. Some people have called me a Rock historian.

A - Yes. Definitely.

Q - I suppose I am. You can't take someone fresh out of college in 2020 and think they're going to have any connection to the 1960s. It wouldn't be there. It wouldn't be the same interview.

A - Exactly.

Q - You also shared the stage with Jimi Hendrix. Did you have any time to sit down and talk with him?

A - Well, just in passing. We were at the Pop Festival, playing with him. In passing there was a short amount of communication, but you know Jimi was actually, and I'm sure you've come across this, he was a very outgoing personality onstage, but actually very soft spoken, shy guy offstage. So, there was a real contrast there. People who were aware of seeing someone like him onstage would just think he'd be this really outgoing, gregarious person offstage, but that wasn't really the case. My small passing with him, he seemed like a very nice person, a very nice guy, but very a very soft spoken guy, not the guy you would associate with doing these explosive performances.

Q - Did you ever cross paths with Janis Joplin or Jim Morrison?

A - Janis Joplin, yes. Not Jim Morrison. The Hampton Grease Band broke up for a very short period of time. When the first Atlanta Pop Festival happened, they wanted us to play there. But we had gone though a very short split and I had an offshoot group called The Stump Brothers. And so, because the Grease Band had broken up, they said, "Okay, let's do it with The Stump Brothers. So, we were backstage at the first Pop Festival in 1969 in Atlanta and Janis Joplin performed there and I did talk to her for awhile at that event.

Q - What'd you think of her? How'd she come across?

A - I don't know that I can say I knew her, but she came off very much like what your image would be of her, of sort of the hard-drinking, rough and tumble, deeply embedded in the Hippie culture of that era. You always see the pictures of her with the bottle Jack Daniels. While I was talking to her, she had that bottle and was drinking out of it. (laughs) Her personality was very much, at least from my short impression of talking to her for ten minutes or something, was very much like what our general impression of her is like.

Q - What were The Stump Brothers all about?

A - It was just an offshoot of the Grease Band. You know, back then we just wanted to play all the time, or I did anyway. And so the drummer from The Grease Band and myself sort of started this group that was more or less like a group that different people would come in and out of, that would come and jam in when The Grease Band wasn't playing. But we were playing a lot. There's a guy named Jesse Jarrow who's put together on the web, on the internet, all the jobs that Hampton Grease Band played. He sent me the link. He doesn't have all of them, but I went there and looked and my jaw dropped at how much we were playing. We were literally just playing all the time. Just the list of the dates that he had kind of blew me away 'cause I certainly remember events happening, but this is practically every night for six years. Just constantly playing. But when The Grease Band wasn't playing or we had a night off, we still wanted to play. This is what we wanted to do every night. It wasn't as serious an endeavor as what The Hampton Grease Band was, where we were writing all our material. It was more like a jam oriented, side group and often times we would open up for The Grease Band. We'd do shows together. We'd do multiple tiered acts, but it would be all Grease related bands that were playing at 'em.

Q - Glenn, you mean you never kept some sort of listing of the gigs you played?

A - We didn't keep track of that stuff. I wish we had, but at the time it was just like all we wanted to do was play and that's what we were doing and that's what our focus was. When we were done playing one job it was on to the next and whether it was a free job at Piedmont Park or playing some club and making fifty cents or going to the Pop Festival or going to the Fillmore East, it didn't really make that much difference to us. We just wanted to be doing it all. We just wanted to be playing all the time.

Q - You opened for Alice Cooper in New Jersey. Do you remember what year that was?

A - It probably would have been somewhere between '71 and '73. But it was sometime in the early '70s.

Q - You had half the audience booing your group.

A - Yes.

Q - And half yelling for more. So, what kind of reaction did Alice Cooper get?

A - Alice Cooper got a very good reaction at that point because they had a hit on the radio which was "Eighteen". And so they got a very good reaction. I'll never forget when we came offstage, and we weren't intentionally trying to antagonize the audience, but that frequently happened. People either seemed to love the band or hate us. We came offstage and half of those people were screaming, "More, more," and the other half were screaming, "Boo, boo!" Alice Copper ran up to us and said, "How in the hell did you guys get that audience reaction? That's the reaction I've been trying to get every time we go onstage." He loves stirring things up. It doesn't seem that way now, but at the time their image was very different from the norm. Just the whole sort of Glam Rock thing that they were doing was not the norm at that period of time. We look back at it now and we're used to bands looking like that. That sort of delivery of how they would do stuff. At the time that was very different.

Q - You were on Frank Zappa's Bizarre/Straight label. How good of a job did he do for Hampton Grease?

A - Frank was a real supporter of the band. I have nothing but fond memories of Frank. But, the way things played out, the timing did not work out that well for us. Frank was managed by a guy named Herb Cohen, and shortly after we signed, Herb Cohen and Frank got involved in a lawsuit with each other and Herb was also involved with a lawsuit with Warner Brothers. So, there was a big split in the label because of this conflict they were having. And not long after that, the Grease Band broke up, and this led into what happened with Lowell George. Lowell George had been a supporter of mine. After the band had broken up, he had taken me into his studio in Atlanta to record a demo tape. He took this tape to Warner Brothers and actually got them to say they wanted to sign me to a deal. Now, the reason why I think was totally because of Lowell. Lowell brought this to them. They had never heard of me. I was a good instrumental guitar player, playing original music. Lowell brought this tape in and they said yes. Lowell was going to produce an album and Warner Brothers was going to put it out. But we were signed, still, because of the Grease Band to this management contract with Herb Cohen, who at that point was involved in a lawsuit with Warner Brothers. And so Herb got wind of this and Herb, just out of spite towards Warner Brothers, told Warner Brothers if they wanted to put a record out by me, they were going to have to give him $100,000, which of course they were never going to do. This was basically an unknown guitar player that they didn't have any association with, and so it led to lots of phone conversations with Frank. "Is there anything we can do about this?" Frank felt really bad about it. He said, "I wish I could do something, but I can't. My hands are tied 'cause Herb won't talk to me 'cause we're suing each other. He's suing Warner Brothers." That's why I ended up deciding my first record after the Grease Band, called "Lost At Sea", to just record it on my own and put it out on my name. I just made my own label, which at the time was not the common thing to do. We're all used to people self-releasing records now, but back then I had never even heard of anybody doing that. I'm not saying I was the first person who ever did it, but I wasn't aware of anybody doing it. I was in this corner where I couldn't sign a contract with anybody because of Herb Cohen.

Q - By putting out your own record, did you have to arrange for distribution? Promotion? Publicity? You became a record label!

A - Yes, but I had no idea what I was doing and those channels and avenues didn't exist. It was basically selling it at band jobs, selling it out of the trunk of the car, out of my house. Somehow, and I still have no idea how, a copy of that record got in the hands of John Peel, who was a very famous BBC disc jockey who's passed away since. But at the time he was very big. He loved the record, so he was playing it on the BBC all the time and then that led to me starting to get calls from Richard Branson and Virgin Records. I don't know if you know, but at the time Virgin Records stared off as a record store, but they evolved into being a record label. So they were ordering these albums because they were getting so many orders, people calling in wanting the record, hearing it on the BBC and then Melody Maker had a poll of American releases they wanted released overseas and "Lost At Sea" came in second. So they were ordering all these albums. That's what kept me in business was all these orders from Virgin Records. They were ordering so many of them that eventually they just decided it would be cheaper to just put the record out themselves. So, they signed me as the first American artist to Virgin Records. That led me to going over there and doing a U.K. tour, staying with Michael Field. He was a fan of the record and having this relationship with Richard Branson... I lived in this little neighborhood back then called Brookhaven. I still live there, but it's grown up quite a bit. It was little, tiny houses. I lived in a little half of a duplex, a two room duplex. People are still shocked to think that Richard Branson flew across the country to come visit me at this little shack in Brookhaven, but that's what the record business was like back then. It was a very different world than what we're aware of now. Of course, Richard Branson wasn't at that time the name and have the kind of recognition that he has today.

Q - That's right, because he went on to start his own airline and at one point he had The Stones and Janet Jackson on his label.

A - Yes. He was just a brilliant guy in everything he did. He built that label up. Then he ended up selling the label. Now he's doing spaceships. He's just a very brilliant guy and a real force to be reckoned with. I say that in a positive way. I was very lucky to have crossed paths with him and to have had all those dots get connected at that time in my life. Had they not, we wouldn't be dong this interview today and I wouldn't have eighteen or twenty albums out behind me.

Q - You were onstage at the Fillmore East with Frank Zappa.

A - Right.

Q - How did that work? Did you open for him?

A - Yes. Duane Allman had told Bill Graham that he oughta have us at the Fillmore. Then somehow it led to Frank Zappa. Zappa was playing at the Fillmore. Zappa was very big. I guess maybe Bill Graham came up with this idea of having us on with The Mothers. Whoever came up with it, when it came up, Zappa was completely behind it because he was friends with the band and a fan of the band from past connections that we had had. So there were three bands on the bill. We weren't the first one. We were the middle band. We opened up for Zappa and The Mothers. It couldn't have been a better crowd for us to have been playing for and to be in front of. They were wildly enthusiastic. We were told we got the best reaction of any new band that had ever played the Fillmore. We played two shows a night for two nights, but every every show we got three encores and it led to the guy who ran the Fillmore, Kip Cohan, writing Columbia Records and saying, "Though Frank Zappa and John Lennon and Yoko Ono graced our stage this weekend, my memories will reside exclusively with The Hampton Grease Band." That was the weekend that John Lennon and Yoko Ono came in and sat in with The Mothers. Coincidentally, Zappa was a very friendly guy and very inquisitive, intellectual type guy. He asked me to give him a guitar lesson. I said, "You don't need a guitar lesson from me." He said, "Yes. You're able to do things picking, and picking all the notes that I can't do." I don't know if you know what hammer-ons and pull-offs are. They're when you're making the strings sound like different notes by pulling with your left hand but not actually picking it. So, he wanted me to go up in his dressing room and show him my picking technique. I said, "Sure, I'll be glad to." I went up to the dressing room. He and I were sitting in his dressing room, playing guitars, and John Lennon and Yoko Ono walk in. It was an odd place to be in the middle of all that happening, swirling around, 'cause certainly John Lennon wouldn't have been waiting in my dressing room. So, it was just a great little experience and it was kind of a high point for the band, but it was also sort of the beginning of the end of the band. Not that event itself, but the band ended up breaking up shortly after that.

Q - So, John and Yoko never sat in with your band, did they?

A - No. They sat in with The Mothers Of Invention, Frank's band. They didn't sit in with us. Frank and I played together backstage where he was asking me to show him things. We were jamming like people would do back then. He was asking me questions about things and picking technique and we were talking and playing. So I got to play with him, but it wasn't that he sat in with the band. John Lennon and Yoko Ono were there to sit in with The Mothers Of Invention.

Q - Alright, when John Lennon came through that dressing room door, what went through your mind? Do you remember?

A - It's interesting because looking back on it, these moments with John Lennon and you're asking me about Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin; We were so young and this was just part of our world. I didn't fully realize what an odd, unique set of circumstances this was. It just seemed like the norm, like musicians walking in and walking out and that this would be going on forever. And of course I look back now and I go, "Why didn't I get a picture of this?" We just took it for granted that this is how things were because we were young and naive. I mean, when we were at the Fillmore playing and I was up in that dressing room and they were walking in, I was 20 years old. For the past four years I had just been playing pretty much, like I said, every night and being around musicians all the time. It just seemed like the norm to me. I was too young and too naive to fully realize what a special, rare moment that was. So, we talked and we said hi. He seemed like a real nice guy. Yoko seemed a little off-kilter to me. Very different than John Lennon. I would describe it as opposites attracting. John Lennon seemed like a guy not looking for attention in his life. My impression was getting people surrounding him was not his idea of a good time. He was just wanting to interact with Zappa or anybody he was talking to, whereas Yoko Ono seemed very much like a person who wanted attention and was into getting attention. I guess they were an opposites attract situation. My impression at that time was John Lennon had had enough fame to last him for several lifetimes. I think at a point when you lose your anonymity to that extent it can almost become like a prison. For him, The Beatles were probably a great experience at the beginning, but not so great at the end. It's just hard to imagine not being able to go walk anyplace without being swamped and surrounded. Even when we were at the Fillmore and I was up at that dressing room, playing with Frank and they walked in, when I walked out of that dressing room there were just people who worked at the Fillmore, and it was packed, going down the stairs, following in the wake of John Lennon. Even for them, backstage people working at the Fillmore, this was like a rare, special event. They were used to seeing celebrities day in, day out, but John Lennon walks in and they all just flock to the dressing room and the second he walked out, he was having to deal with all of them and that was his life all the time.

Q - Now, Columbia Records signed the Hampton Grease Band and you got a $75,000 advance.

A - Right.

Q - You did the whole album in two days, yet you only had $17,000 left over. Where did the majority of that $75,000 go? In somebody's pocket?

A - Yes. We didn't do that album in two days. We didn't spend tons of money. The record ended up costing $11,000 and we ended up recording one album's worth of material in Atlanta over the course of a few days. I can't remember how long, but it wasn't that long, but it wasn't like in a day or two. So then, when we sent that to Columbia and they heard it, the songs were like twenty minutes long. They were really long, complicated songs and they went, "Well, there's nothing on this we can play on the radio." And so, at that time the concept of double albums had become popular because of the band Chicago putting out a double album, a Columbia release. So, somebody came up with the idea of let's have them make another record and we'll do it as a double album because there's bound to be something more commercial on it than this. So, we went to another studio in Atlanta and recorded another album's worth of material. It's just a fluke, a comedy of errors how we ended up probably the most un-commercial band in the country. I mean, we were stridently independent into doing our own thing and not being concerned with commercial potential of anything at that point. This is just what we were like. The fact that we were able to get, somehow as a fluke, this double album on Columbia Records... I've talked to different people who were involved with this over the years. I had a conversation this week with the guy who was working at Columbia. The A&R guy who was the assistant to John Hammond at the time. This is not an exaggeration. He said yes there was $75,000. Phil Walden often told the story, he got a call from Columbia Records. They said, "Do you know how to get in touch with the Hampton Grease Band?" he yelled out of his office. His secretary said, "That's the band you called a few years ago to get The Allman Brothers to play with." He went, "Okay," and he gets back on the phone and says, "Yeah. I can get you in touch with the Grease Band. I'm their manager," which he wasn't. He didn't have any connection with us outside of that one phone call from years ago. The way he told it was he got in touch with our managers and said, "If you sign a publishing deal, a publishing agreement through me, you'll get more money from Columbia. I can get you a bunch of records." Our managers, who were really inexperienced, were really well-intentioned, great guys, but there were record labels in Atlanta like that, that did original music the way we did and other bands were doing. So, we ended up signing this publishing deal with Walden and somewhere between Columbia and Walden, close to $60.000 of that money just disappeared. I do want to say this is not that unusual for the times. If you go back and look at what was going on in the record business, you'll see stories like this everywhere. And just as an update to this, I recently got a call from somebody at SONY, the royalty department, about wanting to send us publishing royalties for someone who had done a reissue of "Music To Eat" over the last few years. It came out on CD in 1996. But then there was a label in the last couple of years called Real Gone Music that licenses albums from labels to re-issue them. They had done that with The Grease Band. So there was some publishing money. I said, "I really appreciate you calling me." I told him, "This is the first time in fifty years since the record came out that anyone has called us to give us royalties." We never made anything from the record outside of the initial thing. "This isn't sour grapes," I told him. I'm very grateful Columbia put this record out. Part of the story of The Grease Band is this esoteric band. If the album was put out on an independent label, people wouldn't be re-issuing it now and they wouldn't still be talking about it. What he told me was he was in the Royalty Department. No Exit Music was out of business. That was Walden's publishing company we had signed to. So, they didn't know who to contact. He said, "I really make the effort to contact bands and musicians with these royalties at this point in time." When I told him the story I just told you, he said to me, "You have no idea how many times I've heard this story." He's in the Royalty Department now, trying to get money to artists from that era. He was just telling me, "This is just what I hear all the time. Artists are constantly shocked that I'm calling them about royalties 'cause they've never received any royalties." It's a funny story. It's a bizarre story and a unique one, but the concept of artists not getting royalties unless they were a big enough seller to hire a lawyer, an expensive, high priced lawyer to dive into the record label and dig into this. It's not unusual for bands not to get their royalties. I tell it as an interesting story, but not one that I'm at all bitter about. I do feel incredibly lucky that by this fluke of circumstances that Columbia wanted to sign us because we were never going to be a big seller. That's not a criticism of the band, it's actually like a badge of honor for us that we just did what we wanted to do, the way we wanted to do it, consequences be damned. That was just sort of like our unspoken motto. But the fact that we got signed to Columbia was just a stroke of luck and a bizarre twist of fate.

Q - Did the Hampton Grease Band morph into The Glenn Phillips Band? Or did you get all new musicians for that project? How did that work?

A - Well, when the band broke up, I went through sort of a personal crisis. My Dad killed himself. He came and visited me literally hours before he did it. I had no idea this was happening at the time. When I was growing up he was very disapproving of me being a musician. He wanted me to go to college and have a better and brighter future. He cared about his kids. I was determined to be a musician. When he came to visit me he told me, "You've really got it made. You're doing exactly what you want to do. Don't ever give this up." Those were his last words to me. I felt this drive, my way of dealing with his suicide was to make this record, "Lost At Sea" because that's how I dealt with things, through music. So, I was very driven to do this and I just became determined. I'm just going to do this on my own. The thing with Lowell had fallen through. And so, it wasn't a regrouping of the Grease Band. Mike Holbrook, who was the bass player in the Grease Band, did end up playing on the record, but it was all new musicians outside of Mike and myself. I didn't think of it and Mike didn't think of it as a regrouping of the Hampton Grease Band. It was like totally doing a different thing. It was all instrumental music, but very emotionally motivated, obviously rooted in what had happened with my father and my way of trying to cope with it and put things in perspective. So it was just a project that I had to do. The Grease Band had been broken up at that point for several years. I didn't think of it as a connection with the Grease Band at all.

I stand in awe and in great admiration of what you've been able to do and your efforts in doing this. I think what you're doing on a historical level of passing on information is a very important thing. Music and the culture that we were all lucky enough to be part of is something that does not exist the same way anymore. Passing this information on about what it was and what it cold be is very bit as important I think as talking about the history of the 1800s or the 1920s. You're doing something important. I know it's something you love and you're driven by a passion, but it's also very important on a cultural level.

Q - Thank you very much. I'm glad you appreciate it.

Official Website: GlennPhillps.myfreesites.net

© Gary James. All rights reserved.


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