Dickey Betts (RIP) Talks Singing "Ramblin' Man" with Bob Dylan and Getting Shouted Out in "Murder Most Foul"
Bob said, “Well I'm glad somebody knocked that sonofabitch out!”
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“Play ‘Blue Sky,’ play Dickey Betts.” — Bob Dylan, “Murder Most Foul”
Dickey Betts died today at the age of 80. I was lucky enough to speak with the singer, songwriter, and former Allman Brother last year for my book Pledging My Time: Conversations with Bob Dylan Band Members. He was an absolute delight to talk to, a real capital-c Character. I can see why Dylan liked him so much.
In memory of Betts, I figured I would share my interview with him here in the newsletter. This is taken straight from the book, so if you already read that, you’ve already read this. But, honestly, Dickey was a big enough personality you might enjoy reading it again. I know I did just now. Rest in peace Dickey.
Though his last name wasn’t Allman, Dickey Betts helped found the Allman Brothers — he was the one who suggested Duane recruit his younger brother Gregg to sing — and wrote some of their most famous songs, including “Blue Sky” and “Ramblin’ Man.” The former, Bob Dylan shouted out in “Murder Most Foul” (“Play Oscar Peterson, play Stan Getz / Play, ‘Blue Sky,’ play Dickey Betts”); the latter, he performed onstage with Betts himself.
That “Ramblin’ Man” performance took place in Tampa, near Dickey’s home, in 1995. It’s not the only time Betts and Dylan shared a stage. For a decade or so, whenever Dylan played a show in central Florida, Dickey was likely as not to pop onstage to jam. We talked about those sit-ins, as well as hanging with Dylan and The Band on their 1974 tour, recording a song for a Jimmie Rodgers tribute album Dylan produced, and his reaction to Dylan’s “Murder Most Foul” nod. Oh, and about the guy he beat up in front of Dylan at Bill Clinton’s inauguration. Dickey’s wife Donna occasionally popped in to fill in some details.
Let’s start at the beginning. When did yours and Dylan’s paths first cross?
In the 1970s. I went out and joined Bob on one of their tours for a couple of days. I knew Bill Graham, so I called Bill ahead of time to see if he’d like it if I came out. So I met Robbie Robertson and Bob on that little two-day sabbatical. I was trying to refine my songwriting a little bit. Me and he and Robbie hung out a little bit, just the three of us. It was really interesting meeting Bob, but I didn’t really get to know him then.
What were you doing when you were hanging out with him and Robbie?
Just screwing around. It was like an after-show in a hotel suite. He and Bill were playing chess. In between games, me and Robbie Robertson went to the bathroom to do a little line.
You can delete that if you want to. Or print it. Whatever. If you know the situation, you know the situation.
Anyway, that was about the extent of that. Ever since then, I go to see Bob when he plays [the Van Wezel Theater] in my little hometown here. I went to see him there two or three times. He always had me backstage.
When you were on the road with the ‘74 comeback tour, you said you wanted to refine your songwriting. What were you hoping to achieve?
I just was trying to learn something, which I did. I don’t know what it was, but I learned something. Just listening, being around people like Bob. I used to hang around with Billy Joe Shaver all the time. In fact, he and I ran around together during his whole life. He’s one of the great songwriting artists like Bob, but he writes blue-collar old cowboy, dusty-boots type of songs.
Donna: I think Dylan mentions him in a song. “I’m reading James Joyce and listening to Billy Joe Shaver.”
That’s right. Dickey, you and Billy Joe share that, being mentioned in a Dylan song.
Yeah. Anyway, that’s why I was out there getting to know Bob. It was kinda selfish on my part, but that’s the way you learn, you get around people. I’d written songs before, but I was just trying to improve myself. And it helped. I wrote some pretty good stuff.
I know you sat in a number of times in the ‘90s, but did you have much interaction between that Bill Graham–Robbie Robertson tour and then?
No. I just barely got to know Bob. I didn’t hang around while he was writing songs or nothing like Billy Joe. Bob lives way out in California and I live on the other side of the United States. I lived in Nashville for a while and that’s where I really got to know Billy Joe. But Bob has always been on my radar.
A funny story happened when Bob was playing here at the theater we have here in Sarasota [in 1992]. The Van Wezel. Donna, my wife, she’d never met Bob. So Donna and I were going up into Bob’s bus. I knocked and said, “Hey, it’s Dickey.” He said, “Come in.” Donna went in, thinking I was right behind her. Then a bunch of fans got me, so I was hanging around signing autographs and shit, and I got delayed. So she goes and sits down thinking that I was right behind her.
Bob, I don’t know if he thought they sent him a girlfriend or what. [laughs] She was so awkward, and he felt awkward. “So…nice to meet you…”
They went on like that, and she would kid Bob. She would say things like, “You do really well with those words. You ought to think about really making a career out of that.” That’d just tickle the hell out of him. He’s not used to people making fun and joking around with him, because everybody’s so in awe of him.
Another time, Bob wanted do “Ramblin’ Man.” I said, “You don’t know the words to that, do you?” He said, “I know all the words to ‘Ramblin’ Man.’ I shoulda wrote that song myself.” I said, “Okay, let’s check. If you don’t know, just make shit up, and you’ll do well.” So we sang “Ramblin’ Man.” He sang every word exactly the way I wrote it.
Wow, he knew it.
I mean, he knew it! And he sang it better than it’s ever been sung before. [Dickey busts into Dylan impression:] “I’m on my way down to New Or-leans this morning.” He was talking and singing at the same time. It was great.
You’ve got a pretty good Dylan impression.
“I’m on my WAY down to New OrLEANS this MORNING. I’m LEAV-ing out of NASH-ville”… The words meant so much the way he sang it.
[You can hear a little snippet of Dickey’s impression of Dylan singing ‘Ramblin’ Man’ starting at the 3:16 mark here:]
Do you remember sitting in with him at Jazz Fest in New Orleans?
I sat with him a bunch of times. He used to do “Rainy Day Women” all the time when I’d seen him, except that time he wanted to sing “Ramblin’ Man.”
I remember in Tampa he had that Western swing band. They had Nudie suits and standup bass. Oh, man, it was totally different from what he had been doing. The crowd, of course, they loved him. I sat there with him that night and he did that “Rainy Day Women.” Bob was playing lead guitar, and then I would play lead. We’d go back and forth. I asked Jeff [Kramer, Bob’s manager], I said, “Bob is so reclusive and everything, but I’m the only guy that I’ve seen that he invites to just come backstage. Why is that?” He said, “Man, he would give anything to be able to play guitar like you did. You’re his favorite guitar player.”
I don’t mean that now as just self-aggrandizing or nothing. It sounded like I was, but I don’t mean that. It just was a surprise. Bob, he does try to play lead guitar. It’s simple, but he does a good job of it.
What do you guys typically talk about when you’re hanging out backstage shooting the shit?
Songs and boxing stuff. I don’t say much at all; I just hang around and listen. I don’t talk much anyway. Doing this interview is the most I’ve talked in a week.
Donna: You talked about him playing for the Pope.
Dickey: Oh, yeah! He said, “Yes, that was just like another gig to me, playing for the Pope. I think he took a tip from Dalai Lama and decided to befriend some rock stars.”
Donna told you the story about the presidential inauguration, I guess.
[Donna earlier, before Dickey got to the phone: “We went to the ‘92 Clinton inauguration. There were 13 different balls going on, and the Allman Brothers played one. Dickey’s old friends Don Johnson, the actor, and Melanie Griffith, his wife at the time, were hosting it. It was called the Blue Jeans Ball. They had a big jam. Some of the things that evening became a little infamous.”]
I’d love to hear your version of it.
It was quite a ruckus. There was this guy smarting off to everybody in the green room the whole time. He had been telling us all that he was a senator. He was pretty mean.
I went out to play. The band couldn’t play a three-chord blues. We kept losing the chord change and screwing all up. So I just walked off the stage. Let them do it.
When I came back, I guess they had a TV in there. This guy told me I’d better go to the woodshed if I’m going to try to play with the big boys.
I said, “You know, I’m about fed up with your bullshit. I’ve been listening to you all night and I’m tired of hearing it.” He said, “I’ll just take you outside and kick your ass.” I said, “No, you ain’t fucking taking me nowhere. You’ll never make it to the door.”
He started to get up off the couch with his fist balled up. So I just knocked him out. He landed right in Bob’s lap. Bob said, “Well I’m glad somebody knocked that sonofabitch out!”
I split my hand wide open on one of this guy’s teeth. There was blood going everywhere. Don Johnson rushed me to the hospital. When I went back to the hotel, I was scared, really. God, I thought, I done knocked the fucking senator out. What’s going to happen now?
Stephen Stills called my room. He said, “Man, I just want to apologize for that sonofabitch I brought to the show.” I said, “You brought? He was telling everybody he was a senator.” He said, “Bullshit! He’s my goddamn gofer. He goes and gets me some drugs when I need it.” I said, “Well, I sure am relieved to know that.”
Bob, I don’t know if he still does, but he used to practice boxing. He’d go to the boxing gym all the time. Now, every time I see him, he throws a right hand at me in slow motion. He says, “Hey Dick, how’s that right cross doing?” He’s talking about, I guess, President Clinton’s inauguration.
In 1997, Bob put together a multi-artist Jimmie Rodgers tribute album, which you appeared on. How did that come together?
Now that I’m so old, I don’t remember a lot of them word for word, but I used to know so many Jimmie Rodgers songs. I’m very academic when it comes to music. I study a lot of stuff. I sang all kinds of Jimmie Rodgers songs. I guess Bob heard about that, or maybe I sang one in front of him, I don’t know. Anyway, he asked my manager if I wanted to be a guest on that record. I said, “Hell yeah!”
He got a bunch of people that knew who Jimmie Rodgers was and sang some songs. You could do a Jimmie Rodgers song any way you wanted to do it, except you couldn’t change the words to it. I did “Waiting for a Train,” which is not the easiest one to sing.
You got a good yodel going there.
Oh, I tried. A lot of people didn’t try the yodel and that was Jimmie’s whole thing, that blue yodel. I didn’t cowboy yodel or nothing; it was like a blue yodel. It’s more like a moan kind of thing.
I said, I want some old horn players. I don’t want no new guys around town here. I told the producer, I said, “Find me some old guys that played back in the ‘40s. I want somebody that really knows how to play.” He found two guys that played for Benny Goodman — Jerry Jerome and a trumpet player. Jerry was so beautiful. He was about 80 years old, and I said, “Did you know Charlie Christian when you played with Benny Goodman?” He said, “Yeah, he was a good boy, but he did too much of that dope stuff.”
I’ve got one more question. What did you think when you heard “Murder Most Foul” a couple of years ago with the line “Play ‘Blue Sky,’ play Dickey Betts”?
Oh, that was such an honor. All my friends were coming to me saying, “Man, did you hear Bob Dylan’s mentioned you in a song?” I said, “No shit.”
I heard the song. I was so embarrassed, I would say, “Well, he just used me because it rhymes with Getz.” [laughs] People would tell me, “Oh, bullshit,” but anyway, I was very embarrassed because it was such a flattering thing for Bob Dylan to mention you in a song.
The next time you see him, are you going to mention “Murder Most Foul”?
Yeah, probably so. When Bob plays in our hometown here again, I’m going to go see him. I had some good times with Bob, some good experiences. When you sit and play music with people, you never forget it.
Read more about Betts’ life and work in the Rolling Stone obituary.
One of the best shows I’ve ever been to was Dickie Betts (and Great Southern was it?) at a theater in Rhode Island. I wasn’t expecting it but he had the crowd ecstatic. Even he seemed to be a bit stunned by the enthusiasm. My memory is he threw his hat into the audience when he left. I wondered if someone in the crew had to scramble to get it back to him. An exhilarating night.
I loved that story about Dylan knowing "Ramblin' Man" right off the bat. Of course, he seems to know every song that's ever been sung, but you could say why the late Mr. Dickie Betts would have gotten a kick out of it.