The Record Store Years (Side Trip): Tommy Bolin 1976

A memoir of 25 years (1975-2000) spent working in the world of records & music in Seattle, with occasional side trips into writings on Led Zeppelin and other adventures from my musical life.

The following is a piece I wrote in 2022 for a Tommy Bolin fan website, now defunct. Bolin was a huge inspiration and influence on me as a fledgling rock guitarist in the mid-‘70s, and in my memory his story is forever linked with my early days at Cellophane Square.

Written as it was for a fan site, this piece assumes a certain amount of knowledge about Bolin by the reader. Anyone unfamiliar with him and interested in rock guitar is encouraged to follow up on his Wikipedia page and the authorized website https://www.tommybolinofficial.com.

Far from a household name then or now, he was a musician’s musician who died too young from substance abuse in December 1976, and though his recorded legacy is spotty his playing remains unique and influential to this day. The most representative recordings of his talent and dazzling guitar work (and my favorites, in order) would be as follows:

-        Teaser (Tommy Bolin) Nemporer Records 1975 – his first solo album

-        Spectrum (Billy Cobham) Atlantic Records 1973 – as sideman

-        Zephyr (Self-titled debut) ABC Records 1969 – TB’s first major-label band

-        Miami (The James Gang) Atco Records 1974 – his second of two albums with this band, replacing Joe Walsh

-        Come Taste The Band (Deep Purple) Warner Bros/Purple Records 1975 – his only studio work as Ritchie Blackmore’s replacement in DP

There is other good stuff out there including quite a few posthumous boutique-label releases authorized by his family, however for the uninitiated these five LPs are a good place to start.

The Tommy Bolin Band in Seattle and Tacoma, Washington October 1976

I saw the Tommy Bolin Band perform two nights in a row opening for Rush; at the Paramount Northwest Theatre in Seattle on October 28, 1976, and at the Tacoma Bicentennial Pavilion on October 29, 1976.

I first knew of Tommy from Zephyr's debut album in 1969, which I bought shortly after its release based on a review I read comparing it to Led Zeppelin and Janis Joplin, and I loved it. As a James Gang fan I also picked up on Bang when it came out in 1973, but I don't believe at the time I made the connection that the new guitarist was the same guy I'd loved from Zephyr.

It didn't take me long to figure it out, and by the time Teaser came out in ‘75 I was primed for it, and quickly moved into hardcore fan territory. Working at Cellophane Square gave me the opportunity to catch up on his widely varied career and in short order I rounded up everything he had recorded, as well as some live bootleg tapes, promo posters and other memorabilia.

I was dying to see him live and was very excited when the Rush dates were announced with Tommy as the opening act. Unfortunately, the experience ended up being a mix of exhilaration and disappointment. In those days most concerts in Seattle were general admission, and people would line up early in the day to assure a good spot in a seated venue like the Paramount. I secured a spot mid-afternoon that guaranteed me a great seat but right away I was put off by the crowd - already drunk and rowdy, and 100% hardcore Rush fans. Tommy who?

When the show started, Tommy and the band came out to a fairly good response. A few people seemed to at least know who he was and there were a handful of fans like myself, some that even called out song requests. Despite the partisan Rush crowd, the setting should have been good for an up-and-coming opening act, however it was apparent from the first note that there were sound problems. The vocal mics were feeding back, the guitar was too low and the overall mix muddy.

Things improved slightly as the first song progressed to where you could at least hear the guitar and sax, but throughout the set there continued to be distracting squeals of feedback from the vocal & sax mics. The band soldiered through and played well, though Tommy's singing was often out of tune (he probably couldn't hear himself well through the monitors) and his between song comments were hard to understand - more or less mumbled to begin with, and garbled through the PA system. The band received a reasonable response at the end of their set, and I left relatively happy with the performance and completely disappointed with the bad sound.

The next night in Tacoma the sound was improved a bit, but unfortunately the crowd was much more hostile - fewer people were aware of the TBB and occasional shouts of 'go home!' started early in the set. Even more distressing was Tommy's demeanor addressing the crowd between songs - he projected more rock star bravado than the previous night (which met with mixed reaction), but his speech was slurred and the crowd remained largely unresponsive.

Again, the band played great - probably even better than the previous night - and none of this is to say that there weren't some thrilling moments for a TB fan. I think it's important to note that while Tommy was noticeably inebriated when he spoke and to some degree when he sang, his guitar playing was uniformly great. I remember reading something where Billy Cobham claimed that they were all 'blasted' while recording Spectrum, and I can believe it. When Tommy lit into a solo it was pure inspiration from the soul, and from what I saw he could play guitar no matter what condition he was in (excepting the bad hand incident with Deep Purple in Japan).

The high point of the Tacoma show - and it was pretty incredible - was when Tommy & drummer Mark Craney did a two-man jam coming out of a drum solo following "You Told Me That You Loved Me." Craney set up a driving, fusion-y beat, Tommy turned his back to the hostile audience, leaned back as far as he could and just wailed on his guitar for about 3 minutes, matching grooves and playing call & response with the drummer. It was one of the most exciting musical things I've ever seen and it totally confirmed my admiration of Tommy Bolin as a musician. It was frickin' amazing.

Aside from that onstage moment, the most memorable thing for me about the Tacoma show was meeting Tommy afterwards. I wish I could say I hung out & shot the breeze with him, but it was a much more furtive, brief encounter than that.

The venue was pretty low-key compared to Seattle and the backstage door was accessible and un-guarded. Even though it was October, it was propped wide open as I cautiously came around the side of the building. To my delight, as I peeked around the edge of the door I could see Tommy about 30 feet away. He had a drink in his hand and was chatting with someone, hanging out. I moved further into the doorway and raised my hand to try and get his attention - it worked - and he sauntered over with a rock star swagger and a smile.

I have to admit I was a total fanboy (19 years old) - I said, "I saw you last night, and came again, I love the records so much and I'm so sorry you have to open for Rush and face these assholes in the crowd!"

Tommy was totally charming - and sloshed - thanked me for the kudos and said something like, "Yeah, when they told me Rush I thought, who? Mahogany Rush?". I asked if he would sign my ticket stub and he was very gracious about it, and seemed truly touched that I was a sincere fan.

The whole encounter lasted about 2 minutes and it left me with such an overwhelming mix of feelings. Here I had met one of my Guitar Gods and seen him perform some mind-bending feats of six-string wizardry, while at the same time I struggled with the hostile environment and the undeniable fact that Tommy was messed up. I came away from it elated and at the same time with a sense of foreboding.

And sure enough, just over a month later he was dead. I was devastated - spilled real tears - but I feel so lucky to have caught him and cherish the memories, however fraught the experience might have been.

NEXT: The Big Guns of Record Retail Come To Seattle