Founding members of the Doobie Brothers Johnston and Simmons alternate their perspectives to deliver an amiable, polyphonic history of the band.
It may surprise some readers to know that the Doobies—so named for the ever present joints that surrounded the band for its first decade or so—modeled themselves after Moby Grape, a San Francisco group that never got much traction, even backing up the ill-fated Skip Spence on numerous occasions. Early on, the Doobie Brothers played in Bay Area mountain towns that Ken Kesey and Hunter S. Thompson would make infamous, with lots of Hells Angels in the crowd. Still, Johnston notes, they were playing for plenty of people besides bikers: “We didn’t consider ourselves anything other than a band that was growing and developing.” Drawing on other members of the band, producer Ted Templeman, and other principals, Johnston and Simmons trace the births and fortunes of songs that yielded one hit record after another in the 1970s and ’80s: “Natural Thing,” for instance, some of the magic of which they graciously attribute to engineer Don Landee, who “was really into ‘phasing’ effects.” The authors also praise on T. Rex mastermind Marc Bolan, whom they credit for both entertaining stagecraft and exquisite good manners. “Kind of ironic,” Simmons adds parenthetically, “that, eventually, the Doobie Brothers and T. Rex would be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in the same year, 2020.” It’s clear that there were tensions between some band members—Jeff “Skunk” Baxter doesn’t come off particularly well—and that some fans never got over Michael McDonald changing the direction of the band (replies McDonald, “It may be my voice on some of the songs, but it was the band that adapted everything, not just me”). But what’s most striking is the generosity Johnston and Simmons show to everyone around them, from supporting acts to session players, roadies, and all the band members over the years.
A delightfully unpretentious, pleasing account of rock stardom.