The Factory, St. Louis, December 3, 2025
On the opening night of its 2025 run, Devon Allman and Duane Betts turned the Factory in suburban St. Louis into sacred ground, proving once again that the music of the Allman Brothers Band doesn’t just endure—it still kicks down doors, lifts spirits, and breaks hearts fifty-plus years after its birth.
The evening detonated with the unmistakable riff of “Hot ’Lanta,” and from that first unison lick it was clear this band means business. The core unit—Devon Allman and Duane Betts on guitars and vocals, slide master Johnny Stachela, keyboardist John Ginty, bassist Berry Oakley Jr., percussionist John Lum—locked in with telepathic precision, the kind of chemistry that only comes from years of shared stages and deeper bloodlines. Two drummers and congas in the pocket all night long gave every groove that classic, rolling thunder feel—like the Fillmore East never closed.
Devon’s weathered, soul-deep vocal on “Call It Stormy Monday but Tuesday Is Just as Bad” set the emotional bar skyscraper-high. You could almost hear Gregg smiling somewhere in the ether. When Jimmy Hall strode out blowing harp and snarling through “Statesboro Blues,” the room levitated. Hall, a longtime ABB comrade, would return all night, most electrifyingly trading verses with Judith Hill on “No One to Run With.” Hill—voice like a cathedral on fire—was the night’s undisputed revelation, wrapping “Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More” around the rafters and leaving scorch marks.
Duane Betts claimed “Blue Sky” with a sun-drenched vocal and a solo that honored his father without ever imitating him—every bend and run felt fresh, earned, and utterly his own. Devon’s “Melissa” dropped the room into hushed, candlelit reverence so complete you could hear the ice clinking in cups at the bar. Then Richard Fortus (Guns N’ Roses) ignited “Dreams” with a solo as ferocious as it was faithful, channeling Dickey’s spirit with a snarl that made the hair on 2,000 necks stand at attention.
Violin phenom Abby Stahlschmidt and rising star Mattie Schell wove aching string beauty into “Come and Go Blues,” turning a mid-tempo gem into something that felt like a front-porch sunset in July. Amanda Shires added fearless harmony and fiddle fire throughout, her Texas twang and fearless phrasing the perfect counterpoint to the Georgia grit. By the time the band stretched “Jessica” past the ten-minute mark, traded blistering licks on “One Way Out,” and tore the roof off with “Southbound,” every generational wall had crumbled. All the guitars, violins, and twin drums trading eights—pure controlled chaos that somehow landed right in the pocket every time.
Deep cuts surfaced like buried treasure: the rarely played “Can You Fool,” a sometimes forgotten Allman Brothers rave-up that felt brand-new again; Gregg’s haunting “Multi-Colored Lady” floating on Ginty’s B-3 like a ghost saying one last tender goodbye; a triumphant “Back Where It All Begins” that felt like a mission statement. They even slipped in the Allman Betts Band original “Magnolia Road” seamlessly, proof the family tree is still growing new branches.
The night closed, naturally, with “Midnight Rider,” every guest storming the stage for a glorious, all-hands pile-on that turned the entire Factory into one roaring choir. When the final chord faded and the house lights rose, the message was unmistakable: the Allman Brothers Band’s spirit isn’t preserved in amber—it’s alive, restless, and passing the torch to new hands that know exactly how bright to let it burn. The Family Revival just lit the fuse on what’s sure to be another legendary run. If you’ve got even a drop of Southern rock in your veins, do not miss this caravan while it’s rolling through your town.