By Gary Linehan

People may come for the nostalgia, but Bill Champlin hopes they’ll leave with something new a new outlook, a new appreciation, perhaps a new album.

The Sons of Champlin, a landmark band from San Francisco’s psychedelic’60s era, will appear in concert at 8 p.m. Wednesday, March 1, at the Black Oak Casino in Tuolumne. Admission is free to guests 21 and over.

The Sons of Champlin were an integral part of the cultural tapestry that was the San Francisco music scene of the Fillmore and Avalon ballrooms. Yet their sound, with a Hammond B-3 organ and soulful horns, was unlike any of the Bay Area’s reigning guitar bands.

“I liked the R&B sound, but I didn’t care for the lyrics, so I was writing about what was happening socially at the time,” founder Bill Champlin recalled from his home in Nashville. “We were a cross-over band in that sense, but we were thumping too.”

The Sons recorded seven albums between 1968 and 1977, then took a 20-year hiatus before reuniting in 1997.

They recorded their first live album, “Sons of Champlin Live,” in 1998, followed by the concert DVD “Secret” in 2002 and their latest CD, “Hip Li’l Dreams” in 2005.

Champlin, on vocals, organ, and guitar, will appear Wednesday with original members James Preston on drums, David Schallock on bass and Geoff Palmer on keyboards, vibraphone and baritone saxophone.

They will be joined by two Tower of Power alumni Marc Russo on alto and tenor saxophones, and Mic Gillette, a favorite at the Columbia College Jazz Series, on trumpet, trombone and tuba along with Carmen Grillo on guitar and vocals.

“Carmen was the best man at my wedding 24 years ago,” Champlin said. “When you hear him sing, it will tear you up. He plays an incredible lead guitar and is a scary singer. He’s just a real bad boy.”

In addition to leading the Sons, Champlin has been vocalist for the band Chicago since 1981.

“It’s just a matter of finding time to do everything,” Champlin said of performing in two top-level bands.

Chicago plays 80 to 100 shows a year, compared with 16 to 20 for the Sons of Champlin.

“We’re going out for two weeks in March and two weeks in April, then we’ll probably do a handful more shows in August,” Champlin said of the Sons’ 2006 schedule. “We like the new album and we’re trying to get people next to it.”

Chicago which played the Jackson Rancheria two weeks ago and will soon release a new album produced by Jay DeMarcus of Rascal Flatts just signed a contract with the MGM Hotel in Las Vegas.

“We’ll play in two-week increments, which is good, because after about a week in Vegas you can feel your feet opening up and your soul draining away,” he said. “People don’t go there looking for spirituality.”

Looking back on his 40-year musical career, Champlin recalled, “I was 14 when I started and all the other guys were in their 30s. Now it’s the other way around. Time flies when you’re burning out.”

The difference between the Sons now and then is experience, he said.

“If you had the same guys from the ‘60s and they kept playing and learning, and then you put them in the year 2000, it sounds just like that,” Champlin said. “People come to our shows looking for nostalgia, but they walk away saying, Wow, that was a gas."

After the Sons disbanded in 1977, Champlin moved to Los Angeles, releasing a solo album in 1978 and appearing on hundreds of recordings from country to opera.

“I went from a Nancy Wilson jazz album to a Donny and Marie recording session in one day,” he said. “You’ve just got to love it all.”

Last June, Champlin and his wife of 24 years, Tamara, moved to Nashville.

“I’m looking out my window at five acres, and my next door neighbor is George Jones, who has 180 acres,” Champlin said. “The other day I heard guns going off, and there was something oddly organic about that. In L.A., you‘d be getting inside as fast as you could and there’d be helicopters flying overhead.”

Besides the Southern California traffic, Champlin was disenchanted with the music scene there. “It’s all about your looks and what kind of video director you can get,” he said. “That doesn’t have anything to do with me, so I had to ask myself, what am I really here for? I’ve got Grammys and been on more than 300 records and that doesn’t mean anything in L.A. you’re no one unless you’ve at least been a runner up on American Idol.“

With the Sons of Champlin, he said, it’s all about playing.

“Anybody who goes to see us knows they’re in for a fun night,” he said. “The Sons are very rehearsal oriented. We’re always trying to put a different slant on things, always trying to improve the groove. All the hard work is done in rehearsal, then when it’s time to play, it’s just fun. It’s like keeping a dog in a cage for a long time and then giving him a football field to run on.”

And in case anyone was still wondering, Champlin explained the origin of the band’s name.

“I got married really young I had a kid in high school, so they called me Father Champlin,” he said. “Our band was called the Master Beats, but nobody would hire us with that name, so somebody said how about the Sons of Champlin?’ and it stuck.”

Champlin’s counterculture lifestyle often clashed with that of his Republican father, who once ran for office in Oakland.

“I remember seeing the back of a city bus with a psychedelic poster for the Sons of Champlin at the Fillmore on one side and a poster that said Vote Champlin’ for my dad on the other side,” he said. “My father used to tell me patience is a virtue’ and I’d say would you say that a little faster please?“

Besides success, longevity has yielded other satisfactions, Champlin said.

“I don’t have to care anymore,” he said. “I’ve reached the point where I see the world as it is and say what I mean.”

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