At the relatively young age of 51, my sister Judy passed away in the summer of 2015. Her death caused great sadness to the family – and for me personally enormous regret at conversations never had, time not spent together.
Between us we gave our parents eight grandchildren who thankfully are much closer than Judy and I were – our personalities, politics and perceptions all markedly different, although as the years pass it now seems our outlook on life was not so different after all.
the immaculate second album
Indeed, these days I often find myself berating politicians on all sides with the thought: ‘That’s the sort of thing our Judy would say.’
When speaking at her funeral I evoked Winston Churchill (which she would have been furious at) using his famous perception of Russia (much to her approval) in describing Judy: ‘A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.’
In trying to describe her without sentimentality – which she wouldn’t have wanted anyway – Judy was argumentative, intellectually intimidating and the most well-read person I have ever met (her knowledge of the Middle East, Ireland, World War One and the Russian Revolution was incredible).
Politically unambiguous – never a ‘don’t know‘ as you can no doubt gather – wilful, yet capable of the most breathtaking kindness, of which I was a beneficiary on numerous occasions.
Whether you agreed with her theories on history or not, there was no disputing she knew her stuff. Her taste in music was to be respected as well – Beatles, Dylan, Neil Young, Zeppelin, Springsteen, artists who regularly feature on these pages (oh the delight she would have taken in voicing disagreement) – but at the top of her totem pole, without question, were The Band.
In times spent together, when the topic of conversation turned to music it would not be long before one of us trotted out the immortal ‘the only group good enough to be called simply…‘ line.
In a quiz on their extraordinary body of work, I would back myself to do well – but Judy would be a 10/10, 100 per-center every time.
Feeling her looking over my shoulder – waiting to give correction – the facts on the formation of The Band, as I understand them, are thus. Emerging from early-60s Canada, Robbie Robertson (guitar), Richard Manuel (piano/vocals), Rick Danko (bass/vocals) and Garth Hudson (keyboards), were playing dives and dance halls when they crossed paths with Arkansas-born drummer Levon Helm, the only American in the group, who was currently performing with charismatic rock and roller Ronnie Hawkins.
Becoming his established backing band, known naturally enough as The Hawks, the arrangement ended when Bob Dylan – recognising their astonishing flair and cohesion – decided he wanted them as part of his audacious plan to turn folk into electric rock music.
Touring extensively with Dylan as he spent 1965 & 66 defying convention, when Bob retreated from public scrutiny his hired guns went with him. Spending time in the Big Pink studio near Woodstock, together they worked on the seminal collection of recordings that became known as ‘The Basement Tapes‘ – Dylan finally sanctioning their official release almost ten years later.
With various members of the troupe writing with Dylan, who showed no sign of ending his period of recluse by going back on tour, the logical step was to make an album of their own. Known locally as ‘those guys in the band,’ they decided to call themselves simply The Band, – their erstwhile leader providing the cover artwork for an LP entitled ‘MUSIC FROM BIG PINK‘ (July 1968).
From the ‘Basement’ sessions they took ‘Tears of Rage‘ (Dylan/Manuel) and ‘This Wheel’s on Fire‘ (Dylan/Danko) and cut the definitive version of each – but such is the scope of this incredible record they are just two more jewels in the treasure trove.
Although it would take until the next album for Robertson to fully assert himself as the principal song writer, his guile and lightness of touch is already apparent on ‘To Kingdom Come‘, ‘Chest Fever‘ and most obviously ‘The Weight‘ – a compelling piece encompassing country, gospel, folk and soul, the outstanding voices of Helm, Danko and Manuel delivering a lyric full of intriguing twists and Biblical imagery.
Throughout this most profound of albums, the playing, vocalising and arrangements – framed by the dual keyboard refrains of Hudson and Manuel – are intense but at the same time effortlessly instinctive, theirs an internal telepathy that was simply unmatched.
Recording one of the truly great debut albums threw up the challenge of how they could ever surpass it – following up in the only way possible, by releasing arguably the greatest rock record ever made.
With Robertson now the primary source of material, ‘THE BAND‘ (September 1969), is not a concept album with a continuous narrative like others appearing at the same time, its general theme being the experience of America from the perspective of a Canadian outsider. Absorbing its history, landscape and rural heartlands, the observer is exhilarated, beguiled and frightened by what he sees.
Across a broad canvas Robertson not only plots songs astounding in their cinematic sweep but writes brilliant literature – so vivid is his evocation of the American Civil War in ‘The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down‘, the listener (as some have) could be forgiven in thinking the song was a hundred years old.
While the words and music are largely a personal triumph for Robertson, the ensemble playing is so dextrous it elevates the material to an untouchable level of purity and purpose – songs such as ‘Across the Great Divide‘, ‘Rag Mama Rag‘, ‘Up on Cripple Creek‘, and ‘When You Awake‘ blending impeccable song craft with innovative instrumentation.
On ‘King Harvest (Has Surely Come)’, a dramatic tale of a failed homestead and imminent eviction, the urgency in the playing increases with each verse, as does a stunning vocal from Manuel – the tension almost unbearable as the story reaches its conclusion. When guitarists all around him in 1969 were playing fast and flash, Robertson underpins the song with restrained, economical guitar lines – The Band setting themselves apart by proving less is more.
There are a handful of artists, Dylan, Randy Newman, Jackson Browne, at a push Rod Stewart, who have begun their careers with two great records – but only The Band have opened their account with two authentic masterpieces.
Such is the level of accomplishment, this pair of albums would overshadow the rest of their recording career. From anyone else ‘STAGE FRIGHT‘ (August 1970) would have sounded remarkable – the title track, ‘The Shape I’m In‘ and ‘Time to Kill‘ are indispensable – but overall, it lacks the consistency of its predecessors.
Their next album ‘CAHOOTS‘ (September 1971), saw Judy and I on opposite sides when assessing a curious, dare it be said, sometimes lacklustre set.
She adored it – an atmospheric cover of Dylan’s ‘When I Paint My Masterpiece‘ is an absolute joy, ‘Life Is a Carnival‘ with its blaring horns and funky bass line, quite sublime – but to these ears, inspiration often sounds in short supply (even ‘4% Pantomime‘, written and performed with Van Morrison sounds a touch laboured).
Not awful by any means, ‘Cahoots‘ is their first album not to be essential.
The double live album ‘ROCK OF AGES‘ (August 1972) – recorded at a series of New York shows the previous year when The Band were augmented by a horn section – is a formidable collection that would remain the best live album to be made until they released ‘The Last Waltz‘ soundtrack six years later.
Concerns that Robertson was struggling to come up with new material were emphasised by ‘MOONDOG MATINEE‘ (October 1973) – a clutch of their favourite songs from the early days of rock and roll. While for the most part a pleasurable listen (their reading of ‘Mystery Train‘ is a riot), it all sounds a bit too easy and somehow beneath them.
The same year they took a further sideways step by re-convening with Dylan for his ‘Planet Waves‘ album. If the studio reunion never quite ignited, the ensuing US tour undertaken in the early months of 1974 had its moments – some of which were captured on ‘Before the Flood‘ (June 1974) a double live set, credited to Bob Dylan and The Band.
If anything, it is The Band who walk away with the honours, the side allocated to them particularly impressive – no more so than on the previously unreleased Robertson gem ‘Endless Highway‘, the high-point of the four sides.
Their four-year recording hiatus finally ended with ‘NORTHERN LIGHTS – SOUTHERN CROSS’ (November 1975) – Robertson submitting eight lengthy pieces that at their best show the group working with renewed buoyancy.
‘Ophelia‘ is a return to the sass and exuberance of ‘Up on Cripple Creek,’ Robertson writing his most personal lyric yet for ‘It Makes No Difference‘, a love song of painstaking tenderness that he and Hudson bring to an end with gorgeous interplay between guitar and saxophone – this after Danko has produced the most affecting vocal of his career.
But even those two majestic two songs are eclipsed by the heart-stopping ‘Arcadian Driftwood‘, which chronicles the displacement of Acadians from Nova Scotia and Brunswick in the middle of the 18th Century. Haunting and evocative, the tale concludes when Helm with moving eloquence sings, ‘set my compass north I’ve got winter in my blood.’
It is hard to think of song which bares comparison and proves once and for all nobody could match Robertson for poetic detail and historical resonance. Nobody at all.
While the music displayed more coherence than it had in years, behind the scenes the group were wracked by internal strife. In photographs and on stage – where there was no obvious front man – The Band always appeared the most insular of rock groups, but their unity was now beginning to crumble under a surfeit of drugs and clashing egos.
Daunted by the prospect of extensive touring to promote the record, a decision was taken to call time on their days as a performing outfit – reaching the end of the line at the Winterland Theatre, San Francisco on November 25, 1976, The Band saying farewell to the road in an event known as ‘The Last Waltz‘.
Filmed by renowned director and Band devotee Martin Scorsese, it became an occasion befitting of their achievements – Hawkins, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Dr John, Neil Diamond, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, Muddy Waters, Ringo Starr and Ron Wood among the cast who take turns in sharing the stage with them.
The film quickly became established as the best in-concert movie ever shot and was interspersed with interviews where group members look back on their journey or contemplate the future – their feelings ranging from relief to uncertainty.
Toward the end of the Winterland show Robertson tells the audience: ‘We’d like to bring out one more very good friend of ours……..Bob Dylan‘. When he and The Band join forces for ‘Forever Young‘ (which they recorded together on ‘Planet Waves‘), it is a scene that defines mid-70s rock in the way Jimi Hendrix playing ‘The Star Spangled Banner‘ at Woodstock, defined the late-60s.
For a group quickly closing the door on their career, ‘ISLANDS‘ (March 1977) was suitably patchy, three or four serene tracks just about offsetting some obvious filler.
When the momentous triple-LP soundtrack to ‘THE LAST WALTZ‘ (April 1978) was released, it brought a slew of ecstatic reviews, although harmony amongst the now estranged group appeared to have evaporated. Helm, openly rancorous toward Robertson, was accusing his former ally of being authoritarian and selfish in respect of song-writing credits – furious also that Robertson received sole producer title on ‘The Last Waltz‘ album.
Remaining highly critical of Robertson until the end of his days, the two were not thought to have reconciled before the drummer died of throat cancer in April 2012.
Forging a working relationship with Scorsese, Robertson would serve as music consultant on a number the director’s early-80s productions (‘Raging Bull‘, ‘The King of Comedy‘, ‘The Color of Money‘) and maintained a far higher profile than his former bandmates, who with the decade unfolding had largely disappeared from view.
In 1983 they reassembled, hiring guitarist Jim Weider in place of Robertson, for a ‘comeback’ concert, with the following year bringing rumours of a possible reuniting with Dylan (speculation going as far to suggest Dylan, Helm and Danko had drawn up a set-list). But Robertson wanted no part of the project, citing a reluctance to undermine ‘The Last Waltz‘ (‘after we’d made such a big thing of saying goodbye‘).
Unlike the others, he had steady income from song-writing royalties and perhaps felt the money and associated aggravation were not worth the effort. Needing to boost their flagging finances, Danko, Manuel, Hudson and Helm, along with Weider, went out on tour as The Band, but once interest and audiences’ numbers began to dwindle found themselves existing in reduced circumstances – the situation eventually becoming intolerable for Manuel, by reputation always the most fragile of the group, who took his own life in a Florida hotel room on March 4, 1986.
In a documentary marking the thirtieth anniversary of their recording debut, Danko looked a sorrowful sight to behold. Once handsome of face and so soulful of voice, but now overweight and virtually incomprehensible, he succumbed to his drug habit in the closing days of 1999.
For all the disputes, dashed hopes and underlying sadness attached to their story, the undeniable magnificence of the music will always abide. Many could boast far bigger record sales (The Band never threatened to have a number one single or album) others were more vaunted in reputation without having a shred of their class – the glorious sound The Band created floating like sweet fragrance through the air.
The only person I am aware of more enraptured by them than Judy is George Harrison.
If I had one wish it would be the two of them in a place where there is always ‘the smell of the leaves, from the magnolia trees in the meadow,’ discussing the merits of a group he described as: ‘The best rock band in the history of the planet.’
And he knew a thing or two about great rock bands did George.
This article was first published on September 12 2019.
THE BAND Discography 1968-1978:
MUSIC FROM BIG PINK (1968) A; THE BAND (1969) A+; STAGE FRIGHT (1970) A-; CAHOOTS (1971) B; ROCK OF AGES (1972) A; MOONDOG MATINEE (1973) B; NORTHERN LIGHTS SOUTHERN CROSS (1975) A; ISLANDS (1977) B+; THE LAST WALTZ (Soundtrack 1978) A;
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NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of ‘MONTY’S DOUBLE‘ – an acclaimed thriller now available as an Amazon Kindle Book.