1971's Cahoots is often seen as continuing The Band's gradual decline in creative energy and vitality, but I do not necessarily endorse that assessment, seeing it more as the onset of a plateau. The album contains fewer "famous" songs than its predecessor, Stage Fright, but I don't see it as significantly weaker.
Stage Fright feels to me like a collection of distinct songs, mostly pretty good ones it must be said, if lacking the charm and mystique of those from the first two records released by the group. Cahoots is more impenetrable, enigmatic and dark, less straightforward to define and, on the surface at least, not as easy to love. Even the mix seems muddy, without the exuberant and sharp clarity of earlier works.
The two best known tracks are featured up-front at the beginning of the record, the New Orleans-flavoured "Life Is A Carnival" and "When I Paint My Masterpiece", composed by Bob Dylan. The latter is a spirited and likeable effort, with some exotic hues, and elevated by an endearing lead vocal by Levon Helm. It evokes some of the mystery and the qualities which had made The Band so important and refreshing.
"Last Of The Blacksmiths" is a song which in style and tone might have sat comfortably on Stage Fright. It is ideally suited to Richard Manuel's voice, and he is on fine form here.
Coming up next, "Where Do We Go From Here?" adds credence to the notion that in the early Seventies, The Band's songs were beginning to sound rather too similar to each other. This may have been a symptom of diminishing creative powers. This number is harmless enough, but it does verge on the anodyne.
"4% Pantomime" is a collaboration with Van Morrison. It has a pleasant R&B character, and Van's contributions alone make it worthwhile, adding an extra dimension. The trademark "Band" organ sound is also much in evidence. It is a shame that this combination (The Band and Van) did not join forces more frequently on record.
If one was feeling uncharitable, it might be contended that "Shoot Out In Chinatown" represents "The Band by numbers". It is hardly surprising that Robbie Robertson's ideas were less potent and inventive by this time, when one considers the extraordinary burst of fecundity in the period 1968-70.
Next up, "The Moon Struck One" stands out slightly, due to another heartfelt Richard Manuel vocal, and a more inventive, confident melody and arrangement, endowing the track with a more gripping, almost hypnotic atmosphere. Some passionate singing helps "Thinkin' Out Loud", along with Robbie's Robertson's understated but affecting guitar-playing.
Like many Band numbers, "Smoke Signal" has lyrics which are worth taking close notice of, even if the tune here is itself nothing out of the ordinary. As with much of the band's post-1969 output, the vocal harmonies have become too "regular", somehow eschewing the wonderfully ragged vocal style on Music From Big Pink in particular.
"Volcano" constitutes a welcome change, including some lively horns and a nice helping of Robbie's distinctive "brittle" guitar work. This song is minor, but entertaining nevertheless.
The record concludes with "The River Hymn", which is more cinematic in its scope than most of the other items here. A gospel feel is very discernible, with the occasional glimpse of the combo's former magic. It finishes the album on some kind of high note.
It would be erroneous to describe Cahoots as "uneven", because few of its songs really stand out for any reason. The intensity may be lacking, but the music is well-crafted as always, and it is also a document of where the group, and perhaps the world in general, was in the early 1970s. In its own way, it has a nebulous, quirky appeal.
Showing posts with label garth hudson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garth hudson. Show all posts
Friday, 1 July 2016
Monday, 30 March 2015
The Band - The Band (the second album) - album review
Following on from my blog post about The Band's debut album (Music From Big Pink), I thought I'd take a look at the 1969 follow-up, their self-titled magnum opus.
The Bob Dylan influence is much less overt, and there is virtually no discernible overlap with the folk-rock and/or psychedelic movements. Robbie Robertson's blossoming songwriting prowess is clear for all to see, and the songs sound much less derivative of particular styles. On this work The Band almost created their own sub-genre from a stew of diverse musical influences. It is a thrilling snapshot of a potent idea more or less fully crystallizing.
This record also feels more philosophically and spiritually "together", although that perception may not hold up to minute scrutiny. Above all, the key to this album's enduring quality and allure is its sheer " musicality", and it reminds us that passion, soul and ingenuity are at least as important as conventional technical prowess or virtuosity in generating art.
The first number "Across The Great Divide" sets things up perfectly. That opening line ("standing by your window in pain...") invites the listener on an invigorating journey. Those bars encapsulate so much of what makes them a captivating act.
"Rag Mama Rag" illustrates the subtle advance which was made between the first album and this one. I have heard Robbie Robertson say how proud he was of this track, and one can see why. So many elements contribute towards its uniqueness - Rick Danko's violin, Garth Hudson's twinkling piano, the humour of the lyrics and the blending of "unusual" instruments. Intangible magic is the result.
Among the general public, "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" is the best known song on this record, and one of the most famous in The Band's oeuvre. A powerful piece of work, with a theme which was probably "unfashionable" for its time. To be frank, I have never truly warmed to it, possibly because I was familiar with it before I discovered, and embraced, the group's wider body of work.
On an LP of this quality it is harsh to speak of "lesser" tracks, but the likes of "Rockin' Chair" and "When You Awake" constitute the glue which holds it together. The former contains some lovely and touching lyrics. One of the things which set The Band apart from most of their contemporaries was the variety and imagination of the topics which were addressed in the compositions. The acclaim which was (rightly) accorded to their music sometimes concealed their willingness to tackle dark or uncomfortable themes. As with the "Big Pink" album, the deliciously ragged and earthy harmonies emanating from three distinct voices permeate the piece.
"Up On Cripple Creek" is cut in a similar vein to "Rag Mama Rag", and could be categorized as "country funk", a label which was often assigned to Little Feat, a group which was seemingly heavily influenced by The Band. The groove is irresistible but idiosyncratic. The clavinet both accentuates the "funkiness" and in a strange way complements it, as it sounds rustic and bucolic as well as rhythmic. The song also highlights the importance of varied keyboard textures in the make-up and vitality of the band's music.
A change of mood is supplied by "Whispering Pines", which also serves as a showcase for Richard Manuel's vocals, such a feature of the first two albums in particular. Fragile, shaky but a gripping listen. Inventive use of keyboards and vocal interplay to engender the requisite atmosphere.
Two of the most impressive and affecting songs appear towards the end of the album. "Jawbone" has received comparatively scant phrase, possibly a result of its musical complexity, but to me it is one of the work's cornerstones. Another vocal tour-de-force from Richard Manuel, expressing and interpreting some strong and incisive lyrics.
"King Harvest (Has Surely Come)" has been rightly revered by the critics. Almost Steinbeckesque in its setting and poetic sentiments, with Manuel once again in inspired form. At first glance, the R&B backing might seem incongruous, but it actually works beautifully. A real high point of The Band's catalogue, and it can be persuasively argued that they never achieved this level again.
How do I sum up "The Band"? Well, let me just say that if I was being banished to a desert island, and was allowed to take just one album with me, I would almost certainly plump for this one. Its innate musicality, humanity and zest for life still sustain me today, almost two decades since I first heard it. Whenever I listen to it after a period "away" it refreshes my enthusiasm for music in all its forms, and makes me glad to be alive.
This record also feels more philosophically and spiritually "together", although that perception may not hold up to minute scrutiny. Above all, the key to this album's enduring quality and allure is its sheer " musicality", and it reminds us that passion, soul and ingenuity are at least as important as conventional technical prowess or virtuosity in generating art.
The first number "Across The Great Divide" sets things up perfectly. That opening line ("standing by your window in pain...") invites the listener on an invigorating journey. Those bars encapsulate so much of what makes them a captivating act.
"Rag Mama Rag" illustrates the subtle advance which was made between the first album and this one. I have heard Robbie Robertson say how proud he was of this track, and one can see why. So many elements contribute towards its uniqueness - Rick Danko's violin, Garth Hudson's twinkling piano, the humour of the lyrics and the blending of "unusual" instruments. Intangible magic is the result.
Among the general public, "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" is the best known song on this record, and one of the most famous in The Band's oeuvre. A powerful piece of work, with a theme which was probably "unfashionable" for its time. To be frank, I have never truly warmed to it, possibly because I was familiar with it before I discovered, and embraced, the group's wider body of work.
On an LP of this quality it is harsh to speak of "lesser" tracks, but the likes of "Rockin' Chair" and "When You Awake" constitute the glue which holds it together. The former contains some lovely and touching lyrics. One of the things which set The Band apart from most of their contemporaries was the variety and imagination of the topics which were addressed in the compositions. The acclaim which was (rightly) accorded to their music sometimes concealed their willingness to tackle dark or uncomfortable themes. As with the "Big Pink" album, the deliciously ragged and earthy harmonies emanating from three distinct voices permeate the piece.
"Up On Cripple Creek" is cut in a similar vein to "Rag Mama Rag", and could be categorized as "country funk", a label which was often assigned to Little Feat, a group which was seemingly heavily influenced by The Band. The groove is irresistible but idiosyncratic. The clavinet both accentuates the "funkiness" and in a strange way complements it, as it sounds rustic and bucolic as well as rhythmic. The song also highlights the importance of varied keyboard textures in the make-up and vitality of the band's music.
A change of mood is supplied by "Whispering Pines", which also serves as a showcase for Richard Manuel's vocals, such a feature of the first two albums in particular. Fragile, shaky but a gripping listen. Inventive use of keyboards and vocal interplay to engender the requisite atmosphere.
Two of the most impressive and affecting songs appear towards the end of the album. "Jawbone" has received comparatively scant phrase, possibly a result of its musical complexity, but to me it is one of the work's cornerstones. Another vocal tour-de-force from Richard Manuel, expressing and interpreting some strong and incisive lyrics.
"King Harvest (Has Surely Come)" has been rightly revered by the critics. Almost Steinbeckesque in its setting and poetic sentiments, with Manuel once again in inspired form. At first glance, the R&B backing might seem incongruous, but it actually works beautifully. A real high point of The Band's catalogue, and it can be persuasively argued that they never achieved this level again.
How do I sum up "The Band"? Well, let me just say that if I was being banished to a desert island, and was allowed to take just one album with me, I would almost certainly plump for this one. Its innate musicality, humanity and zest for life still sustain me today, almost two decades since I first heard it. Whenever I listen to it after a period "away" it refreshes my enthusiasm for music in all its forms, and makes me glad to be alive.
Friday, 12 December 2014
Music From Big Pink - The Band - album review
There are relatively few rock albums which can be said to have heralded a shift in the prevailing direction of rock music, but The Band's Music From Big Pink, released in 1968, is one of those. Its honesty and earthiness went against the trends of the time, and persuaded listeners and fellow musicians alike that there was another way. It also came to epitomize the notion of "Americana", in rock music terms anyway.
In truth, the true "Band" sound did not fully emerge until 1969's eponymous second album, but Music From Big Pink had something approaching a seismic impact. The likes of Eric Clapton and George Harrison were enraptured, not just by the musical content, but also by the ethos and the modus operandi which underpinned it. There was no suggestion of The Band confronting the existing music scene ; they just played what came from their hearts and souls.
In asserting that the group's signature style was not fully shaped on the debut effort, we are acknowledging that they had only just struck out on their own, having spent much of the previous decade backing other people, most famously Bob Dylan of course. The Dylan/Basement Tapes influence is still keenly felt, with three of the songs originating from that era. In addition, Robbie Robertson did not yet dominate the songwriting stakes as he did on the "brown album" the following year. This renders the album less cohesive than its successor.
It is one of the numbers co-written by Bob Dylan, "Tears Of Rage", which opens the record, and for me it is one of the highlights. The boys make the track their own, and Richard Manuel's superb vocal brings out the full poignancy of the lyrics. As so often with The Band, the keyboards are much to the fore, but all the band members contribute in creating a most engrossing rendition. This is also an early taste of the distinctive vocal harmonies which would help to make The Band's music so captivating. Three distinct voices (Richard Manuel, Levon Helm, Rick Danko), blending and weaving together in a kind of ragged glory. Few groups could boast a performance as confident and affecting as this to open their debut album.
This vocal interplay plays a prominent role in "To Kingdom Come", especially in the choruses. This track exudes the R&B-influenced ruggedness which would come to characterize much of the Band's best output in the years which followed.
Although The Band were often cited as an antidote to psychedelic music and its excesses and pretensions, they came perilously close here to making a psychedelic song, in the form of "In A Station". The mildly ethereal keyboard and guitar sounds, together with some of the lyrics, certainly point in that direction. However, these factors are counter-balanced by the homeliness and finesse typical of the group.
I always feel that "Caledonia Mission" is a Band song par excellence, with its blend of country/folk flavours with R&B funkiness, and its enigmatic but compelling lyrics. Perhaps Rick Danko's most impressive lead vocal performance with The Band.
"The Weight" is possibly the group's most famous song, and it has an enduring appeal, part of which is in interpreting the biblical and other imagery. I think that many people imagine that the song is espousing the sense of community which is often associated with the group's music, but it seems that it was intended to be somewhat more complicated than that. What I really like is the simplicity of the arrangement, with the platform of acoustic guitar, drums and bass embellished by Garth Hudson's engaging piano flourishes. The interest is heightened by the switching of lead vocals between the three primary singers.
"We Can Talk" is a delight, from the sumptuous organ-driven introduction, to the amusing lyrics, to the satisfying drum sound (a feature of the whole album, incidentally). Those inimitable vocal harmonies are more rugged and likeable here than ever, and the soulful "middle-eight" section still surprises and pleases after repeated listens.
"Long Black Veil" and "This Wheel's On Fire" are probably the two weakest cuts on the record. The former, although lyrically interesting, comes out as ponderous and uninspired. "This Wheel's On Fire" has never really grabbed me as a song, and the Band's interpretation is not a patch on their own versions of "Tears Of Rage" and "I Shall Be Released".
There is a case for saying that "Big Pink" is more outright soulful and permeated with rhythm and blues than the follow-up, and "Chest Fever" is a prime example of this, although there is a strong dose of Johann Sebastian Bach (the organ sounds) as well as Sam and Dave! The snare drum is once again a feature, and this recording contains some of Robbie Robertson's most effective and dextrous guitar work.
The next track, "Lonesome Suzie" can almost pass the listener by unless close attention is paid. Richard Manuel excels here, on his own composition, and his fragile and expressive vocal is complemented by delicate keyboard and guitar parts. The organ is a reminder of the pivotal role played by Garth Hudson, and his versatility, in the potency and vitality of The Band's music.
Although Music From Big Pink did not attain massive commercial success, it still endures as one of rock music's most important records. It has a pull subtly different from the sophomore release which followed. It sounds as fresh and as "musical" now as it must have done way back in the late 1960s.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
The Band
It is rare for a group to make definitive musical statements with its first two albums, let alone produce two works which have such a profound effect on the musical landscape. However, this was achieved by The Band, the Canadian-American combo which until then had been best known as Bob Dylan's some-time backing band.
Music From Big Pink and The Band, released in 1968 and 1969 respectively, were instrumental (if you'll pardon the pun) in rock music's shift in a more rootsy direction, and away from the extravagance of the psychedelic and heavy music which had begun to dominate. Much of the rock aristrocracy, including Eric Clapton and George Harrison, was inspired by The Band, not only because of their sound, but because of the sense of community which their music seemed to encapsulate.
I was initially resistant to The Band, probably because they were praised by rock critics whose taste and judgement I did not always trust. However, interest in other exponents of "roots" rock eventually led me to purchase those first two albums, and I became a fan for life.
One of the first things which is immediately noticeable when listening to Music from Big Pink is an exuberance and impishness, which suggests that the musicians were having great fun recording these songs!
In an era when individual virtuosity and showmanship were becoming ever more important, The Band were at pains to ensure where possible that efforts were subsumed into concise and organic song structures, while still allowing space for the individual contributions to breathe. This was possible because of the even distribution of talent within the group. The soulful vocals of Richard Manuel and Levon Helm, and the keyboard wizardry of Garth Hudson were central to the group's appeal, but were never permitted to dominate or marginalise other elements.
Another remarkable thing about The Band is how they combined and mixed various musical influences into their own unique style. Many of their songs contained elements of blues,R&B,country, and folk, but few of the tracks in their catalogue can be pigeon-holed as typifying any particular genre.
Of the two, I probably marginally prefer Music From Big Pink because of its greater spontaneity, but I know that many fans treat the two LPs as in effect one double-album. The "brown album" exudes more polish. Robbie Robertson, in particular, appears to have gone through a remarkably fertile period of songwriting productivity.
When examining two albums of such sustained and consistent quality, it is difficult, and even churlish, to pick out highlights. However, Manuel's vocal on "Tears of Rage" never fails to send a shiver down the spine, and the tuneful opening bars of "Across The Great Divide" exemplify everything that was great about The Band. The versions of the "Basement Tapes" songs on the first album are pretty much definitive.
And the lyrical content of these songs also differed from those of the majority of The Band's contemporaries, delving as they did into historical themes, and featuring some offbeat humour. It was as if they were instinctively rebelling against some of the more outlandish pretensions then prevalent on the rock scene.
The rustic and rootsy flavour of the material was also enhanced by the distinctive, and sometimes intentionally ragged, vocal interplay between Helm, Manuel and Rick Danko. When other artists were aiming for more and more pristine multi-tracked harmonies, The Band allowed the diverse talents of their singers to shine through. In addition, they were not scared of employing unusual instruments for a rock setting, and the members themselves sometimes switched between instruments. The Band were a "band" in the truest sense of the word....
Perhaps inevitably, The Band were not quite able to maintain the stunning standard of their first two albums on subsequent works. Although their craftsmanship and talent remained intact, reproducing the magic of 1968/69 proved elusive.
The Band's place in rock history was assured by their work at the close of the 1960s. This was not just because of the quality and charm of the music, but because they caused a generation of musicians to take stock, and consider whether things could be done differently.
Music From Big Pink and The Band have stood the test of time, and sound as fresh and as ebullient as they must have done over four decades ago.
Listen to the keyboard-drenched introduction to "We Can Talk", and you'll see what I mean....
Music From Big Pink and The Band, released in 1968 and 1969 respectively, were instrumental (if you'll pardon the pun) in rock music's shift in a more rootsy direction, and away from the extravagance of the psychedelic and heavy music which had begun to dominate. Much of the rock aristrocracy, including Eric Clapton and George Harrison, was inspired by The Band, not only because of their sound, but because of the sense of community which their music seemed to encapsulate.
I was initially resistant to The Band, probably because they were praised by rock critics whose taste and judgement I did not always trust. However, interest in other exponents of "roots" rock eventually led me to purchase those first two albums, and I became a fan for life.
One of the first things which is immediately noticeable when listening to Music from Big Pink is an exuberance and impishness, which suggests that the musicians were having great fun recording these songs!
In an era when individual virtuosity and showmanship were becoming ever more important, The Band were at pains to ensure where possible that efforts were subsumed into concise and organic song structures, while still allowing space for the individual contributions to breathe. This was possible because of the even distribution of talent within the group. The soulful vocals of Richard Manuel and Levon Helm, and the keyboard wizardry of Garth Hudson were central to the group's appeal, but were never permitted to dominate or marginalise other elements.
Another remarkable thing about The Band is how they combined and mixed various musical influences into their own unique style. Many of their songs contained elements of blues,R&B,country, and folk, but few of the tracks in their catalogue can be pigeon-holed as typifying any particular genre.
Of the two, I probably marginally prefer Music From Big Pink because of its greater spontaneity, but I know that many fans treat the two LPs as in effect one double-album. The "brown album" exudes more polish. Robbie Robertson, in particular, appears to have gone through a remarkably fertile period of songwriting productivity.
When examining two albums of such sustained and consistent quality, it is difficult, and even churlish, to pick out highlights. However, Manuel's vocal on "Tears of Rage" never fails to send a shiver down the spine, and the tuneful opening bars of "Across The Great Divide" exemplify everything that was great about The Band. The versions of the "Basement Tapes" songs on the first album are pretty much definitive.
And the lyrical content of these songs also differed from those of the majority of The Band's contemporaries, delving as they did into historical themes, and featuring some offbeat humour. It was as if they were instinctively rebelling against some of the more outlandish pretensions then prevalent on the rock scene.
The rustic and rootsy flavour of the material was also enhanced by the distinctive, and sometimes intentionally ragged, vocal interplay between Helm, Manuel and Rick Danko. When other artists were aiming for more and more pristine multi-tracked harmonies, The Band allowed the diverse talents of their singers to shine through. In addition, they were not scared of employing unusual instruments for a rock setting, and the members themselves sometimes switched between instruments. The Band were a "band" in the truest sense of the word....
Perhaps inevitably, The Band were not quite able to maintain the stunning standard of their first two albums on subsequent works. Although their craftsmanship and talent remained intact, reproducing the magic of 1968/69 proved elusive.
The Band's place in rock history was assured by their work at the close of the 1960s. This was not just because of the quality and charm of the music, but because they caused a generation of musicians to take stock, and consider whether things could be done differently.
Music From Big Pink and The Band have stood the test of time, and sound as fresh and as ebullient as they must have done over four decades ago.
Listen to the keyboard-drenched introduction to "We Can Talk", and you'll see what I mean....
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