Testimony - Robbie Robertson

Testimony is a memoir by Robbie Robertson, best known as guitarist and songwriter with The Band. It is not a full biography as such, as it only takes the story up to 1976 or thereabouts, but it is an entertaining and enlightening read.

The book chronicles Robertson's upbringing, and his musical apprenticeship, as he cut his teeth playing countless gigs in small venues, soaking up knowledge and expertise along the way. The tales of his time playing with Ronnie Hawkins are especially amusing and occasionally lurid! There is also some intriguing material regarding Robertson's family background and his ongoing links with relatives and his roots.

One of the things which strikes me most about Testimony is that it provides the reader with a ringside seat, so to speak, as the musical revolutions of the Sixties progressed, looking over the shoulder of someone who was a part of those upheavals and landmark events.  To me the journey feels real and organic, free of the cliches and platitudes which often characterize portrayals of that era. Above all, the love of music and self-expression permeates everything. The stories are told with genuine relish and enthusiasm.

The author is candid about the ebb and flow of his relationships with other musicians, particularly his band-mates. Also, I was fascinated by the chapters which cover his associations with Bob Dylan, such as for example the turbulent and momentous concert tours of 1965/66 and the recording sessions which gave rise to the so-called "Basement Tapes".

Robertson indulges in quite a bit of name-dropping, telling us how he used to hang out with the likes of Andy Warhol, Marlon Brando and Salvador Dali. This does, though, help to underscore the vibrancy of those times.

As an admirer of The Band's music, one of the most valuable functions of this work for me is the way that it offers some insight into how the group's acclaimed and important early albums took shape. We also gain an idea of what an impact those first two records in particular had on the music world, and on creative people generally.  Above all, that period just sounds like it was enormous fun!

The closing sections of the book are both interesting and poignant, as we learn how the rock n roll lifestyle began to sap the creativity and cohesion of The Band, culminating in their farewell concert (famously documented in Martin Scorsese's film The Last Waltz).

I found this book to be a riveting read.  It is well worth checking out for fans of rock music.

Cahoots - The Band - album review

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.

Easy Rider - movie review

I recently watched "Easy Rider", the classic 1969 road movie, starring Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson.

In the past, I had tended to see this film as one of those whose reputation and status was out of proportion to its genuine artistic merit. However, it now strikes me that this in itself has become a stereotyped and spurious attitude.  Consequently, some dispassionate and detached scrutiny was in order...

Essentially, the picture follows the Fonda and Hopper characters as they travel through the American Southwest and South by motorbike. Along the way they encounter various people and different elements of society. In part it is an examination of the Sixties counter-culture, contemporary social tensions, and of popular attitudes towards those things.

One of the things which one first notices is the sumptuous nature of the visuals, a feature of "Easy Rider" which is regularly overlooked. This is complemented by the sparsity and economy of the dialogue. Imagery and symbolism, and the necessity for the viewer to spot and decipher them, form a minor but significant part of the film, if not an overpowering one . An example occurs early on in the piece when Peter Fonda discards his watch on the edge of the desert. Is this some kind of "existential" gesture, or does it signify a more general renunciation of mainstream values?  You decide!  Or alternatively, just sit back, relax and enjoy the movie....

Some modern observers might laugh or snipe at the "arty" editing which occasionally makes an appearance but, making allowances for the fact that this was the late 1960s, it is not too intrusive or egregious. The same could be said for the "freak-out" sequences near to the conclusion of the movie. The occasional diversion into a "homemade", documentary style of film-making offers a counterpoint to the grandeur of the visuals.

Some of the interaction of the two main characters with people they meet on their odyssey is fascinating, although it is easy to read too much into these sections, from a "philosophical" viewpoint. In one of the earlier scenes they stop and speak to some farmers/ranchers, who would perhaps be regarded as "conservative" in their outlook, but if anything the two bikers appear more comfortable in their company than they do when meeting other members of the so-called "counter culture". Non-conformists, outcasts and individualists occur in many forms, and they often find common ground which does not accord with societal categorization, expectations or pigeon-holing.  This is all in keeping with a sense that "Easy Rider" does not necessarily portray its times precisely in the way in which we are conditioned to assume that it does.

The above theme is developed further when Fonda and Hopper visit a "hippie commune". Rightly or wrongly, I got the impression that Wyatt/Captain America (the Fonda character) was too ready and willing to embrace some "romantic" or idealistic notion of communal living, Outwardly Billy (Hopper) seemed the more "alternative" figure, but was much more cynical and wary of the hippies,and the practicality of their way of life, than his travelling companion. Taken like this, it can be seen that the film offers quite a nuanced view of the subject.  The counter-culture was a multi-faceted phenomenon, and its various constituent elements were not always compatible with each other.

Needless to say, the appearance of Jack Nicholson is a highlight of "Easy Rider", although his character does not occupy as much of the running time as people sometimes imagine. Hanson is an intriguing character. It is tempting to see him in part as a semi-caricature of the "trendy" lawyers who, we are told, were commonplace during those times, but even this would be an over-simplification.

Whilst the scene in the cafeteria is disturbing, it also offers some insight;the local girls attracted by the strangers, the males contemptuous and vitriolic. The "discussions" by the campfire are also open to several different interpretation, furthering the ambiguous nature of the general "narrative". Was Hanson furnishing his new friends with a broadened perspective, and were they taking him seriously?

Some might venture the opinion that the movie ends on an excessively downbeat and sobering note, but when one considers that this picture was made in 1969, it was hardly likely to finish with everyone walking happily off into the sunset. Having said that, seeing the violent ending simply as a metaphor for "the end of the 60s dream" is far too trite an option to adopt.

Of course, the wonderful music soundtrack is one of the most compelling and memorable aspects of "Easy Rider", with songs by the likes of The Byrds, Jimi Hendrix, The Band and Steppenwolf featuring, usually in the "road" sequences which link together the stops along the route. A note too about the motorcycles, which are fabulous, especially the one ridden by Peter Fonda....

I think that "Easy Rider" succeeds and endures largely because it is a coherent and plausible document. It does not ostentatiously seek to be clever or portentous, and it doesn't try too hard, unlike other cinematic works of its type and era. It has aged surprisingly well, to these eyes and ears at least.

Stage Fright - The Band - album review

The Band's third album, Stage Fright, released in 1970, had a lot to live up to, following as it did in the wake of the group's brilliant first two records, Music From Big Pink and The Band.

Regardless of whether Stage Fright can be said to be "better" or "worse" than the two works which preceded it, it was without doubt different. Several theories have been put forward to explain this. The rock n roll lifestyle may have begun to affect the musicians, together with the rigours of life on the road. It may be that the initial magic and enthusiasm of the group striking out on its own had begun to diminish.

This record is markedly darker in tone, and The Band may have been reflecting some of the uncertainty and perceived bleakness of the new decade. The shift in atmosphere and sound may have been a conscious attempt to explore new territory, both sonically and lyrically. Trying to replicate the feel-good factor of the first two records, even assuming that they had the energy, would have represented treading water.  There wasn't so much a decrease in intensity here;it was just a different kind of intensity. It wasn't a comedown or a hangover, but more a change in direction and emphasis.

One of the major differences immediately discernible on this album is the comparative absence of the idiosyncratic and endearingly chaotic vocal harmonies which characterized the band's work of the late 1960s. This is one of the reasons why the sound on Stage Fright feels thin and lacking in depth and warmth. The instrumental backdrop is also quite sober, in keeping with the lyrical content. The keyboard layers of past times are thin on the ground.

There are a few genuine highlights, and not all of this record has a soulless reticence. Track number two, "Sleeping" contains many of the Band's traditional hallmarks, and is marked by a fine Richard Manuel vocal. "The Shape I'm In" has some real character and drive to it - the vocals, again from Manuel, but also this time the harmonies have real presence. This is one of the few tracks on the album where Garth Hudson's keyboards are permitted full freedom, and his contribution helps propel things admirably.

The second half of the record is much stronger than the first. "The W.S. Walcott Medicine Show" reminds us of the mystique which surrounded the group, and has the welcome bonus of a horn part. "Daniel And The Sacred Harp" has similar attributes. There is some feeling in the vocals by Manuel and Levon Helm, and the words are nicely enigmatic. There is even a hint of the Cajun, in the employment of accordion and fiddle.  All in all, plenty is going on to hold the interest.

The title track is one of the key numbers. It has quite an affecting melody, and Rick Danko delivers one of his most effective lead vocals. This is one song where a lack of harmonies is an advantage. The subject matter suggests one voice only.

"The Rumor" is a downbeat, even sinister, track with which to finish proceedings, but not inappropriate. It is very much a "Seventies" song, in its ambiguity.

So there is some fine material here, and a distinctive vibe which makes Stage Fright a fascinating listen, both on its own merits and as a period-piece. It is less accessible and lovable than what went before, unsettling even in its tone, but it also encourages the listener to think....

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.

Books About Music

In recent times I have got out of the habit of reading books about music, concentrating instead on history and fiction. However, the arrival of the New Year may persuade me to dust off some of the music-related titles on my shelves. Here are a few of my favourites.

One of the best reference works I have encountered is the fairly monumental AllMusic Guide To Rock, which summarizes the works of a huge diversity of rock, pop and soul artists, giving album ratings as well as brief reviews. Each act is also accorded a brief biography, and there is also an effort to summarize each genre and sub-genre. The sort of book in which to become happily immersed, both to rekindle old tastes and to develop new ones.

As far as scholarly works are concerned, Ian MacDonald's "Revolution In The Head" has a deservedly high reputation. Basically an analysis, song-by-song, of the music of The Beatles, cross-referenced with the social upheavals of the Sixties, it is a riveting read, and it fully merits the acclaim which it has been afforded.

Another Beatles-related book of some import is "The Complete Beatles Chronicle", written by Mark Lewisohn.  Meticulously researched, it basically lists, in chronological order and in remarkable detail, what the Fab Four were doing on each day during their career, whether it was a concert, a recording session, a radio show , a television appearance or something else. Lavishly illustrated, this is another engrossing read, and a reminder of just how frenetic the Beatles' schedule was, especially in the period 1962-1964.

Also well worth seeking out is "Waiting For The Sun", a chronicle of the Los Angeles music scene by Barney Hoskyns. It does not just concentrate on the "obvious" artists, but explores the development of various musical sub-cultures, the careers of influential people, and also the changing character of the music industry itself.

As far as biographies are concerned, Johnny Rogan's books out Neil Young and The Byrds are hugely comprehensive and enjoyable.  Recommended too are Philip Norman's book about The Rolling Stones, and Barney Hoskyns' work dealing with the story of The Band.

Dave Marsh's "The Heart Of Rock & Soul - The 1001 Greatest Singles Ever Made" is a strident and thought-provoking work, not for the faint-hearted, but impossible to put down once begun. It probably helped to jolt me out of some of my musical complacency and inertia, even if I didn't agree with all of the author's opinions.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to do some reading....

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.

The Last Waltz

Whenever the subject of "greatest concert movie" or "best rock movie" comes up for discussion, it has become almost obligatory for Martin Scorsese's "The Last Waltz", a document of The Band's 1976 "farewell" performance, to be placed at the top, or the near the top, of the list.

The film is made up of The Band's performances of their own songs, and a series of guest appearances onstage by many of the musical luminaries of the time.  All this is interspersed with interviews, conducted by Scorsese himself, with the members of the Band, in which they provide recollections of their years on the road.

Although I feel that some of the praise lavished on "The Last Waltz" has been a touch excessive, it is still an affecting and rather poignant picture, being seen by many as signifying, or symbolizing, the close of the "classic rock" era.

The first song in the movie, "Don't Do It", was actually done as an encore, but it was an astute choice as the film's opener, as it helps to illustrate what The Band was all about, and where they came from. It is probably fair to say that The Band had passed their peak as a live act at that point, but they definitely rose to the occasion here.

As with The Band, some of the guest artists had also seen better days creatively, but Scorsese's affinity for music, and his abilities as a film-maker, enable him to capture much of the essence of the 1970s rock scene. Many of those artists had some connection with The Band, having influenced them, collaborated with them, or just been friends. They encompassed every genre and sub-genre which made up The Band's appetising musical stew - rock n roll, blues, country, gospel, soul, folk, even Tin Pan Alley.

The interview segments are highly entertaining, with many colourful anecdotes from the group's varied career. The "between song" banter is often loosely connected with the guest artist whose performance immediately follows. This helps to ensure that "The Last Waltz" is not just a routine run through a series of songs. It is also educational, informative and evocative of a lost time.

It is interesting to note that many of the most memorable performances in "The Last Waltz" come from the supposedly less "exalted" guest stars. Ronnie Hawkins and Dr John both exude charisma, but in an endearingly old-fashioned, unpretentious manner, in contrast to some of the precious mainstream rock stars.

The let-down for me is the Neil Young segment. I have always felt that "Helpless" is quite a mediocre, listless and irritating song, and it seems a poor choice in this particular context. especially when he had plenty of great, more exciting and dynamic songs to choose from.

On the other hand, Van Morrison is quite mesmeric, resplendent in purple, giving an exuberant and animated performance of the wonderful "Caravan".  There was a musical empathy between The Band and Van, and this may have been the secret to the magic here.

It is noticeable how much The Band enjoyed and relished playing other people's songs, and performing alongside musicians who they respected or revered, and these sentiments appear to have been heartily reciprocated. The blues-orientated acts (Muddy Waters, Paul Butterfield, Eric Clapton) also worked very well in this environment, again perhaps hinting at a special rapport with The Band and their ethos, which stressed feel and soul over virtuosity. 

When reviewing the Band's "solo" performances here, the powerful and heartfelt rendering of "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" is the highlight - a song which seemed more effective onstage than on record.  It is also interesting to note the pre-eminence of Levon Helm in the vocal department throughout, arguably reflecting the power-shift within the group as the 1970s progressed.

The beautiful lighting and camerawork assist in engendering a particular atmosphere in this movie, to the extent that the setting sometimes feels less "rock and roll" than retro Hollywood. A couple of numbers (featuring the Staple Singers and Emmylou Harris) were recorded separately in a "studio" setting.

With repeated viewing and analysis, the musical performances in "The Last Waltz" become slightly less dazzling, but as a snapshot of an era in music, and of the fondness with which a magical group was regarded by its peers, this is great viewing.

Levon Helm

I was saddened this morning to learn of the death of Levon Helm, drummer and vocalist with The Band, the acclaimed and influential American/Canadian rock group of the 1960s and 70s. 

Levon's distinctive voice and drumming style played a crucial role in the special appeal of The Band. He provided much of the essential grit and soul, which together with other ingredients, made their music so captivating and unique. As the lone American in a group consisting mostly of Canadians, this input was regarded as very important.

Not only did Levon supply some memorable lead vocals to the Band, but he also played an integral part, with Richard Manuel and Rick Danko, in the gloriously ragged and endearing harmonies which suffused their early albums.

His drumming has I think been somewhat overlooked in comparison, and I think that he was one of those instrumentalists whose personality and enjoyment is transmitted and conveyed directly through his playing.  This was also true of his singing.

Levon Helm will be greatly missed.

The White Album - The Beatles - album review

Between the end of 1967 and the early months of 1968, the Beatles underwent some changes, and it can be argued that this period represented a watershed in their career.

They began 1968 by recording the single "Lady Madonna", and then decamped to a spiritual retreat in India.  Meanwhile, plans were being laid for the the formation of the Apple company.

Both during the sojourn in India, and in the immediate aftermath, the band members composed lots of new songs, and many of these found their way onto the eponymous double album more commonly referred to as The White Album.

The recording sessions for this work revealed the first hairline cracks in the Beatles facade, cracks which gradually developed into fissures. However, for me The Beatles is one of the most fascinating, if enigmatic, areas of the group's catalogue.

Many rock historians have interpreted the content and atmosphere of The White Album as a retreat from the psychedelic excesses of the previous two years, a trend also reflected by the Rolling Stones' Beggars Banquet, and the output of the likes of Bob Dylan, The Byrds and The Band around the same time. Many of the songs have an acoustic, rustic feel to them, and this is also a product of the circumstances under which they were written in India.

In addition to the stripped down nature of some of the numbers, there are also signs of a return to the band's rock n roll roots on "Back in the USSR", "Birthday" and "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey".  Notwithstanding this general return to a simpler and rootsier sound, the experimental was not totally abandoned, as evidenced by some of the contributions of John Lennon, notably "Revolution 9".

I see The White Album as one of the crucial stepping stones in the transition from "pop" to "serious" rock music. That said, the lyrical content of the tracks on this album varies from the esoteric ("Happiness Is A Warm Gun") to the downright banal ("Rocky Raccoon").  The eclecticism is a large part of the LP's charm, and I think that those who said that a condensed single album would have been a better option are missing the point.  The vignettes and fragments are the glue which hold things together.

Underlying many of the songs is a certain darkness,menace, ennui even; symptomatic perhaps of the tensions within the Beatles, and also of the social and political climate which was prevalent in 1968. Largely absent is the ebullience and levity of Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour. Rarely has an album been as apposite and illustrative of its times as The White Album.  Its tenor seemed to be in tune with the then nascent counter-culture.

The internal group dynamics are also worth discussing.  After Paul McCartney's pre-eminence through most of the 1967 recordings, John Lennon's re-asserts himself as a songwriter on this double album, and his contributions are arguably the most substantial.  The continuing emergence of George Harrison's writing and performing prowess is a also a central feature.

Whilst The Beatles is an "album" in the truest sense of the word, this does not mean that there are not highlights.  "Dear Prudence", with its pastoral and joyous air, is one of the hidden gems in the Beatles' oeuvre, and features Paul McCartney on drums, after Ringo Starr temporarily left the group.

"Martha My Dear", although lyrically less than profound, is wonderfully tuneful, and appears to have influenced the Electric Light Orchestra melodically. 

"While My Guitar Gently Weeps" was one of Harrison's most substantial efforts to date, although the spine-tingling acoustic "demo" version is superior.

The White Album is not as instantly likeable as the Beatles' previous releases, or even what was to follow, but it is essential to an understanding of the group's artistic progression, and  the musical, social and cultural landscape of 1968.

The Allman Brothers Band

For the past fifteen years or so, I have been much taken by North American music of a more rootsy nature, the musical sub-genre which appeared in the late 60s, and continued to flourish for part of the following decade. Into this category I placed the late-period Byrds, The Band, Little Feat, Creedence Clearwater Revival and others.

One outfit which had escaped my closer attention was The Allman Brothers Band. Because they were habitually categorized as "Southern Rock", I lazily assumed that they were of the same ilk as Lynyrd Skynyrd and its imitators. Only much later was I resoundingly disabused of this notion...

When I refer to "The Allman Brothers Band" here I am speaking specifically about the period in which Duane Allman was part of the group, prior to his tragic death in 1971. To all intents and purposes, this encompasses the first three studio albums, plus the masterly Live At Fillmore East.

In the early 1970s, there was a surfeit of groups offering a "stew" of various forms of American roots music (Little Feat, Stephen Stills' Manassas to name but two), but the Allman Brothers Band were ahead of the game in several departments. By employing two drummers, they instilled a funkiness and rhythmic depth to their sound, which set them apart from their contemporaries for a while.

The sheer breadth and scope of their influences is also sometimes overlooked.  Although the blues and country appeared to predominate, especially on the first two studio albums, if one listens closely it is easy to detect traces of jazz, Latin and even gospel. Sometimes one or more style was superimposed on top of others within the same song, to startling effect. "Whipping Post" is arguably a case in point.

Another strength of the Allman Brothers Band was the tendency for lengthy and outlandish jams to co-exist happily with more accessible and catchy material.  There were perhaps signs on the studio cuts on Eat A Peach of a shift towards more concise musical statements, but many of the trademarks remained, notably the contrasting guitar sounds of Duane Allman and Dickey Betts.  This, along with the keyboards of Gregg Allman, gave the group's music a texture lacking in that of most of their peers.

Although the original "classic" line-up was in place for a comparatively brief period, its legacy remains formidable.  The track "Stand Back", from Eat A Peach, encapsulates in three-and-a-quarter minutes all that was instantly infectious and compelling about the band, while the various live renditions of "Whipping Post" showcase their penchant for improvisation and extemporisation.


In their sphere, the Allman Brothers Band were unusual in offering a heady brew of gritty immediacy, technical virtuosity and often ethereal soundscapes. They are an essential reference point for anyone tracing the development of rock music in the early Seventies.

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....