Interestingly enough, while Bob gets credit for introducing most of the world to Levon Helm, Robbie Robertson, Richard Manuel, Rick Danko, and Garth Hudson, he had the opposite effect on me. Didn’t love Bob, and didn’t care to hear his band or, in this case, ‘The Band.” But now, finally, like my mother to the internet, I have arrived to the party (late) and realized how stupid I was for turning my back to what is the most important American rock outfit in the history of music. (Well, North American)

The Band’s roots date back all the way to early rockabilly. Levon (the only US Citizen of the bunch) grew up with country and blues music in Arkansas, eventually making his way to the Toronto area (which apparently had a similar scene) where he would meet up with the rest of the group. For years, they toured, backing up Ronnie Hawkins playing Country and Rockabilly standards from Canada to New Jersey. Eventually they quit Ronnie and were hired by Dylan to tour as his back-up band when he went electric. This, of course, is the point at which they really became a known group, and eventually, one of the most critically acclaimed bands of their era.

The great thing about The Band, other than their vast catalogue of country flavored rock gems, is that they epitomize what has become, in essence, one of the most familiar modern stories of the last 60 years: The story of the Rock ‘n’ Roll band. Consequently, this makes their simple/generic moniker all the more appropriate. Just like in High School, when you had that one band that played all the parties, it just became fitting to refer to those five guys as “The Band.” It’s like calling Manhattan, “the city.” No one asks you which city, you just know.

So what makes them the quintessential band? Long history of struggling on the road playing dingy clubs and dive bars? Check. Healthy does of drugs, alcohol, and loose women? Check. Those are easy, but there might be things you don’t consider. The Band was probably the first group made up of all-stars at every position. Levon Helm, Rick Danko, and Richard Manuel were each talented enough no only to play in a great band, but to front a great band as well! They’re all the lead singer. Robbie Robertson was notably one of the premier guitarists at the time, and is credited with writing the bulk of their material. (more on that in a bit) And Garth Hudson (perhaps the original mad-keyboard-professor) is the one they consider the musical genius of the bunch. That is a band! It’s not Johnny Rockstar and the dipsh*ts. It’s 5 heavy hitters!

But wait, there’s more. Who headlined Woodstock? Hendrix? The Who? Santana? The Dead? WRONG! The Band headlined Woodstock! Sh*t, they were living there at the time. They didn’t come to the hippies; the hippies came to them. Were they on the cover of Rolling Stone? Actually I’m still googling that, but I’m sure they were. Either way they got that beat. Ever here of Time Magazine? Yeah, they were on the cover of that one. Scissors cut paper, rock smashes scissors, and Time pwns Rolling Stone.

Then there’s the drama. They wrote the g*d-damn book on it. Robbie Robertson basically invented screwing over your friends. He managed to go down as the main writer on every song. And, although I’m sure he was the biggest contributor in that area, am I to believe that none of the other 4 music gods wrote a lick? Are you telling me that a dude from Toronto wrote “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down?” Am I to believe Levon, the man who sings it, the guy from Arkansas, showed up to the studio, and Robbie was like, “Dude, I wrote this awesome song about the South for you to sing?” I call BS! Well, unless that song is a strange metaphor for recouping publishing royalties. Then maybe he wrote it.

In fact, Robertson managed to wrestle so much control from the rest of the band, that when he decided it was time to hang it up, he forced the group to play their final show in 1978 when most of them weren’t ready yet, especially not Helm. Insult to injury? Robertson organized a series of guest musicians to play with them at this show, inviting Ronnie Hawkins, Dylan, and others from their past. But he also invited Neil Diamond, because he was working on a record with him at the time, despite the fact that he had no prior connection to the group. Diamond performed a tune off of said album. What a dick!

There’s probably a lot more to mention, but I’m not done with Levon’s book yet. My point is that, I now understand why The Band is held in such high regard among fans, critics, and other musicians alike. They are the original great American band. They are the pioneers.

So I watched “The Last Waltz,” the Scorsese directed film, documenting the final show in San Francisco, and I fast-forwarded the Dylan segment. And I think that despite all the cheesy 70′s film goofiness, and the bizarre, seemingly scripted, interviews, which make Robertson come off like a jack-ass, that it’s perhaps the greatest rock show I’ve ever seen on film. And then I’m embarrassed. Because, where the hell have I been? Let’s blame Dylan. He gets way too much credit anyway. After all, he’s the one who threw the block that kept me in the dark this whole time, like a prisoner of ignorance. But as Bob wrote and Richard Manuel sang, “Any day now I shall be released.” Well, actually that day has come and I was “released,” but I really wanted to use a fitting lyric to close this post. Whatever…you get my point……

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