Dr Curio presents...

My apologies if today’s Phonovault post seems especially downcast, but my usual exuberance would be inappropriate. A hero has passed. Levon Helm is gone from this world, and our planet is a poorer place for it.

To many, his name is familiar, if not a household name. Some know him only as ‘the drummer from the Band’, an epithet that carries legendary status in its own right, but comes nowhere near to doing Helm full justice. Those who are thinking ‘The Band? Weren’t they just Dylan’s backing group?’, I would give you a particularly withering tongue-lashing, but, in our collective moment of loss, all is forgiven. If that is your only experience of the Band, you will doubtless have your eyes and ears opened, and your lives transformed, by the joy of discovering them.

Such joy, though, shall be tempered with sadness. Though he had been suffering from the cancer that claimed his life for a while, his steely determination and indomitable spirit, even at the age of 72, led him to conceal his illness from the public as he forged onward into ever greater musical territories. His passing came as a shock to many, myself included. The vigour and vitality of his most recent recordings seems so at odds with the deteriorating state of his health, but it makes one thing clear: whilst there was still music to make, there was no way in Hell Levon Helm was going to give in. To reiterate- what a hero.

Though I wish it hadn’t come so soon, it is now time to celebrate the life, achievements and sheer magnificence of Levon Helm. One of the most distinctive voices in rock, and certainly the strongest-charactered vocalist in the Band, his modest, charming personality compelled him to deliver his superb tunes whilst seated behind a drumkit, despite being a highly-accomplished multi-instrumentalist and master songwriter. He never needed the limelight, but the music sure needed him.

A true pioneer, he and his comrades in the Band single-handedly birthed country-rock, but only Helm managed to keep pushing the envelope further. Of course, one can’t blame messrs Manuel or Danko, who both lost their lives tragically early, and whose stratospheric talent shall never be forgotten. Garth Hudson, mainly noted for his technical abilities as opposed to writing, remains sought-after as a session-man for his intuitive musicianship, and Robbie Robertson, once the Band’s guiding light, continues apace, even if he seems to have deserted his once-impregnable inspiration in favour of a less-challenging route through ill-advised collaborations and staid re-tramplings of his own musical backyard.

Levon Helm may have stuck to his country guns, but he did so thrillingly. His latter-day albums, ‘Dirt Farmer’ and ‘Electric Dirt’, represented a stunning creative revival, and were rightfully lauded by music fans and critics alike, both justly picking up Grammys, an almost unheard-of occurrence for consecutive albums by the same artist. Following these, his live album, the culmination of his legendary ‘Ramble’ sessions, entitled ‘Ramble at the Ryman’, won him the third Grammy in a row. Can you think of anyone else who could manage that? Me neither.

Throughout his unparalleled career, there have been several constants. His soulful, gravelly backwoods twang, his rangy, versatile drumming, his songwriting prowess, his understated textural embellishments on a range of other instruments, and, most importantly, his evident love of, and feel for, the music he plays.

With the Band, he co-wrote and sang the majority of their all-time classics, ensuring his musical immortality. A true Southern farm-boy, born Mark Lavon Helm to Arkansas cotton farmers, and raised on a diet of bluegrass, then early rock’n'roll, he realised the importance of rhythm early on. Despite trying his hand at other instruments, the gut-punch power of the drums suited him just fine, and he soon fell in with the likes of Conway Twitty and Ronnie Hawkins, the man who recruited the four young Canadians who, with Helm, would soon reject the orthodoxy, and their tutor, to forge their own path.

Before long, Bob Dylan, looking for a revolutionary electrified outlet for his beloved acoustic folk, discovered the band (then known as Levon and the Hawks), and realised their prescience. In spite of the loathing inspired by his ‘going electric’, they stuck by him, even though Levon had his doubts, and moved in together at ‘Big Pink’ in Woodstock. Curious locals referred to them simply as ‘the band’, and the name stuck.

Their debut album, ‘Music From Big Pink’, was an instant hit, and introduced the world to Helm’s powerful yet free-flowing drumming, and, by way of stone-cold-classic ‘The Weight’, his inimitable, earthy voice, already conveying experience way beyond his years.

As they developed, and began leaning in a more Southern direction, Helm’s vocals began to take more prominence. Though this was partially due to the waning health of tragic genius Richard Manuel, it was Helm’s singing that sculpted the classic Band sound, with the likes of ‘The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down’ going down in contemporary music lore.

During his time with the Band, Helm somehow found time to build a studio in his Woodstock barn, and there recorded the Grammy-winning album Muddy Waters In Woodstock’ with the legendary bluesman.

The Band bowed out spectacularly, with their legendary farewell concert ‘The Last Waltz’, becoming a multi-million-selling triple album, and spawning the celebrated ‘rockumentary’ by Martin Scorsese. Throughout, Helm’s performance shone, though he was later scathing about not only the film and album, but Robbie Robertson himself, who produced them.

Despite the Band’s demise, Helm remained just as creative, just as driven, and just as busy. A steady flow of solo albums ensued, allowing the world to fully appreciate just how pivotal his role in the Band had been, with his impeccable songwriting, delivery and production giving every track the feel of time-honoured classics.

That’s the main thing to remember about Levon Helm. He was a true classic. A one-off character, a timeless artist, defiant, ageless, a force of nature, music embodied. It seemed as if he’d always been there, and always would. It seemed unthinkable that he’d ever leave this world.

He achieved so much since his supposed ‘heyday’. As well as music, he maintained a parallel career as a successful big-screen character actor, something that chimed perfectly with the cast of fully-developed, authentic personalities that inhabit his songs.

In the early 80’s, the members of the Band (sans Robertson) drifted back together to continue where they left off. Sadly, Richard Manuel’s troubles finally overcame him, and, while on tour in 1986, he committed suicide. The rest of the Band were utterly distraught, and took a necessary hiatus to manage their grief.

In 1993, however, they released ‘Jericho’, and turned out two more excellent (if not so warmly received by purists) albums, before, yet again, disaster struck. This time it was Levon Helm’s turn to feel the cruel sting of the hand of fate. In 1998, his trademark husky voice had seemed to be getting hoarser and more weathered at an alarming rate. Consulting the doctors, the news was grim: throat cancer.

It would take more than a measly tumour to knock Levon Helm down, though. Still, times were tough. Unable to speak beyond a whisper, let alone sing, he kept playing, often with his daughter Amy providing not only vocals and guitar, but, more importantly, the strength to continue. This support would prove invaluable when, in 1999, Rick Danko passed away. From then on, the Band were no more, but Levon Helm soldiered on, as he always did.

Through perseverance, huge effort, and support from friends, family and fellow musicians, Helm regained his voice, and was able to throw himself with full vigour back into the music game. His ‘Midnight Ramble’ sessions at the Barn in Woodstock became the stuff of legend, attracting the likes of Garth Hudson, Elvis Costello, Emmylou Harris, Dr. John, Chris Robinson, Allen Toussaint, Donald Fagen, Pinetop Perkins, Hubert Sumlin, Carolyn Wonderland, Kris Kristofferson, Gillian Welch, David Rawlings, Justin Townes Earle, Bow Thayer, Luther “Guitar Junior” Johnson, Rickie Lee Jones, Kate Taylor, Ollabelle, The Holmes Brothers, Catherine Russell, Norah Jones, Elvis Perkins in Dearland and Phil Lesh, to name but a few.

Though relying on his guest singers initially, he gradually regained his voice, and, by 2007, was not only able to sing at the sessions, but had created the first masterpiece of his latter-day career, ‘Dirt Farmer’. It’s rhythmic brand of country-blues and folk-tinged Americana was at least the equal of Helm’s earlier works, with Band or without, and left the Judges with no choice but to award it the 2007 Grammy Award for Traditional Folk Album.

Even more amazingly, he followed it in 2009 with the self-released ‘Electric Dirt’, which was all the better for treading the same ground as its predecessor with a more sure-footed gait and Southern swagger. Naturally, it was a shoe-in for the inaugural winner of the Americana category Grammy award. Levon Helm was reborn, and nothing could stop him now.

In May 2011, Helm released ‘Ramble at the Ryman’, a live album of his 2008 performance at Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium. In February 2012, it gained him his third consecutive Grammy, again in the Americana category. To the world at large, it seemed Levon Helm was on a roll.

If only. On April 17, 2012, Helm’s wife Sandy and daughter Amy revealed Levon had end-stage cancer. They posted the following message on his website:

“Dear Friends,
Levon is in the final stages of his battle with cancer. Please send your prayers and love to him as he makes his way through this part of his journey.
Thank you fans and music lovers who have made his life so filled with joy and celebration… he has loved nothing more than to play, to fill the room up with music, lay down the back beat, and make the people dance! He did it every time he took the stage…
We appreciate all the love and support and concern.
From his daughter Amy, and wife Sandy”

Two days later, Levon Helm was gone. Until the last, he was the epitome of everything great about music. An instigator, a creator, an intuitionist, a master craftsman, a storyteller, a gentleman and a friend to everyone.

Levon Helm, true legend of music: 1940-2012. He shall be forever missed.

Yours reverently,

Dr A.F.W Curio

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Videos:

The Band – \'The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down\'

Levon Helm \"Poor Old Dirt Farmer\" Official Music Video

The Band- \'The Weight\'

Levon Helm- \'The Mountain\'