By John Ruberry
Last week one of music’s giants, Robbie Robertson, the lead guitarist and the principle songwriter for The Band, died at the age of 80.
In this post I’ll rank their studio albums.
Much like Fleetwood Mac, The Band, when you reach back to their beginnings in Toronto, is one of the few musical acts that, like a nation, have a historical narrative.
Arkansas rockabilly singer Ronnie Hawkins found success with his backup band, the Hawks, in Canada in the lat 1950s. But one by one, each Hawk, except for drummer Levon Helm, got homesick and returned to America. The first Canadian to join the Hawks was Robertson, who was quickly supplemented by bassist Rick Danko, pianist Richard Manuel, and organist Garth Hudson, but all of the members of the band were multi-instrumentalists, particularly Hudson. The Band had three vocalists, Helm, Danko, and Manuel. Often, particularly on their first two albums, they would interchange leads—and beautifully harmonize.
The Hawks split from Hawkins in 1963, and under different names, performed as a first-rate bar band until becoming Bob Dylan’s concert backing band. Helm left during that tour.
After Dylan was injured in a motorcycle accident in 1966, with the Hawks, he recorded new material that was released in 1975 as The Basement Tapes. Helm rejoined in 1967, after the newly-dubbed The Band was signed Capitol Records.
After many ups and a few downs, The Band split after their final concert–with many guest performers–which was lovingly documented in the Martin Scorsese-directed movie, The Last Waltz. The soundtrack album is also an essential work of art.
In the 1980s, without Robertson, The Band reformed, went on tour, with the intention of returning to the recording studio. But Manuel committed suicide in 1986. The remaining Band members eventually recorded three albums in the 1990s, consisting mostly of covers, but the rump Band broke up for good after Danko’s death in 1999. Helm, who had been feuding with Robertson for years over songwriting credits and money in general, died in 2012. Hawkins passed away last year.
Hudson is the only surviving member of The Band.
And now let’s start the rundown of The Band’s albums. Yes, the ones with the original lineup.
Islands (1977): There are some great outtakes albums, The Who’s Odds and Sods and Elvis Costello’s Taking Liberties come to mind. Islands is like most of the others, where listeners can say to themselves, “I can see why these songs were left off of previous albums.” Because The Last Waltz soundtrack was promised to another label, Islands was compiled to satisfy The Band’s contractual obligation to Capitol Records. It contains a curiosity, “Knockin’ Lost John,” the only Band song where Roberston sings lead. Next…
Cahoots (1971): Drugs had taken their toll on The Band by this time, and Robertson’s songs weren’t very good here. Cahoots starts off well enough, with “Life Is a Carnival,” but immediately sinks into them mud. Not even one of my favorites, Van Morrison, who co-wrote with Robertson “4% Pantomime,” which is about two drunk musicians in a bar complaining about life on the road, could save Cahoots. Listening to this album is about as enjoyable as sitting next to two drunk musicians in a bar as they…well, you get it. On the upside, the album artwork is gorgeous, and one of Morrison’s nicknames, the Belfast Cowboy, comes from “4% Pantomime.”
Moondog Matinee (1973): Two paragraphs ago Costello, who counts The Band as one of his major influences, received a compliment, now I’m evening the score. In 1995, Costello recorded an album of mostly obscure R&B covers, Kojak Variety. It’s a terrible record. Moondog Matinee, which also contains many lesser-known R&B tunes, is better than that. Predictably, it’s the better-known songs that The Band chose, including “I’m Ready,” “Mystery Train,” and “Promised Land,” which click.
Yes, I do love The Band. Really, I do.
Now comes the good stuff.
Stage Fright (1970): While Cahoots understandably opens with its best song, on Stage Fright, the collection’s worst two songs, “Strawberry Wine” and “Sleeping” are the opening tracks. The first song was co-written by Helm with Robertson, and Manuel co-wrote the second one with Robbie. With the exception of one other tune, all of the rest of the songs were written solely by Robertson, including these Band standards, the title track, as well as “The Shape I’m In,” and “The W.S. Walcott Medicine Show.” More rock and R&B oriented than The Band’s first two albums, Stage Fright is also remembered for Todd Rundgren’s role as engineer.
Northern Lights-Southern Cross (1975): The Band, with their first studio album in four years, came back in a big way here. “Acadian Driftwood,” a musical cousin of sorts of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” recounts the ethnic cleansing of French speakers in the 1750s from Nova Scotia by the British. At the time, Robertson was married to a French-Canadian, tensions between Anglophone and Francophone Canada were at a peak then. Like the early days of The Band, Helm, Manuel, and Danko harmonize and swap lead verses. “Ophelia,” “Jupiter Hollow,” and “It Makes No Difference” are the other great tracks on this collection. Every song on Northern Lights-Southern Cross is a Robertson composition.
Music from Big Pink (1968): One of the best debut albums ever, and not just because of the great songs, such as “Chest Fever,” “The Weight,” and the Dylan-penned “I Shall Be Released.” No one knew it at the time, but Music from Big Pink was the first album of the Americana genre, or if you prefer, roots music. The album artwork featured a Dylan painting. “The Weight” is the ultimate Band song, Helm and Danko share lead vocals and Manuel adds perfect harmonies. Dylan cowrote, with Manuel and Danko respectively, “Tears of Rage” and “This Wheel’s on Fire.”
The Band (1969): Most bands with a great debut album effort suffer from a sophomore jinx. Not The Band, with their self-titled follow-up, also known as the Brown Album. There are no Dylan songs this time, but Robertson filled that vacuum with works that are now Americana classics, such as aforementioned “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” as well as “Rag Mama Rag,” and “Up on Cripple Creek.” Sometimes it’s hard to ascertain why The Band was so great and so unique. “Jawbone,” a Robertson and Manuel collaboration, offers a clue. It was written in a 6/4 time signature, a rarity in popular music.
And so was Robbie Robertson, a rarity. Rest in peace.
John Ruberry regularly blogs at Marathon Pundit.


