Over the past four days we’ve been sharing our thoughts on just how much Levon Helm meant to us. Today we complete our tribute to The Band drummer with three more essays about his immense effect on our contributors as well as a look at what the future holds for Levon Helm Studios.
I met Levon Helm once. We were both at Trinity Church for a memorial service celebrating the life of Maggie Campbell, Larry Campbell’s mother. Maggie brought me to my first Midnight Ramble at Levon’s home in Woodstock, New York and because of her I was welcomed into the fold as a courier of royalty. (Maggie was truly beloved at Plochmann Lane. Her story, a great one I assure you, is for another time). After the service, Levon and I happened to be standing next to each other and we chatted about his grandson who, unsurprisingly, liked to play the drums. We also talked about Maggie and how everyone at the Rambles would dote upon her when she would make her frequent visits. I didn’t need to tell Levon how much Maggie adored him but I did anyway. The two of us shared our loss for a woman whose friendship we each treasured immensely.
[All Photos by Jeremy Gordon]
Love was the ingredient that made the Midnight Rambles in Levon’s home special. You could see it in the eyes of the band as Levon would take his place behind the drums, you could see it in Levon’s face when he raised the arm of every band member at the end of the night, you could feel it within the inviting nature of the dozen or so volunteers that would welcome you onto Levon’s property and into Levon’s home, you could sense it within the people who would come to hear the music bearing armloads of salads, pastries and deserts and you could hear it every time someone would just say the name Levon.
F. Scott Fitzgerald once said that there are no second acts in American lives. Levon Helm was one of the many people that proved Fitzgerald wrong. On the night of the first Midnight Ramble, no one involved, whether on stage or in the audience, could have foreseen that they were part of something new, different and special. Removing the cynicism and naked capitalism from the concert experience, Levon and his Midnight Ramblers served as a veritable fountain of youth for music lovers. Amongst his sizable legacy, it may very well be lost that Levon Helm restored love and authenticity to the art of live music.
It warms my soul to know that wherever Levon’s spirit has flown, Maggie Campbell is there to greet him with open arms, ready to introduce him to all the friends she’s made while awaiting his presence.
PAGE TWO = Jeffrey Greenblatt PAGE THREE = Scott Bernstein PAGE FOUR = The Future
It would be doing a great disservice to the legacy of Levon Helm without first and foremost talking about The Band. They rose to fame as the antithesis of rock decadence, ushering in the “back to land” movement, first with Music From The Big Pink and then with their masterpiece of a self-titled album, known to fans as The Brown Album. Musicians fawned over them, with Eric Clapton, arguably the biggest star of the day making a pilgrimage to Woodstock with his intention to ask to join them. Others simply abandoned the electric guitar and psychedelic rock for an acoustic guitar one, and went on a search for the same dusty roads, juke joints and whiskey soaked days that The Band sang about.
My personal musical journey has been a constant chase to find The Band’s proper torchbearers. Falling in love with bands like Wilco, The Felice Brothers, The Low Anthem and The Moondoogies, who have all come close to channeling the spirit of The Band’s magical ramshackle blend of Americana, that was born out of the sounds of folk, gospel, rhythm and blues, bluegrass and country music. While Robbie Robertson became their de facto face after their break up, Levon was always their heart and soul. How many other music legends would have invited you into their home on a weekly basis and performed for you? If you never got a chance to take in a Ramble you truly missed out on one of the most unique concert experiences around. There was nothing quite like it, and probably will never truly be duplicated – which is a good thing.
A few years back I got the opportunity to cover a Ramble for HT, heading up to the sleepy town of Woodstock on a rainy Halloween night. You can read about my experience here, which will always invoke a special feeling when I think back to it. Like any dedicated fan that trip also included a journey to the Mecca of Band lore The Big Pink, where they hunkered down and created new folk songs that sounded as if they decades or more old.
I first saw Levon play sometime in 2001, at the now defunct TriBeCa Blues Club. The exact lineup of that night escapes me, but what I do remember was a shirtless Helm tucked away in the back of the stage playing drums, grinning ear to ear and me wondering what this guy who played to 500,00o+ people at both Woodstock and Watkins Glen was doing at a tiny rock club in Lower Manhattan. Little did I know at the time about his vocal troubles and battle with cancer.
The other indelible memory was his triumphant comeback show at the Beacon Theater on St. Patrick’s Day in 2007. The star-studded affair was my own personal version of The Last Waltz replete with a sit in from Dr. John, who performed Such A Night, and Garth Hudson, who bandied around the stage during the encore like madman with an accordion strapped to his chest. While there will be no more nights with Levon behind the kit, his musical legacy will live on in fond memories of the times spent seeing, listening and admiring the such a special soul.
PAGE THREE = Scott Bernstein PAGE FOUR = The Future
It’s hard to think back, but there was a time when The Band, and the members of The Band, didn’t get the respect they deserved for being one of the five most important acts in the history of rock. In 1986, the reformed group, without Robbie Robertson, was touring small bars in Florida. At least The Band was selling out those bars as a decade later Rick Danko was having a hard time filling such places closer to his Woodstock home. Over the last decade Levon Helm reignited The Band’s flame and kept it burning through his Midnight Ramble and Ramble On The Road performances. Helm was The Band’s ambassador after Robbie Robertson wanted no part of playing his songs from that era and the deaths of Richard Manuel and Rick Danko.
For those of us who weren’t old enough to have caught The Band during their heyday, the last ten years of Levon’s life were a gift that we cherished and didn’t take for granted. Not only did we get a chance to see Levon sing songs such as Ophelia, The Weight and Rag Mama Rag with the likes of Dawes, Ray LaMontagne, Bob Weir, My Morning Jacket, the Allman Brothers Band and The Felice Brothers, but we were also treated to a pair of fantastic studio albums in Electric Dirt and Dirt Farmer. Anyone who wanted the opportunity to show love for Levon, and by proxy The Band, were able to do so, which is a miracle considering how grim the situation appeared for Helm when he was first diagnosed with throat cancer in 1998.
Among the many tributes to Helm that have taken place since the news of his passing came in on Thursday were many viewings of The Last Waltz, a movie he hated, and many performances of The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, a song he refused to play after The Last Waltz. For however Helm viewed a movie and song that became synonymous with him despite his objections, you can’t deny that Levon stole the show in The Last Waltz, particularly with the anger that comes through in his vocals in a version of The Night That Drove Old Dixie Down for which it’s fitting that it was the last version, as it can never be topped.
After losing his wealth, his health, two of his blood brothers and nearly his beloved home in Woodstock, the Arkansas native staged a comeback for the ages. If anyone deserved success in the final decade of his life, it was Levon Helm.
PAGE FOUR = The Future
Yesterday Helm’s manager, a wonderful woman named Barbara O’Brien who deserves a ton of credit for giving Levon what MTV’s Bill Flanagan described as the greatest encore in the history of rock, addressed the future of Levon Helm Studios…
“There is a gaping hole in my life and in my heart. Your words of kindness and compassion have been a source of of great comfort to me and to the rest of the team. As Levon always said, no man is an island. The successes we have achieved over the past 9 years weren’t the result of any one person’s efforts. The successes came from a combination of the foundation that was built by people before me and by the people who arrived on the scene with me. Added to the formula was a fan base unlike any other. You all have stood by us through thick and thin – through voice and no voice, through illness and through health. As Levon always said, we’re all partners. Let’s not allow that partnership to falter. Keep following my FB posts because I have a plan – and I’d like you all to be part of it. Again, thank you so much for your strength through this very, very painful time for us. We need you.”
We expect that over the next few months the future of Levon’s beloved home will become more clear. Helm surrounded himself with staff members that understood his vision, respected his legacy and made the miraculous last decade possible. Sure, a Midnight Ramble without Levon won’t be the same, but it can still be a soul-nourishing experience and chance for fans to pay their respects to Helm and The Band. Levon Helm Studios should stand as a tribute to Woodstock’s unofficial mayor as the greatest singing drummer in the history of music wouldn’t want it any other way.
Finally, one of the few good things to come out of the past week was seeing how much people still care about The Band. Considering how many shows the group played between 1969 and 1976, there are very few recordings, video and audio, that circulate of The Band in their prime. Why did everyone run to watch The Last Waltz for a hundredth time after Levon’s passing? Because not only is it one of the best, if not the best, concert film of all-time, it’s also the only official, full-show, visual document of The Band’s peak available.
Without Levon Helm to carry The Band’s flag moving forward, it’s time for a live archival series from that magical seven-year period. The source material is out there. Check out this version of Chest Fever from London’s Wembley Stadium in 1974 and tell us you wouldn’t want to see this whole show come out?
The Band even shot video of the famed Rock of Ages shows. More of this please…
Levon may be gone, but let’s make sure The Band lives forever.
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