Vikings & Beekeepers

 

There’s a reason why I keep writing about the Band. Once discovering them, once delving, say, three songs deep into their catalogue, The Band simply stays with you. Their body of work is stunning and far out-reaches the confines of a Greatest Hits album (although newbies should, by all means, pick up a Greatest Hits as a primer). What’s especially impressive is that as vast as their music seems to be, the Band was only good for five proper albums of new material (I exclude their 1977 odds and sods label requirement, Islands, and subsequent reunion albums, although they are worthy of pursuing). From their breakthrough, 1968’s Music From Big Pink, to 1971’s oft-maligned, but deserving of no less praise, Cahoots, the Band released four unique and excellent albums.

Perhaps bested only by Creedance Clearwater Revival in terms of sheer quantity of output, the five members of the Band took a hiatus away from the studio to rejuvenate themselves. In the time between 1971 and 1975, the Band would release a stunning live album (Rock Of Ages), an enjoyable, but minor collection of covers (Moondog Matinee) and would reunite with their old buddy Bob Dylan for Planet Waves. They certainly appeared to be busy, but creatively they were taking a rest.

Also in that span of time, Robbie Robertson, the Band’s chief songwriter, decided to get the hell out of Woodstock, a place that had been synonymous with the Band since prior to Big Pink (the album, not the house). By 1971, Woodstock had lost its mystique and became more of a hotbed for hard drugs than good music. Robertson headed up north to Montreal and split his time between the two cities before embarking out to Malibu in 1973. It was like night and day, the difference between Woodstock and Malibu, and Robertson felt that the rest of the boys in the band would do well to head out to the coast with him. Before the end of 1973, the rest of the group, Levon Helm, Rick Danko, Richard Manuel and Garth Hudson, not to mention Bob Dylan, all decided to follow Robertson’s lead.

Upon the completion of Planet Waves and a minor tour, the guys felt they were ready to head back into the studio for a new album, something that even the Band’s most ardent fans didn’t think would ever happen again. Robertson had a new batch of tunes, Hudson had some new synth equipment and the boys were working together in way that seemed impossible on the Stage Fright and Cahoots sessions. The result was Northern Lights – Southern Cross, an album every bit as good as anything else the Band ever recorded and maybe one of the forgotten wonders of a very much in limbo mid-70s music scene.

Several things separate this album from the rest of the Band’s catalogue, not the least of which was Robertson’s guitar playing. A student of the school of “less-is-more” ax-slinging, Robertson had always been more of a spunky rhythm player, and less of a noodler. On NL-SC, however, Robertson lets the six-string sing. “Forbidden Fruit,” “Ophelia,” “It Makes No Difference” and “Rags & Bones” all contain some absolutely scorching solos, giving the songs a longer run time than the normal Band song, thus relegating the album to a mere eight songs, forcing them to drop future single, “Twilight,” from the final product.

While Robertson’s extended guitar work is one of the album’s treats, fans were most relieved to hear the Band’s three primary vocalists in Helm, Danko and Manuel once again uniting their voices in what have must have felt like the first time since the group’s world-conquering sophomore album. Individually, the three singers were unique and amazing, but when they join together for those slightly-out-of-the-pocket, eyes-shut and gut-wrenched choruses…well, it’s something special.

 

Northern Lights – Southern Cross is centered around three certified masterpieces in “Ophelia,” “Acadian Driftwood” and “It Makes No Difference.” These three songs encapsulate the three most notable types of Band songs – the bouncy, punchy pop track (“Ophelia”), the heartbreaking, power chorused ballad (“It Makes No Difference”) and the out and out storytelling masterpiece (“Acadian Driftwood”). Nothing on the rest of the album can quite hit these peaks, however, nothing else in the group’s catalogue, and most groups catalogues for that matter, can quite touch them either.

“Ophelia” (streaming below) follows the familiar terrain of previous uptempo numbers like “Up On Cripple Creek” and “Life Is A Carnival.” The song about a girl refrain was done on the former track while the Dixie-style horn lines were aced on the latter. Still, it’s a perfect marriage between the two songs and has claimed its rightful place alongside those two giants of rollicking folk rock songcraft. Those mighty horns blast add an exclamation point to every bar; the guitars are delightfully slinky; Hudson’s keyboards tastefully punctuate every hole in the verse and Helm’s trademark drumming hiccup keeps the song light on its feet. Helm takes the spirited lead on this, just like he does on “Cripple Creek,” so in a lot of ways it’s a sequel. But “Ophelia” is far more Godfather Part II than Mannequin II: On The Move.

  

“It Makes No Difference” (streaming below) is Rick Danko’s big moment in the spotlight. His creaky, emotive voice fits perfectly on this big, open-hearted ballad. Danko sounds in near tears on the verses and when Helm and Manuel join him on the chorus it’s like a big group hug, their voices wrapping around each other end over end. It’s a beautiful thing. Robertson, whose guitar tone must have been set to “perfection” on these sessions, lets loose with a guitar solo in the final third that miraculously equals the passion and pain of Danko’s crying–in–the–rain vocals. Everything works so well here that even a soprano sax solo (??) courtesy Garth Hudson is performed with tasteful restraint.

 

While I know a few people who claim “It Makes No Difference” as their favorite Band song (a pitch perfect cover by My Morning Jacket can’t hurt), “Acadian Driftwood” (streaming below) is the album’s centerpiece and quite possibly the group’s greatest masterpiece. If nothing else, “Acadian Driftwood” stands as the greatest symbol of the Band’s democratic ethos since the whole of their debut. Each of the Band’s three singers takes a solo before the lovely, understated group vocal chorus. Manuel and Helm trade off on the first, second and fourth verses, while Danko shares the third verse with Manuel and goes alone on the fifth and final verse (it’s a long song) in French (the final verse contains some harmonies). While the song is notable for its ample use of all three singers, it also happens to be Robertson’s finest bit of musical storytelling since “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down.” “Driftwood” is a quasi-fictional history lesson about the troubled history of Acadia. Well it may not be as gut–wrenching as “Dixie,” the song still hits home with its gentle, acoustic led lilt and some fully fleshed out instrumentation that includes accordion, fiddle and the piccolo. The song has a surprising sweetness that offsets its ambition. It’s the single longest in studio Band track, but nowhere does it feel bloated. Instead, like I stated in an earlier post, the singers’ voices mesh together in a way that almost prompts the listener to join in. This is gorgeous music.

 

 

While these three amazing songs stand head and shoulders above the rest of the album, it’s not like the other five songs are slouches by any means. Far from it, actually.“Forbidden Fruit,” the album’s lead track, contains some reliably terrific Levon Helm vocals and some particularly adventurous organ grinding by Garth Hudson. “Forbidden Fruit” is Robertson’s song about his band mates’ frequent dalliances with hardcore narcotics, and while the song bounces brightly, there’s a dark undertone in the message.

While “Hobo Jungle” lacks the intense dynamics of “It Makes No Difference,” Manuel’s touching vocal make this more-than-sturdy ballad comparable to his take of “Georgia On My Mind.” The shame is that “Hobo Jungle” could very likely be lost on this album, but it’s a stunner that benefits from an isolated listen.

But ballads schmallads. Am I right people? Who needs soul and sadness when you can get funkay with “Ring Your Bell.” Those glorious horns, that Barney Miller approved bassline, that plinky rhythmic lead guitar. Man, it’s like the White Commodores with Rick Danko especially playing the part of funky-ass era Lionel Richie. Garth’s new synth effects border on cheese by just a little bit, but this is a straight up feel good track that shouldn’t be skipped over.

“Jupiter Hollow” maintains a bit of that funk, adding some cowbell and wah-wah effects to the mix, but at a slower pace. Garth’s keyboards do date the song a bit, but not in a painful way necessarily. It’s really the main critique of the album, Garth’s dated noises, but they don’t really distract or detract, they’re just signposts that the album was made in the mid-70s. Despite that, the song really hits a sweet spot on the chorus with the three singers once again syncing up. While the instrumentation may be dated, those vocals, those melodies, that passion, will always be timeless.

“Rags And Bones” closes the album with another pitch perfect vocal by Richard Manuel. One of the great shames of the Band’s legacy is that so many people only really know the band through The Last Waltz, a film that essentially relegates Manuel (whose voice was completely shot for the concert) to the shadows and lifts Robbie Robertson up to some kind of godlike levels. It’s a friggin’ shame because on the albums, Manuel’s voice is possibly the group’s most celebrated instrument. “Rags And Bones” is simply another example of the man’s wonderful, touching voice.

When people talk about the Band’s legacy, they often get dismissed when mentioned along the likes of the Beatles, the Stones, the Who, etc. because they were only really good for two albums. For those who haven’t discovered for themselves, that’s a total crock. All of their albums are magnificent, and Northern Lights – Southern Cross is a prime example that the group’s creative spark didn’t die at the dawn of the decade. Northern Lights-Southern Cross is nothing if not an overlooked classic.

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 22nd, 2008 at 2:37 pm and is filed under News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.