When Levon Helm died on April 19, 2012, there began an outpouring of grief and affection for the man and his music that has yet to fade completely as I write this, nearly a month later. That’s an eon in these days of 24-hour news cycles. Having made music professionally since the mid-1960s, Helm’s career recently been resurrected to critical acclaim as he went into remission following treatment for the throat cancer that eventually took his life. And the posthumous accolades have been phenomenal, for a figure who had been barely on the fringes of American popular music for the past 35 years.
Much of it possibly has to do with the man’s temperament, which by all accounts was among the mellowest and nicest in show business. But his peers obviously respected the music he was making, because the two solo albums he made in this decade both received Grammys: in the folk category for Dirt Farmer and in the new Americana category for Electric Dirt in 2010. The albums were born from the “midnight rambles” concert series he held at his home recording studio in Woodstock, N.Y.
In September 2008 Helm brought his band to Nashville’s Ryman Auditorium for a concert at the “mother church of country music.” And what a band it is. It’s directed by Larry Campbell, who can play just about anything with strings, and who is probably best known for touring with Bob Dylan in the past decade. Helm’s daughter Amy plays drums and mandolin and sings harmony with Campbell’s wife Theresa Williams. Brian Mitchell plays keyboards and accordion, and there’s a great horn section of Steven Bernstein on trumpet, Erik Lawrence and Jay Collins on sax and Clark Gayton on trombone and tuba. They’re also joined by some special guests. The result is documented on this CD and a companion DVD released in 2011. It’s a great live album. It draws on his years in The Band as well as much of the music that first drew him into a life of performing, from Delta blues and gospel to Appalachian ballads and death songs to rock ‘n’ roll and rhythm ‘n’ blues.
Among the latter, there’s Churk Berry’s “Back to Memphis” plus Buster Brown’s 1959 R&B classic “Fannie May” and the bluesy “Baby Scratch My Back” both led by bluesman Sammy Davis. Buddy Miller and Sam Bush contribute a gospel number written by Buddy and his wife Julie, “Wide River To Cross” and Helm sings the mournful mountain ballad “Anna Lee” by contemporary folksinger Laurelyn Dossett, both of which Helm covered on Dirt Farmer. Williams (I think) covers an old Lefty Frizzel honky-tonker, “Time Out For The Blues,” and Helm sings Paul Kennerley’s “A Train Robbery,” one of a long line of songs about Jesse James. And I’m pretty sure it’s Campbell leading the old standard “Deep Elem Blues” on vocals and a mean slide guitar.
But it’s classics from The Band’s songbook that open and close this album, with Helm laying down his tradmark licks on the kit. “Ophelia” swings like a night in New Orleans to open the show. “Rag Mama Rag” also gets the full band treatment, including a superb tuba solo from Gayton.
Sheryl Crow provides harmonies on the Cajun-inspired waltz “Evangeline.” The show ends on a one-two-three series of classics: the bluesy “The Shape I’m In,” a soulful “Chest Fever” and the enigmatic song that introduced Helm to the world when he sang it on Music From Big Pink, “The Weight.” John Hiatt does a grand job swapping lead vocal duties with Helm on this one, and just about everyone joins in on the choruses. The only track I’m not all that fond of is Crow’s cover of the Carter Family’s “No Depression In Heaven,” but I’ve just never been much of a fan of hers.
The Ryman Auditorium, the restored original home of the Grand Ole Opry, was the perfect venue for a concert like this that drew on the deep river of American song. And it sounds as though the audience was the kind that you’ll regularly find in Nashville, particularly at The Ryman, enthusiastic, appreciative and knowledgeable. I only wish I’d been there.
(Vanguard, 2011)
