Saturday, February 20, 2021

CD Odyssey Disc 1451: The Band

For the second straight review we have an album with a song about Cripple Creek. This seems unlikely, but be assured this is a coincidence, not a conspiracy. Your lazy brain is just looking for a shortcut through the chaos.

Disc 1451 is…. Self-Titled

Artist: The Band

Year of Release: 1969

What’s up with the Cover?  It’s…the band. The cover is a respectable entry in the “here we all are” portrait genre.

How I Came To Know It: I grew up hearing “Up on Cripple Creek” on the radio, but never thought to buy the album. Then last year Sheila and I watched a documentary about the Band, and it got me all excited about both them and this era/style of music generally. I went out and bought this album and “Songs from Big Pink” later that week. I also bought a couple Byrds albums for good measure.

How It Stacks Up: I have two albums by the Band. If you are following along you already know which two. I’m not sure yet how I feel about “Songs from Big Pink” but for now I’ll put their self-titled effort in first place, while expressing my usual right to change my mind down the road.

Ratings: 3 stars

The Band’s eponymous debut is a seminal album in the history of rock and roll, that nevertheless finds various ways to annoy me, starting with the title.

It is bad enough that The Band call themselves “The Band,” which in terms of mailing it in is probably second only to “The The”. In addition, I have a general pet peeve with the many examples of bands that eponymously name albums that aren’t their first. It is confusing, and frankly you should’ve done it for record #1. You’ve missed your chance, now move on, and go come up with something more creative. May I suggest the opening track (“Across the Great Divide”), whatever hit your A&R man suggests (“Up on Cripple Creek”) or maybe just something that relates to the cover (“Five Guys with Facial Hair”). But I digress…

Back to the actual record, which features first rate songwriting and musicianship. The Band is like Blue Oyster Cult, in that every member brings their own talent to the mix. The songs reflect this collaborative effort, despite the fact that Robbie Robertson wrote most of them. This is aided by the fact that (just like Blue Oyster Cult) three different members (Levon Helm, Rick Danko and Richard Manuel) take turns on lead vocals.

As for those vocals, I realize Levon Helm takes the…ahem… “helm” on the two hits, and his distinctive warble is a big part of the Band’s sound. As for me, I have a love-hate relationship with it. On songs like “Up on Cripple Creek” he is what gives the song that wanton hippie vibe that makes it a classic. That and the fact that is song has one of the great sing-a-long choruses of all time. There is simply no resisting jumping in every time Helm launches into “up on Cripple Creek, she sends me…” It is a drunkard’s dream for narrator and listener alike.

On “Jemima Surrender” Helm’s vocals feel a bit too much of a drunkard’s dream. It isn’t just Helm, though. I feel the same way about Rick Danko on “Jawbone”. The group effort that makes the Band so great, draws them down into excess together as well. They sound like a bunch of friends getting too high and making music, which is great, except sometimes the final product sounds a bit too much like a bunch of friends getting high and making music. Your roll is brilliant gentlemen, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t slow it on occasion.

Of course, the Band’s organic sound is in many ways the whole point, and my criticism is blasphemous given their importance in the history of rock and roll. They are all brilliant and even the songs that irk me are – objectively – still great songs. I just gotta be real with how much I enjoyed them. If you don’t mind the deliberately loose sway of a jam perfected, then you are going to love this record. As for me, I merely liked it.

Best tracks: The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, Up on Cripple Creek, Look Out Cleveland, King Harvest (Has Surely Come)

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