The Band cleaned up nicely for their first LP, and it is one
of the definitive albums of its day. If it weren’t already clear that
psychedelia wouldn’t last, an album like Big
Pink makes the case with wonderful nonchalance. It’s not that this music
isn’t contemporary, it is, but it also feels traditional and ancient, the way
good folk music is supposed to. The Band were a great bunch of musicians, first
and foremost. In the beginning, at least, there was no grandstanding, rock star
stuff. Manuel was a very accomplished musician from before they were The Hawks
and his singing voice graces some of their more haunting songs.
Personally, I tended to downplay his vocal contribution,
preferring the gutsiness of Levon Helm’s singing and the weird, shaky quality
in Rick Danko’s vocals. Manuel, though, is very soulful, and I picked today’s song as one that he has sole composing credit on. “Tears of Rage,” the lead-off song of the
album, is one Manuel wrote with Dylan, and Manuel’s vocal takes it where Dylan
could never go. For me, the most characteristic “Manuel moment” on today's
song is the wordless hums or moans that float in around the midway point and
again at the end. There you hear Manuel’s ability to go all ethereal, but in a
very emotive way.
Manuel, Robertson, Helm, Hudson, Danko |
The song itself is one that I soaked up in those early
tape-making days of 1978. It figured on a side where it was a prime
mood-setter. I like the slow and stately quality of the song, with lyrics that
would not be out of place in some mind-bending psychedelic epic, but that also have a
bit of olde English flair. “Once I was in the halls of a station” isn’t so far
a cry from “I dreamed I dwelt in marble halls.” “Fell asleep until the
moonlight woke me” is a lovely figure. Set against the observations of the halls,
and the children, and the mountain and wild fruit, there are very introspective
reflections: “Wonder could you ever know me / Know the reason why I live / Is
there nothing you can show me / Life seems so little to give.” This has the kind of concision that shows The
Band have been hanging out with a great songwriter but also that they’ve taken
to heart some of the great folk songs of the past. The idea of the unknowable
speaker, who is trying (and probably failing) to put his heart on the line
here, also sounds a bit arrogant or desperate, or both. But there’s a bit of “It’s life and life only”
underlying the sentiment.
Later that part, which feels musically like the refrain,
comes up with “Out of all the idle scheming / Can’t we have something to feel”—I
always liked that “idle scheming” as a phrase for all the trivial things we do
that never come off. The sorts of things one does to avoid thinking about
anything weightier, or anything that might make one really feel something. The Band were not hippies but they certainly
fit in with the idea that there were some ways of life more authentic than
others. I think lots of us turned to them as having some connection to how the
authentic should sound. And for their first three albums, and here and there
throughout their run, they lived up to that.
The part that, to me, has real lyrical charm is: “‘Once upon
a time’ leaves me empty / Tomorrow never came.” There’s maybe a bit of a
smack-down to two savants of the day: Dylan, who gave us “once upon a time you
dressed so fine,” and Lennon, who gave us “tomorrow never knows.” The echo may
be unconscious or may be deliberate, but, either way, it’s a nice way of saying
the past ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, fables or no, and the future is a lot
of stuff that might never happen.
Richard Manuel, of all the members of The Band, had the
hardest time with substance abuse. It grabbed him early after they "made it," and made his musical
contributions less than they might have been. Some of that may have been caused
by having to cede the songwriting to Robbie Robertson, who was kind of
demonstrative about his skill. Manuel was a mainstay of the sound of The Band all
through it, and it’s regrettable that he ended his own life in 1986 on one of
those tours to nowhere that must’ve been a bit too depressing. The Band was not
likely to stir big crowds in the late Eighties, that’s for sure. Come the next
decade, there would be many more bands looking to them as the “roots rock”
pioneers they were.
Must be some way to
repay you
Out of the all the
good you gave
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