Tag Archives: the band

#765: The Band – Look Out Cleveland

‘Look Out Cleveland’ by The Band is a very fine song. It was one of the first few that really grabbed my attention upon listening to the group’s 1969 album, even though I don’t think it’s one that people give much thought about when thinking about that record. It’s a track with a very simple structure, alternating between its chorus and verses before coming to a close after three minutes, but it’s the energy from all band members involved and the great harmonies between bassist Rick Danko and drummer Levon Helm that raise the performance to another level.

Bit by bit each band member is introduced in the beginning, starting off with Richard Manuel’s screaming boogie-woogie piano alongside Robbie Robertson’s guitar who are then joined by the stuttering rhythm section. The chorus then crashes in with strident chords where Danko and Helm send a warning to the people of Cleveland, Texas (not Ohio) to look out for the storm that’s coming their way. The verses are told from the perspective of a Cleveland citizen who relays to the listener when they found out the storm was on its way, how natural phonomenons like lightning and storm clouds shouldn’t be taken as a joke and if they are, the people will be running for shelter when things really start to go down.

Again, I’ll just say it’s a great performance by The Band. All members seemed to be locked in with one another, getting the right groove, coming in and dropping out at the right moments. Really fine rhythms on show here too. The whole album is anchored by the band’s ability to play with pinpoint precision. Although this won’t be the last song of theirs I’ll cover here, it will be the last from this album. I wasn’t able to write about album opener ‘Across the Great Divide’ and bonus track ‘Get Up Jake’, two songs which are well worth the time.

#697: The Band – King Harvest (Has Surely Come)

‘King Harvest (Has Surely Come)’ is probably the best song on The Band’s self-titled album from 1969. Some may argue ‘The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down’ trumps it. It’s definitely a classic. ‘Whispering Pines’? I hear you, that’s not too bad (it’s definitely not my favourite, but I won’t hold anything against you if it is). Nah, it’s ‘King Harvest’. The final track on The Band, it has all five original members of the group in lock with one another’s groove – totally in sync with one another and playing just the suitable amount of notes and chords when needed.

It’s a tale of a farmer who has had their fair share of misfortune in their time. Their crops won’t grow because of a lack of rain, the barn went up in flames the preceding years, and a horse was driven to madness. It’s nothing that I can relate to. But it’s a fantastic set of descriptive lyrics. And what makes them greater is Richard Manuel’s vocal take when singing them. It’s one out of the many times Manuel sings his heart out on the album, and it’s here that he utilises the higher register in his voice to give off a real pained feeling from the subject matter. Drummer Levon Helm joins in during the chorus, providing a fine contrast with his lower tone.

The whole album is grounded by a theme of America, its history, culture, and agriculture. That all comes to a head on ‘King Harvest’. Even though it doesn’t have a great tone of finality to it, the band’s perfect performance makes it a worthy closer for any album.

#664: The Band – Jawbone

The Band’s self-titled album from 1969 is definitely my favourite album of the group’s. I’ve only really listened to that and Music from Big Pink out of their discography, but I still prefer what is usually referred to as the ‘brown album’ by a long stretch. Even so, my original point still stands.

‘Jawbone’ is the 10th song on The Band, written by both guitarist Robbie Robertson and pianist/vocalist Richard Manuel. The latter is the lead vocalist here, with drummer Levon Helm on the backing. The track tells a story of a man who goes from town to town stealing anything he can and taking great pride in doing so.

Originally I didn’t care too much for the song when I first heard it about…. 6 years ago? I was 18. Though I did think the starting “Oh Jawbone…” lyric was funny just because of the way it was sung. I gave the album another full listen two years following and found, after actually paying attention to it, that past the introduction was a song led by a galloping groove and a great melody. Manuel sings his heart out, you can hear him moving away from the microphone when he’s going for those high notes in the chorus. And even without the vocals I find myself just humming to Rick Danko’s bassline as it climbs and descends through the verses.

It’s mostly in 6/4 time which provides the skipping feel to the track, and there are various points where the tempo changes from a shuffle to a waltz and then to a full on 4/4 smash. It’s one of the album’s most interesting cuts and quite stylish for its time.

#619: The Band – In a Station

I’m not a massive follower of The Band. I do have to admit that their self-titled album from 1969 is great though. Has a lot of great songs on there that I haven’t talked about but will in the future. Until last year that was the only album of theirs that I listened to. Music from Big Pink, the album that today’s song is taken from, is all right in my eyes. The follow-up is much better. Though it must be said that Big Pink is probably one of the most important releases of the 60s. A lot of contemporaneous groups were influenced by its organic qualities and noted it as a way forward in music following the heavy psychedelia of 1967.

‘In a Station’ is the third number on here, written and sung by the band’s pianist Richard Manuel. The Band had three main singers: Manuel, drummer Levon Helm, and bassist Rick Danko. Out of the three, Manuel arguably had the best voice. He had a lot of soul in it. Very vulnerable and his delivery could be devastatingly heartbreaking on some songs. That’s not too different here. Manuel sings about walking through a station, noting what he sees and what he hears and wonders if the people he witnesses would ever care to have any sort of personal interaction with him. It’s quite an existential track topped with vivid imagery and quasi-philosophical lyricism.

The main focus musically is all in that centre channel where Manuel’s vocal is along with those rich keyboards by Garth Hudson and the rhythm section. Then Danko and Helm join in for some fantastic harmonies in the choruses. Robbie Robertson’s acoustic guitar is on the right and Manuel’s rhythm keyboard is on the left but they’re really hard to notice when you’re listening to the melodies in the vocal. It’s a very sincere song; it can really take you out of yourself for a few minutes.