RIP Levon Helm.

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Levon Helm, Drummer in the Band, Dies at 71

Levon Helm, who helped forge a deep-rooted American music as the drummer and singer for the Band, died on Thursday in Manhattan. He was 71 and lived in Woodstock, N.Y.
His death was announced by a spokeswoman for Vanguard Records, for which he had recorded several albums. He had been suffering from cancer for several years.

In Mr. Helm’s drumming, muscle, swing, economy and finesse were inseparably merged. His voice held the bluesy, weathered and resilient essence of his Arkansas upbringing in the Mississippi Delta.

Mr. Helm was the American linchpin of the otherwise Canadian group that became Bob Dylan’s backup band and then the Band. Its own songs — largely written by the Band’s guitarist, Jaime Robbie Robertson, and pianist, Richard Manuel — spring from roadhouse, church, backwoods, river and farm; they are rock-ribbed with history and tradition yet hauntingly surreal.

After the original Band’s breakup in 1976, Mr. Helm continued to perform at every opportunity, working with a partly reunited Band and leading his own groups. He also acted in films, notably “Coal Miner’s Daughter,“ and in the 2000s he became a roots-music patriarch. His barn in Woodstock has been a recording studio since 1975, and in 2004 it also became the home of down-home, eclectic concerts called Midnight Rambles, which led to tours and Grammy-winning albums.

Mr. Helm’s drumming valued space over showiness. He gave his drums a muffled, bottom-heavy sound that placed them in the foundation of the arrangements, and his tom-toms were tuned so that their pitch would bend downward as the tone faded.

Mr. Helm didn’t call attention to himself. Three bass-drum thumps at the beginning of one of the Band’s anthems, “The Weight,“ were all that he needed to establish the song’s gravity; in “The Shape I’m In,“ he juxtaposed Memphis soul, New Orleans rumba and military tattoo. His playing was sturdy and self-effacing, dedicated to serving the song. But it also had a loose, improvisational feel, tersely responsive to the music.

In the Band, lead vocals changed from song to song and harmonies were elaborately communal. But particularly when lyrics turned to myths and tall tales of the American South — like “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” “Up on Cripple Creek,” “Ophelia” and “Rag Mama Rag” — the lead went to Mr. Helm, with his Arkansas twang and a voice that could sound desperate, ornery and amused at the same time.

In a 1984 interview with Modern Drummer magazine, Mr. Helm described the “right ingredients” for his work in music and film as “life and breath, heart and soul.”

Mark Lavon Helm was born on May 26, 1940, in Marvell, Ark., the son of a cotton farmer with land near Turkey Scratch, Ark. In his 1993 autobiography, “This Wheel’s on Fire: Levon Helm and the Story of the Band,“ written with Stephen Davis, Mr. Helm said he was part Chickasaw Indian through his paternal grandfather. He grew up hearing live bluegrass, Delta blues, country and the beginnings of rock ’n’ roll; Memphis was just across the river.

His father gave him a guitar when he was 9, and he soon started performing: in a duo with his sister Linda and in a high school rock ‘n’ roll band, the Jungle Bush Beaters. He also played drums in the Marvell High School band.

Mr. Helm was in 11th grade when the Arkansas-born rockabilly singer Ronnie Hawkins hired him as a drummer in 1957. He traveled with Mr. Hawkins to Canada, where the shows paid better, and Mr. Hawkins settled there. Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks played six nights a week in Ontario and released a few singles on Roulette Records.

In Canada, Mr. Hawkins gradually assembled the lineup that would become the Band. “He knew what musicians had the fire,” Mr. Helm once said. By 1961 Mr. Hawkins was backed by Mr. Helm, Mr. Robertson, Mr. Manuel, Rick Danko on bass and Garth Hudson on organ. They had trouble pronouncing Lavon, and Mr. Helm began using Levon instead.

In 1963, weary of Mr. Hawkins’s discipline, Levon and the Hawks left to start their own bar-band career. The blues singer John Hammond Jr. heard them in Toronto and brought Mr. Robertson, Mr. Hudson and Mr. Helm into the studio in 1964 to back him on the album “So Many Roads.“

Bob Dylan brought an electric band to the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. Members of that band had other commitments, and for a summer tour Mr. Dylan hired Mr. Robertson and Mr. Helm. At their first rehearsals, Mr. Helm recalled, his reaction was, “I couldn’t believe how many words this guy had in his music, or how he remembered them all.“ Before playing their first show, at Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, Mr. Dylan told the band, “Just keep playing, no matter how weird it gets.“

They polarized the audience and were booed, and while a subsequent concert at the Hollywood Bowl was better received, another band member, the keyboardist Al Kooper, chose to leave. At that point Mr. Helm told Albert Grossman, Mr. Dylan’s manager, “Take us all, or don’t take anybody.“ The Hawks became Mr. Dylan’s band.

They backed Mr. Dylan on a studio single, “Can You Please Crawl OuYour Window?,“ and toured with him through the fall. Mr. Helm quit the band late in 1965. “I wasn’t made to be booed,“ he wrote.

Mr. Dylan had a motorcycle accident in 1966 that ended his touring with the Hawks. While he recuperated in Woodstock the Hawks, who were on retainer, rented a big pink house in a neighboring town, West Saugerties, for $125 a month. For most of 1967 the Hawks, with Mr. Manuel playing drums, worked five days a week on music: writing songs with and without Mr. Dylan, playing them at his home and at the house they called Big Pink, and recording them on a two-track tape recorder in the basement there. Songs sent to Mr. Dylan’s publisher were soon bootlegged.

In the winter of 1967, the band summoned Mr. Helm to rejoin them. With Mr. Manuel on drums, Mr. Helm picked up mandolin, although he would soon return to drums.

Mr. Grossman got the Hawks their own recording contract with Capitol in February 1968, initially under the group name the Crackers, a name Capitol didn’t like. There was no band name on the LP label or front cover of “Music From Big Pink,“ the group’s debut album, which simply had a painting by Mr. Dylan as its cover. (The songs had been written at Big Pink but recorded in professional studios.) The LP label read “MUSIC FROM BIG PINK” along with the musicians’ names, while inside the album cover, the musicians were listed under the words “THE BAND” “The name of the group is just our Christian names,“ Mr. Robertson insisted in a September 1968 interview. But the band became the Band.

Released on July 1, 1968, the year after “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,“ “Music From Big Pink“ was “rebelling against the rebellion,” Mr. Helm wrote. There were no elaborate studio confections, no psychedelic jams, no gimmicks; the music was stately and homespun, with a deliberately old-time tone behind the enigmatic lyrics. Sales were modest but the album’s influence was huge, leading musicians like Eric Clapton and the Grateful Dead back toward concision.

Adding to its mystique, the Band didn’t tour until 1969 because Mr. Danko broke his neck in an auto accident. It made its concert debut as the Band at Winterland in San Francisco in April 1969.

By then, the Band was well into recording its second album, simply titled “The Band,“ which would include the Band’s only Top 30 single, “Up on Cripple Creek.“ The album was universally hailed, and the Band played a summer of huge pop festivals, backing Mr. Dylan at the Isle of Wight and performing in August at Woodstock. In 1970, Mr. Helm and the songwriter Libby Titus had a daughter, Amy; she survives him, along with his wife since 1981, the former Sandra Dodd, and a grandchild.

The Band would never match its two initial masterpieces. By the time the group started recording its 1970 album, “Stage Fright,” members were drinking heavily and using heroin, and there were disputes over songwriting credits and publishing royalties, of which Mr. Robertson had by far the greatest share. The collaborative spirit of the first two albums was disappearing. But the Band’s career had momentum; it toured internationally and a live album, “Rock of Ages,“ reached the Top 10 in 1972. In 1974, the Band made a studio album with Mr. Dylan, “Planet Waves,“ and toured with him; “The Basement Tapes,“ a collection of songs with and without Mr. Dylan from the Big Pink era, was released in 1975.
 
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In September 1976, Mr. Robertson decided to declare the end of the Band’s touring career with a grand finale: “The Last Waltz,” an all-star concert at Winterland that was recorded and filmed (by Martin Scorsese) on Thanksgiving 1976. Mr. Helm hated the film, believing that it glorified Mr. Robertson and slighted the rest of the Band. After “The Last Waltz,” the original Band lineup returned to the studio for one last album, the desultory “Islands,“ which completed its Capitol contract.

Mr. Helm had already embarked on a solo career. He also branched out into acting, playing Loretta Lynn’s father in “Coal Miner’s Daughter“ as well as roles in “The Right Stuff“ and in a television movie with Jane Fonda, “The Dollmaker.“

But Mr. Helm wanted above all to be a working musician. In the early 1980s he toured with his fellow Band members, minus Mr. Robertson. They were on the road in 1986 when Mr. Manuel committed suicide. But Mr. Helm, Mr. Danko and Mr. Hudson continued to work together as the Band, with additional musicians and songwriters, releasing three albums during the 1990s. Mr. Danko died in 1999. Meanwhile, Mr. Helm’s barn studio became a hub for musicians from Woodstock and beyond, often with Mr. Helm and Mr. Hudson sitting in.

Mr. Helm, a heavy smoker, contracted throat cancer in the late 1990s, and for months he could not speak above a whisper. A tumor was removed from his vocal cords, and he underwent 28 radiation treatments. Medical bills threatened him with the loss of his home. Partly to raise money, in 2004 he began putting on concerts called Midnight Rambles at his barn: leisurely house parties with unannounced guest stars, featuring a band of his own that delved into old and new Americana as well as the Band catalog.

His voice strengthened, and the core of his Midnight Ramble bands became a touring and recording group; it performed in 2009 at the 40th anniversary of the Woodstock Festival on its site in Bethel, N.Y., although Mr. Helm was unable to sing that night. Mr. Helm’s 2007 and 2009 studio albums, “Dirt Farmer” and “Electric Dirt,” won Grammy Awards, as did his 2011 “Ramble at the Ryman” recorded live in Nashville and broadcast on PBS.

Nearly to the end, Mr. Helm spent his life on the bandstand. “If it doesn’t come from your heart,” he wrote, “music just doesn’t work.”

 
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"The Weight" is one of my favorite songs! I love the live version from the Ryman Auditorium a few years back.
 
The suns gonna shine in the morning when i slip away.....guess he knew it was coming. Bad assed song btw
 
"The Weight" is one of my favorite songs! I love the live version from the Ryman Auditorium a few years back.

Love that tune! We have this tradition in my family that when we all get together, we blast that song and sing along (most of the time we are drunk by then). Actually, at my own wedding (at the request of several family members), we had the DJ play this song. Me, my dad, my uncle and both of my brothers grabbed the DJs mic and got up in front of everyone and sang our hearts out. Good times.
 
"Drummers should not sing, unless they're Levon Helm."-Nick Lowe (Or Dave Edmunds??)

R.I.P. Levon
 

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