One of the best music memoirs I have read. Levon Helm has a great attitude about the ups and downs of his career with The Band. The biggest mystery is- if he truly did spend so many years drinking and using drugs and travelling on the road, carousing, and staying up until all hours every night playing music with The Band, how in the world can he remember so many details going all the way back to the late 50s? Perhaps he was an obsessive diarist, although it does not seem to be his nature. Well, it shall remain a mystery.
Nonetheless, here is a guy with a passion for music, an extroverted ability to relate cordially with other musicians, and a sort of country gusto that allows him to pour on the aggression when necessary for self-defense, but also to be kind, gentlemanly, and loyal.
He wrote this book with a co-author. Most of it is first-person, but from time to time he pulls in quotes written or spoken by bandmates, old friends, and old girlfriends. This is useful, such as when he allows Libby Titus and his eventual wife, Sandy to describe the moment they fell in love with him and relate what a handsome gentleman he was. (He could hardly describe this himself.)
However, I suspect a little bit of fudging may have occurred. During the preparations for The Last Waltz, around 1976, he notes that he and Libby mutually decided to split up, "which was what we both needed." But then, in 1978, Sandy mentions that "Libby found out about us and immediately instituted a support order." It is so hard not to get caught up in reconstructing a musician's personal history, especially once they open the door.
Another trait that comes through repeatedly is Levon's loyalty to musicians he has known and respected for years. During an account of the financial skullduggery that went on during the planning of The Last Waltz, at one point an accountant tries to convince Levon to cut Muddy Waters from the lineup, citing time constraints. In probably my favorite moment in this story, Levon unleashes the wrath of Moses on this poor bean counter and drives him from the room, saving Muddy's slot, and thank goodness; it was one of the best parts of the movie.
Like many autobiographies, this one gets sad at the end. Not only do revered fellow musicians die (Richard Manuel, who committed suicide on the road) or go their own way (Robbie Robertson was the only one who wanted to break up the band, and he got his way), but the unfair business practices of managers and record labels are revealed: most egregiously, the crediting of virtually all the songs on the Band's first two wonderful albums - which were co-written in workshop fashion by the entire ensemble - to Robbie Robertson. Apparently of all of them, he was the one with the most ambition and business sense, and his alignment with manager Albert Grossman enabled him to cut some corners. All very sad.
Nonetheless, it was a pleasure reading Levon Helm's accounts, hearing his voice, and learning so much about the culture of music that the whole band made the air they breathed. A warning, though: if the film, The Last Waltz has always been a favorite of yours, this account may disillusion you somewhat.
On a happier note, the book was written in 1995. Levon survived another 20 or years or so; his daughter Amy (with a music career of her own) produced one of his last albums, and his last 2 recordings both won Grammy awards.