RICK DANKO

Arista AB 4141 (1977)

If you grew up during the seventies and listened to any music at all, you've probably at least heard of The Band, four Canadians and one American who began their career together as backup musicians first for Ronnie Hawkins and later for Bob Dylan. Their albums were praised for capturing the sound of the American heartland and the pioneer spirit that went with it. Rick Danko was a guy from Simcoe, Ontario who played bass and sang on many of The Band's most beloved songs, such as "The Weight" and "Stage Fright". The idea of someone "singing from their heart" is a tired trope in rock 'n' roll, but you couldn't find a better embodiment of it than Danko; his vocals were 100% free of pretension or mannerism. On a technical level, he may not have been a Van Morrison or a Sam Cooke, but he sang with the same kind of soul.

There's a moment in The Last Waltz, the concert film of The Band's final performance together, that shows director Martin Scorsese interviewing Danko during the recording of this album. As he plays Scorsese a tape of "Sip the Wine", Danko grows quiet, hat pulled low over his eyes, lost in the music. On stage, Danko would bounce and bob as he plucked his bass, his limbs turning to rubber as he sang with a combination of innocence and possession, totally giving himself over to the music. (For an even more extreme example of this, check out the film Festival Express for an informal jam session with Janis Joplin and members of the Grateful Dead, in which Danko sings a drunken version of "Ain't No More Cane" that is so wild that Joplin asks him if he's "okay". Folks, if Janis Joplin is worried about your health and sobriety, then you may have a problem.*).

Rick Danko isn't a set-the-world-on-fire type of album, but, like its creator, it possesses a laid-back, humble charm that will satisfy any Band fan. It's the ballads that make the album; the keening "Sip the Wine" and "Shake It" are the kind of songs that gently touch the listener on the shoulder, while the up-tempo rockers ("What a Town" and "Java Blues") grab your hand and swing you out onto the dance floor. The guest list reads like a who's-who of seventies rock: Eric Clapton, Doug Sahm, Ron Wood, and every member of the Band appear throughout the record. It's a "super-session" that sounds remarkably free of ego, a rarity for its time, mostly due to the man behind the bass.

*(Side note: recently a friend told me an anecdote about some friends of his who were at a house party in Simcoe. An inebriated Rick Danko showed up at the door, much to the chagrin of the hosts. "Oh, God, don't let him in!'" they said; now, mind you, everyone there knew who he was, and they were all big Band/Last Waltz fans, but apparently Rick had a bit of a rep as a hard partier. He kept pounding on the door, shouting, "Hey, let me in, man! I'm Rick Danko!" while everyone pretended to be "not home". In the morning, they found him asleep on the porch. I probably would have let him in; whether I would have regretted it or not is something I'll never know.)