Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, February 19, 1994 TAG: 9402190035
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 12 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE:
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
At one point during "The Last Waltz," a film about the final concert of the legendary rock group, The Band, the musicians are discussing a personal subject when one of them stops and, rather curtly, announces, "I thought you weren't supposed to talk about that. Why don't we move on to something else?"
The man who said that was Levon Helm; it's interesting that he would be the first to publish a book about himself and the group, particularly an account that is aggressively thorough and upfront.
"This Wheel's On Fire" is a book that takes some getting used to. It misfires as early as the prologue, where Helm initiates his tone: conversational, folksy to the point of seeming affected, and chock full of corn. Though this is Helm's natural voice, he might have opted for a more detached perspective, such as in the scene where he discovers the body of a dead friend: "What I saw just broke my heart. That's for damn sure. It would've broken yours too." This is not a book for cynics.
Somehow, though, the book pulls out of its nosedive. Helm is no threat to music historian Dave Marsh, but he gives a first-hand look at how rock music grew from being a hybrid of rhythm & blues and country, into an industry that, in some cases, devours unprepared, prodigious musicians like The Band. The details of his story are sprawling and engrossing.
Helm provides thorough glimpses into Big Pink, the house where, in the late '60s, The Band recorded their excellent Basement Tapes with Bob Dylan, and where their harmonized, intricate style coagulated. Helm also portrays Robbie Robertson (the group's lead guitarist and chief songwriter, who initiated The Band's break-up) as a manipulative, backstabbing prima donna. This characterization may or may not be sour grapes over his bandmate's solo success, but whatever the case, it's surprising and unfortunate.
"This Wheel's On Fire" may be flawed, sometimes ham-fisted in its style; it may make it difficult to watch "The Last Waltz" without looking for (and finding) contradictions and confirmations; and it may seem biased and manufactured (for a confessed hard drug abuser, Helm's total recall of conversations and dates is a little suspicious); but for a fan of The Band, or for someone interested in rock and roll during its first heyday, this book is revealing and entertaining.
Neil Harvey lives in Blacksburg.
by CNB