It was the perfect eulogy for Jaime Royal Robertson. To that distant falling angel that descended much too soon. “It taught us more about giving than we ever cared to know,” Diamond’s assertive baritone declares as Robertson’s jagged guitar fills roll on behind, “but we came to know the secret, and we never let it go.” What and whose secret? And in the song’s enigmatic conclusion, we are told, with a vision of the sturm und drang that rocked America for over a decade back then: “Right through the lightning and the thunder to the dark side of the moon. “From the center of the circle, to the midst of the waiting crowd,” Diamond sings, “If it ever be forgotten, sing it long and sing it loud.
Its lyrics are simple, uncompromising, and uplifting, and it works hard for its moments of ecstatic resolution. It is at once an anthem and a meditation on the upheavals of the 1960s and ’70s, sounding a note that is sad but also brassy and defiant. I turned instead to “ Dry Your Eyes,” the standout track, produced and co-written by Robertson, on Neil Diamond’s 1976 album Beautiful Noise. But it was not “ Up on Cripple Creek,” “ The Weight,” “ The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” or any of The Band’s other standards that came to my mind in the wake of Robertson’s death. I have embraced them, loved them, emulated them, played their songs, and watched Martin Scorsese’s 1978 film of their final concert, The Last Waltz, religiously over the years. I have listened to The Band since my early teens. Strangely, when I heard that Robbie Robertson-lead guitarist and chief songwriter of The Band-had died on August 9th at the age of 80, I did not turn to The Band’s music for solace. ’Cos twilight is the loneliest time of day.
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