VOLUME 1, ISSUE 26 | July / August, 2007

Voices / Music

Levon Helm: Midnight Rambler

By Ken Shane

In Martin Scorsese’s The Last Waltz Levon Helm talks about his memories of the traveling medicine shows of his youth. “After the finale, they’d have the midnight ramble,” he tells Scorsese. “The songs would get a little bit juicier. The jokes would get a little funnier and the prettiest dancer would really get down and shake it a few times. A lot of the rock-and-roll duck walks and moves came from that.”

From the nineteenth century up until World War II the traveling medicine show was a staple of Southern life in the United States. The main purpose of the show was to promote the sale of an elixir, commonly known as snake oil, which purported to cure any number of ills, or even remove the wrinkles in clothes. But snake-oil sales were just a part of the story. The show’s real attraction was the entertainment, which could include a freak show, a flea circus, magic, comedy, storytelling, and musical acts.

The last and arguably greatest of the medicine shows was called the Hadacol Caravan, which was sponsored by the LeBlanc Corporation, makers of the rather dubious “tonic” from which the show derived its name. Though Hadacol was said to have curative powers, its real attraction might have been its high alcohol content. The show barnstormed throughout the Deep South in the 1940s before coming to a halt amidst scandal in 1951. A number of prominent musical acts and Hollywood celebrities were part of the Caravan.

Levon Helm was born in Marvell, Arkansas, in 1940, and although he left his Southern home many years ago, his roots run deep. A few years back he decided to create his own version of the medicine shows, and the Levon Helm Midnight Ramble was born.

Today Helm lives on 16 acres in Woodstock, New York. The site includes his house and studio, a three-acre lake, and signs warning visitors to watch out for the bears that have been known to make frequent appearances on the property. The house itself is exactly the type of rustic wooden structure in which you would expect the former drummer of The Band to reside. It’s not exactly Big Pink, but the spirit of that nearby shrine remains fully intact here. Helm built the house in the 1970s, and rebuilt it after a fire in the early 1990s. The attached studio, site of the Midnight Rambles, was built by local craftsmen, without the use of a single nail.

The Ramble began as a way to keep the wolf from the door. A bout with throat cancer in the ’90s had a disastrous effect on Helm’s career. His distinctive voice was silenced for several years, and his house was in foreclosure. Helm had always been there when the town of Woodstock needed him, and a group of grateful local people, led by manager Barbara O’Brien, raced to the rescue. They were determined not to allow this special place to fall into the wrong hands.

The answer for Levon Helm was the same answer that took him from Arkansas to the world’s greatest stages. He needed to make music. And so, every Saturday night when he’s is in town, there is a Ramble in his studio. It’s a musical version of Field of Dreams. Helm built it, and people come from all over the world.

It begins, as any country idyll should, with a turn off a winding rural lane, and a descent through the woods on an unpaved driveway. There are no hard tickets. People reserve their places online, often far in advance. Much of the team that makes the Ramble go so smoothly is made up of volunteers. The couple from New Jersey, Tom and Kathy, who greet you at the bottom of the driveway, are a prime example. They are so devoted that they drive to Woodstock nearly every Saturday night to help out. There are local firemen who help with the parking, and local police who provide very low-key security. From the moment you arrive, everyone involved makes you feel like an honored guest in their home.

Nearly everyone brings food or beverages, and they are encouraged to place them in an area set up in the studio’s lower level, to be shared by all. Billy mans the merchandise table in the same area, and there’s a large hanging tarp that visitors are asked to sign, to commemorate their visit.

Then it’s upstairs for the music. The beautiful performance space is like a musical cathedral. There is no stage. The musicians and the audience are on the same level, as if you are sitting in someone’s living room, which is pretty much the case. You can take a seat on the main level, or opt to head up to the mezzanine that surrounds it on three sides.

There are usually one or two bands to start the evening. On this night a band from Vermont, Bow Thayer and Perfect Train Wreck, is making its second appearance at The Ramble. Far from your typical opening act, they thrill the audience of about 200 people with their beautifully played and sung Americana-style songs.

The Alexis P. Suter Band performs at nearly every Ramble, and tonight is no exception. Led by Suter’s big voice, this is a topnotch soul and rhythm-and-blues band. It mixes original songs with stirring covers such as Gladys Knight’s “Imagination”, and The Beatles’ “Come Together”.

In the end though, it is the legendary Levon Helm that the people have come to see. His once-stilled voice is back and stronger than ever. His drumming remains unique and immediately identifiable. The highlights of the nearly two-hour set, for the most part, are Helm’s renditions of songs that he made famous with The Band, including “Ophelia,” “Rag Mama Rag,” “W.S. Walcott Medicine Show,” and the evening’s closing anthem, “The Weight.”

Woodstock has become synonymous with a sense of sharing and community, and that spirit is very much alive up at Levon Helm’s house. The Midnight Ramble is simply one of the most unique musical events in the world today, and one that you should not miss.

For information about the Midnight Ramble, please visit www.levonhelm.com.

Ken Shane is a performing songwriter and journalist. His CD, South Ridgeway Avenue, was released in 2003. His writing has appeared in several magazines, and he is currently collaborating on a novel inspired by his songs.

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