Robbie Robertson 7: Sinematic

Much of Robbie Robertson’s career of late has been remastering the classic Band albums for each 50th anniversary, and film work whenever Martin Scorsese calls him. For only his second solo album of the 21st century, the good news about Sinematic is that he seemed to have gotten triphop out of his system. But while he’s accepted that his voice has one trick, the half-spoken, half-leered approach doesn’t always sustain, especially since he’s given up melodies. (He fancies himself a painter, too, as depicted in the artwork crammed into the deluxe limited vinyl version of the album.)

Guest vocals feature continually, so he can rest his throat. Heard widely in the Scorsese film The Irishman, “I Hear You Paint Houses” is sung as a near-duet with Van Morrison, Robbie apparently not caring that his voice is the palest comparison to Richard Manuel’s. “Once Were Brothers” also happens to the title of Robbie’s latest retelling of the Band saga, this time for a documentary; here he’s joined by Citizen Cope. “Dead End Kid” smolders nicely, but takes off once Glen Hansard (famous from musical films The Commitments and Once) adds his counterpoint vocals. “Hardwired” also sports a promising intro, but descends into a one-chord riff. “Walk In Beauty Way” features the cooing voice of Laura Satterfield, niece of Rita Coolidge, and Robbie responds nicely in his verses when he’s not sounding lecherous. Beginning with a riff based on “Smokestack Lightning”, “Let Love Reign” has a chorus hook right out of Fleetwood Mac, and not the blues version of the band, and uses Hansard less effectively. The shout-out to John Lennon is oddly placed too.

“Shanghai Blues” returns to gangster territory with questionable lyrics, but “Wandering Souls” is a, yes, cinematic instrumental that shows how well he and Daniel Lanois were suited for each other. In many ways, it has us wishing more of the music was strictly instrumental. More criminal activity pervades “Street Serenade”, but it’s a more interesting track overall. Unfortunately, Howie B shows up to put his burbling synths and vocal grunts on “The Shadow”, a not-very-mysterious celebration of the old-time radio crimefighter. “Beautiful Madness” also starts as a decent track, but he puts way too much emphasis on his ordinary lyrics, though some swagger returns on “Praying For Rain”, with a little of the spirit of Storyville. “Remembrance” is the other song included from the credits of The Irishman, and features Derek Trucks on guitar in duet with Frédéric Yonnet’s harmonica.

There is a cohesion throughout Sinematic, and it’s a sonically lush album. It’s just too bad he’s singing all over it. Any of these tracks would be a highlight on another singer’s record.

Robbie Robertson Sinematic (2019)—2½

Robbie Robertson 6: Testimony

After Levon Helm died, there were two surviving members of the Band. Garth Hudson never talks to anybody, but Robbie Robertson is always more than happy to tell the tale again. His autobiography, Testimony, was published in 2016, followed by a companion album.

While the book covers his life from birth through The Last Waltz, the album is much less organized, and in many ways unrelated. For one, it begins with a remix of the “title track”, from his 1987 debut solo album. From there it rambles throughout his performing career, throwing in a few early sides with Ronnie Hawkins and Levon & The Hawks, touching on the initial Dylan era with “Obviously 5 Believers” and a live “Rainy Day Women” from 1974. The Band itself is represented by previously released live versions, with the exception of “It Makes No Difference”, “Bessie Smith”, and “Out Of The Blue”—the latter two both rare instances of Robbie singing lead with the group. What’s called a “song sketch” of “Twilight” is pulled from one of the box sets he’d curated, and four further tracks are called from the solo albums.

There are other, better compilations of the Band, and definitive recordings with Dylan; a comprehensive Hawks collection would have been a better soundtrack for the book. It helps that the music is good, even if the thesis is unclear.

Robbie Robertson Testimony (2016)—3½

Robbie Robertson 5: How To Become Clairvoyant

After a decade spent scoring films and hawking the legacy of the Band, Robbie Robertson actually got around to recording an album of songs. Despite the photos of the artist in a hoodie and contributions from people like Trent Reznor and Marius de Vries, throughout How To Become Clairvoyant he generally acts his age and goes with his strengths.

He’s also wise enough to ask notable guests to contribute. “Straight Down The Line” immediately conjures good memories of his first two solo albums, with help from guitarist Robert Randolph. The sultry “When The Night Was Young” and “The Right Mistake” feature the vocals of one Angela McLuskey. But the most prominent special guest is Eric Clapton, who sings and plays on half the album, even writing some, while Steve Winwood adds his trademark organ. Clapton is most prominent on “Fear Of Falling”, which sounds more like one of his own recent albums, and the instrumental “Madame X”, which is the track with the Reznor credit but hardly Nine Inch Nails. “Axman” name-checks various guitar slingers of days gone by, but the only guy Robbie trades licks with is Tom Morello of Rage Against The Machine.

Even without the neon-bright guest appearances, the songs are commendable, for the most part. “He Don’t Live Here No More” is full of mystery, but “This Is Where I Get Off” only scratches the surface about why he left The Band, mostly relying on clichés. “She’s Not Mine” might sink under a more syrupy arrangement, but here he lets his raspy voice do the talking, whereas “Won’t Be Back” is sufficiently heartbreaking. The title track had already appeared on a soundtrack for the vampire TV series True Blood, and is loaded with imagery and metaphors, with a teasing narrative a la “Somewhere Down The Crazy River”. The closing instrumental “Tango For Django” doesn’t sound much like a tango to these ears, but some of the atmospherics are nice.

Without a doubt, How To Become Clairvoyant is a very pleasant surprise, and certainly the true follow-up to the debut and Storyville. It’s a grower, and we like that.

Robbie Robertson How To Become Clairvoyant (2011)—3

Robbie Robertson 4: Contact From The Underworld Of Redboy

Not that age should have any real bearing on the type of music anyone should attempt, but chances are anyone following Robbie Robertson’s career never thought, “I bet he’d sound amazing with some trip-hop beats behind him.”

Yet with Contact From The Underworld Of Redboy, that’s more or less what he did. Following along from the field experiments of Music For The Native Americans, Robbie continued exploring elements of music by the indigenous peoples of Canada, and collaborated with hip programmers Howie B. and Marius de Vries. The result is jarring, and not exactly cohesive.

While some of the tracks are fine without his vocals (still an acquired taste), when he does put himself at the forefront of the mix, we wish the extra dressing could be stripped away for the songs to breathe. “The Code Of Handsome Lake” and “Unbound” follow closest to the first two solo albums. The centerpiece of the album is arguably “Sacrifice”, which gives voice to convicted activist Leonard Peltier. Somehow the message is diluted by the samples from “One Step Beyond” on “Take Your Partner By The Hand”.

As a Robbie album, it fails. As a world fusion album, we’re not the ones to judge.

Robbie Robertson Contact From The Underworld Of Redboy (1998)—2

Robbie Robertson 3: Music For The Native Americans

While he never overtly covered it in the songs he wrote, Robbie Robertson’s family legacy includes ancestry of Mohawk origin. Having already made a name for himself as a musical curator for films, he was a wise choice to perform that task for a television documentary called The Native Americans. On the accompanying soundtrack album, he surrounded himself with other colleagues of First Founders heritage—including Rita Coolidge and Douglas Spotted Eagle, to name two of higher-profile musicians—to make up a collective dubbed the Red Road Ensemble.

The music is best when instrumental, using modern programming techniques and textures to mix with authentic instruments. Vocals sung in other languages and dialects become part of the aural picture when picked up by ears that only understand English. In fact, Robbie’s own vocal selections, while good, bring it back to being a solo album, but not at a sacrifice of the overall mood.

Being even less typical a release than his previous solo albums, Music For The Native Americans wasn’t a massive hit, and even the documentary itself doesn’t exactly appear to be a momentous viewing event (which is too bad, because it sounds fascinating). The album itself is tough to find today outside of used bins, but is available for streaming and download, and worth a listen.

Robbie Robertson & The Red Road Ensemble Music For The Native Americans (1994)—3

Robbie Robertson 2: Storyville

While his first solo album was an immediate hit, it wasn’t recorded overnight, and it took Robbie Robertson another four years to complete a follow-up. Robbie Robertson set the bar pretty high, and he wasn’t working with Daniel Lanois this time around. Storyville shares none of its predecessor’s big-name guests, save Rick Danko and Garth Hudson, but boasts a bunch of other well-known singers, Jerry Marotta (familiar from Peter Gabriel) on some of the drums, and four different horn sections. Naturally, an album inspired by New Orleans demands the presence of various Neville Brothers and Meters, but oddly, there’s no Dr. John.

“Night Parade” sets up the tone of the album, sounding enough like the one before but with some Nola touches. On “Hold Back The Dawn” it’s clear that Robbie has enough confidence in his own voice, but it’s always nice to hear Rick in the mix. The funk picks up for “Go Back To Your Woods”, written with Bruce Hornsby but not overly indicative of his touch. A couple of bona fide Indian chiefs provide something of a closing commentary, to which Robbie’s heritage propels him to moan along. “Soap Box Preacher” is a duet with Neil Young, of all people, Neil softly singing his lines while Robbie rasps his. The mystery returns on “Day Of Reckoning (Burnin’ For You)”, written with the other guy from David + David. (You’re forgiven for punctuating any of the pauses with “Wait—did you hear that?”)

Ivan Neville co-wrote the seductive “What About Now” and helps sing it too, along with dad Aaron, making it all sound almost romantic. “Shake This Town” is an excuse for another parade of sorts, but the highlight for some of us is “Breakin’ The Rules”, Robbie’s version of a Blue Nile heartbreaker, complete with that band performing and Paul Buchanan singing. “Resurrection” sounds mostly like similarly paced songs on the album, but the chorus chord out of left field is a good touch. “Sign Of The Rainbow” seems like a personal song; it builds slowly, gains strength from the drums and vocals, and fades away.

Taken all together, Storyville sounds like a congruous second chapter, even if the stories he’s trying to tell don’t always ring. It’s a long album, too, so some shuffling is required to fit with its brother on a Maxell for convenient looping. (Years later they were paired in an expanded package, this album regaining its lost title track, wisely left off the album the first time, and the moody B-side “The Far, Lonely Cry Of Trains”, which is good until he starts singing.)

Robbie Robertson Storyville (1991)—3

Robbie Robertson 1: Robbie Robertson

For the first few years after he left The Band and seeing himself on the big screen, Robbie Robertson plunged whole-heartedly into the world of cinema. While he failed to become a matinee idol, his friendship with Martin Scorsese meant he was tapped to organize the music for films like Raging Bull, The Color Of Money and King Of Comedy, featuring Van Morrison’s excellent delivery of “Wonderful Remark”. His former Band-mates, save Levon, often helped with these recordings, so hearing Rick and Richard’s voices plus Garth’s keyboards made them special. (“The Best Of Everything”, from Tom Petty’s Southern Accents, was another notable production in this period.)

Robbie wouldn’t have been any band’s choice for a lead vocalist, so the idea of a solo album on which he sang all the songs raised eyebrows everywhere. But in a masterstroke of timing, he hooked up with Daniel Lanois, and his eponymous solo debut arrived in the wake of the multiplatinum success of Peter Gabriel’s So and U2’s The Joshua Tree. Robbie Robertson also tapped most of the musicians—and the two singers—involved with both albums, making the listening experience familiar.

“Fallen Angel” burbles up slowly, a lovely tribute to he recently departed Richard Manuel. Peter Gabriel sings the harmony parts on the chorus that Richard himself might have sung had he lived to do so. The first single was “Showdown At Big Sky”, with all-star contributions only on the level of the BoDeans, but enough of an apocalyptic echo of “Red Rain” to sound great on the radio. “Broken Arrow” could’ve been another Richard song, and would soon be covered by Rod Stewart. But a lot of kids likely bought the album on the basis of “Sweet Fire Of Love”, wherein Robbie trades vocal lines with Bono over a U2 backing.

One track that wore out its novelty pretty quickly was “American Roulette”, which references the demises of James Dean, Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe with clumsy metaphors and references. “Somewhere Down The Crazy River” is also an acquired taste, with its overly dramatic narration, counterpoints from Sammy BoDean, and a video in which Robbie got to paw Maria McKee. “Hell’s Half Acre” is lyrically slight but a good rocker, while the noir-storytelling “Sonny Got Caught In The Moonlight” is redeemed by Rick Danko. And U2 returns to help him bang out “Testimony” with a Gil Evans horn section for a rousing conclusion.

As we’ve seen and heard too many times, an all-star cast doesn’t always guarantee quality, but somehow Robbie’s ragged voice matched the lyrics he certainly wrote himself without dispute, and the swampy production on Robbie Robertson still sounds fitting all this time later. Back then, it seemed like quite a comeback. (A later repackage added two tracks—his own remake of “Christmas Must Be Tonight” for the Scrooged soundtrack and an overly gospel remix of “Testimony”.)

Robbie Robertson Robbie Robertson (1987)—4