como que no se, hoy es mi cumple, en la radio me pasan la de leon russell y me encontre esto, que podria ser un regalo para mi, no?
porque este chabon es uno de mis mas queridos fantasmitas.

"Cutthroat!" It's an 8-ball variation, but it's also the opening line of Martin Scorsese's masterwork of rock n' roll propaganda The Last Waltz. It is barked by Rick Danko, festooned in flannel, hair in his eyes, cigarette at his lip, in the back room of God's rock n' roll bar. Here, stories are told about blind fiddle players, bottles are thrown from disgruntled listeners, and loaves of bread are stolen from shopkeepers in the cold Canadian winter, just enough to keep ya going 'til you get to the next down and keep a-rockin' there. He was the wise-crackin' kid of rock n' roll--he could have easily been a failure and he knew it. He looked good in scummy clothes and bounced around like a deadhead when he played bass. He sometimes looked and sounded like a duck. He was a cornerstone of rock n' roll.Rick Danko had his schtick down pat. He was an unashamed singer, knowing the only way to make his point was just to be true. He was cool and he lived the life so it worked. He sang falsetto harmonies with a daring spirit. And he sang leads ("Crazy Chester followed me and he caught me in the fog . . .") like he was just a guy next to you. Rick Danko, the thumping bottom to The Band, the creators of roots rock, country rock, civil war rock, whatever you want to call it, has died after battling a heart condition and drug addiction.I had the good fortune to see Danko at the Bottom Line in New York recently. He played "his" songs (almost all Band songs were written by Robbie Robertson--many had multiple lead vocalists) like "It Makes No Difference," "Endless Highway," "When You Awake," "Stage Fright," even Dylan's "I Shall Be Released." He played old mountain tunes and songs about Andersonville and a few new songs that sounded like old songs. He'd gotten fat, and seemed truly touched that anyone would spend over an hour just listening to him sing and play. He went to the bar after the set, and as I exited I touched him on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for comin' Rick." He spun and looked me right in the eye, grabbed my hand and said, "No, thank you, man!" And he smiled and looked right at me as if we knew each other. And of course we did. I'd studied and dreamt about his career during those long rock n' roll nights you have as a kid, reading back issues of Rolling Stone, staring at album covers. If you're ever going to fantasize about being somebody, it should be someone like Rick Danko. And he knew me . . . there've been rock audiences in his life since he was 15.Do you know the basic highlights of Danko's life? Here's the real short version. A kid in Ontario who listened to black music finds a few like-minded guys, one a little more spooky and journeyman-like who thinks he lives in the 1860s. They play in bars, some nights on fire, other nights booed. They back up Ronnie Hawkins and rowdily cross and recross North America, drinking, carousing, playing rock music in dumps, discovering the myth. Eventually word gets to Bob Dylan that they may be a good backing band for his "going electric." They play Europe, creating hard rock, classic rock, whatever you want to call it. They are hideously mocked for creating an art no one understands. They return to Woodstock, New York and hide out for a while, recording "The Basement Tapes," exploring a universe of American song and artistry. From it, the backup band, hereinafter referred to as The Band, release "Music From Big Pink." It is the heady days of trippy psychedelia and guitar solos, and The Band rejects it. This album rocks hard, but is all about harmonies, multiple vocalists, and winsome lyrics about frontiers, emotional and geographical. It is a new art form, followed up by even greater albums well on into the '70s. They play Woodstock, they tour with Dylan in '74, they record "Acadian Driftwood" on the "Northern Lights, Southern Cross" album, which makes me cry like a woman.The beauty of The Band is having five musicians who all play to their strengths. Danko's emotive harmonies, practically a constant, are a harrowing cry of true soul. He cracks just enough to let you now he means it. If Richard Manuel was the deep, blue voice of The Band, Danko was wildly crying, either through sweet harmonies or his madly cadenced leads. But don't misunderstand: the Band lays it on thick. They sometimes dressed like extras from Heaven's Gate, and the lyrics, say about sweet Molly living in French Canada, pregnant with a husband off to war, could get a little schmaltzik. But it was beautiful music, and it always rocked hard. You could never misplace a Band song. Anyone versed in rock can recognize their sound in one note, which may just be the greatest compliment to musicians

thanks Jordan Hoffman