Classic Rock - Robert Plant - USA (2019-12)

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obbie Robertson is trying to write his
second volume of autobiography,
but he’s not finding it easy. “I’m
about halfway in, give or take,” he
says. “I’ve got my head down, but I’ve
got a lot of other stuff going on. I just haven’t been
able to do that isolation thing with it yet, finding
that quiet room where I can go and shut off the
outside world.”
Given his current workload, his predicament is
understandable. First off, there’s the business of
promoting Sinematic, his latest solo album. It’s
a record that feels deeply personal and bracingly
political in places, shot through with rich imagery
and delivered in Robertson’s
trademark leathery growl. He’s
also been busy with the
soundtrack to The Irishman (the
new gangster epic directed by
his friend Martin Scorsese),
as well as helping prepare
a 50th-anniversary edition of
The Band’s self-titled classic
second album. Then there’s Once
Were Brothers: Robbie Robertson And The Band,
a documentary based on his 2016 memoir,
Testimony. All of these activities tend to inform
one another, so what emerges is a portrait of
Robertson’s creative life using different angles
and multiple timelines.
And what a life it’s been. He was born on July 5,


  1. Raised in Toronto, Canada, Robertson began
    playing in bands in his early teens. The big break
    came in 1960, when rockabilly singer Ronnie
    Hawkins hired him for his backing band The
    Hawks, who included drummer Levon Helm.
    Alongside Richard Manuel, Rick Danko and Garth
    Hudson, The Hawks joined Bob Dylan on his
    infamous electric tour of 1966, before settling in at


Woodstock in upstate New York to record Dylan’s
The Basement Tapes.
Post-Dylan, The Hawks morphed into The Band
and Robertson became their chief songwriter.
Their inspired synthesis of R&B, gospel, country
and blues redefined the parameters of roots-rock
on timeless albums such as Music From Big Pink,
The Band and Stage Fright, before the original
incarnation – beset by the drug addictions that
would lead to a schism in their relationships – bade
farewell with The Last Waltz in 1976.
By the time his former bandmates reconvened in
the early 80s, Robertson had already moved into
production and Hollywood film soundtracks, and

would continue as a solo artist. And the 76-year-
old clearly is still going strong.

How did Sinematic take shape amid your various
other projects?
I was just in this mode, very much spurred on by
everything that I was working on. And it was
highly unusual for me to feel comfortable with
just throwing everything in the soup. It’s partly to
do with the story of The Irishman and the music I’m
doing for the movie. The last track on Sinematic is
Remembrance, which is used for the end titles. The
movie has violent subject matter, so there were
places in the songwriting where I went to that
same place: Shanghai Blues, the beginning of Street

Serenade and I Hear You Paint Houses, which I do with
Van Morrison. At the same time, we were working
on the documentary about The Band and also
putting together the fiftieth anniversary of The
Band album. And I’m writing volume two of
my memoirs, so all those things spilled into it.
I thought: “Let’s just celebrate life and let
everything be a part of it.” I really enjoyed
embracing everything - all is one and one is all.

Were certain songs difficult to write? Once Were
Brothers, for example, addresses the sometimes
fraught relationships within The Band.
The fact that I’ve lost three of my brothers [from
The Band] is devastating. And of
course it’s sad. I needed to write
this to help myself deal with
that mourning. The fact that
the song turned out the way
that it did made us want to call
the documentary Once Were
Brothers. So it’s digging deep.
But that’s part of really getting
inside that place you want to
go to when writing songs.

Dead End Kid seems very autobiographical. The
song describes an attitude you were often faced with
while growing up in Toronto: ‘They said you’ll
never be nothin.’ When it came to making
a career from music, how much of an incentive has
that been over the years?
That kind of stuff can work two ways. I was a kid
going: “My God, one of these days I want to write
music and go out into the world. I want to do this
and change that.” I had all of these big dreams, and
I think some people felt challenged by that. People
would say to me: “You’re just a dreamer. Everyone
talks about this stuff, but those kinds of things

Few musicians called a ‘legend’ really deserve the accolade. Even if being chief architect of
The Band was all he’d ever done, singer-songwriter Robbie Robertson is one who does.
Words: Rob Hughes

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“As a kid I had all of these


big dreams, and I think some


people felt challenged by that.”


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