The Pre-'Basement Tapes' B-Side That Helped Define the Band
This was before Bob Dylan, before Big Pink, before fame and misfortune.
The Basement Tapes are typically seen as the big-bang moment when the Band actually became the Band. But that’s not the beginning of their story. Neither is their time as Bob Dylan’s backing group. They originally came together as sidemen for the throwback Canada-based rockabilly star Ronnie Hawkins from Levon Helm’s native Arkansas, before making tentative attempts to step out on their own.
This raw studio era found the group, principally known then as Levon and the Hawks, trying to establish some sort of career foundation. They produced a handful of tracks, beginning with “Uh-Uh-Uh” and “Leave Me Alone,” both of which were released as the Canadian Squires on Ware Records/Apex. The Band also recorded “The Stones I Throw,” “Go Go Liza Jane” and “He Don’t Love You (And He’ll Break Your Heart),” all of which saw release via Atco.
Everyone was still melding their influences, some of which were simply a function of where they grew up: Rick Danko was from rural Norfolk County in Ontario and Robbie Robertson from Toronto, both closer to New York. Garth Hudson came from Windsor while Richard Manuel was a native of Stratford, both of which are between Michigan and Ohio.
“The basics of it included rockabilly, and that gradually changed when Robbie came in the group,” Hudson told me. “Then you start to hear more of the Delta guitar players, like B.B. King. Robbie was instrumental in changing us from rockabilly to rock blues. Richard and I got our education from Alan Freed, because we were closer to Cleveland. Over there in the east, where Rick and Robbie came from, they picked up ‘The Hound’ from Buffalo. We were tutored by different radio announcers.”
Robertson later admitted that even their small early studio triumphs were more happenstance than anything. They’d cut several songs in an afternoon, trying to coax a record deal. Still, a rough outline was emerging. “The Stones I Throw,” an embryonic attempt at topical songwriting from Robertson, almost sounded like a very rough draft from Music From Big Pink – but “He Don’t Love You (And He’ll Break Your Heart)” better illustrated the Band’s rough everyday approach back then: R&B played a too-often overlooked role in the Band’s core sound, long before their debut helped define a new kind of roots music.
Levon and the Hawks had two chances to gain a measure of wider notice with “He Don’t Love You,” after the song backed “The Stones I Throw” in 1965 and then a rush-job release of “Go Go Liza Jane” in 1968, when Atco was trying to capitalize on the since-renamed Band’s post-Music From Big Pink fame.
“The Stones I Throw” managed to get to No. 22 on a local Toronto song chart this month in 1965 but otherwise sank like, well, a stone. Garth Hudson’s ghostly organ pushes the Band well away from their original R&B-fueled approach, but Richard Manuel’s reliably impassioned vocal doesn’t have quite enough to work with.
Meanwhile, Levon and the Hawks’ update of the traditional “Go Go Liza Jane” is lesser still. The only remake of the bunch (though wrongly credited on the single as a Robertson original), it’s more energetic than revelatory. Danko, Helm and Manuel’s voices brilliantly intertwine, but they’re still in search of the rustic poetry of the Band.
That leaves “He Don’t Love You (And He’ll Break Your Heart),” their perennial ’60s-era bridesmaid. Principal vocalist Manuel is in his element here, catching a furious groove even as the rest of the Band yelp and crow. A highlight comes when this b-side swerves into a guttural, manic rhythm. Manuel is so moved that he barks, “Make you cry!” (Whether he’s talking about the hound-dog protagonist or that surprising new cadence remains unclear.)
Robertson’s lyrics can’t yet achieve the narrative heft of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” or “Acadian Driftwood,” but “He Don’t Love You (And He’ll Break Your Heart)” remains the best vehicle among these early sides. This is the group as they were before Bob Dylan, before Big Pink, before fame and misfortune: Raw and unkempt, playing and singing with unbridled danger, but already hinting at something much deeper.
Amazon bestselling rock-band biographer Nick DeRiso’s upcoming book is ‘Forever Young: How the Band and Bob Dylan Made the Only ’60s Music That Still Matters.’ Due in Spring 2025. www.nickderiso.com.