the_last_waltz raze the night of our last-minute, poorly promoted, sparsely attended gig at a dance club no one danced at anymore, chad had the film projected on one of the walls before we played. i don't think anyone was listening when dr. john sang "such a night". so much swagger and soul in the man. the ring finger of his fretting hand almost severed in jackson, mississippi when he stepped in to stop a motel manager from pistol whipping the lead singer of the band he had then. voice like a smirk shot through with a shrug. sweet confusion under the moonlight. you know what still kills me about the whole thing? richard manuel. here's the heart and soul of your first few albums. and he's nothing more than a footnote. a glorified extra in his own movie. you get a whole lot of robbie robertson pretending to sing into his muted microphone, though. give me richard at or near his worst over anyone at their best almost any day. even drunk. impossible falsetto ground down to a hoarse croak. bearded and beautiful and broken. give me "in a station" and "lonesome suzie". give me those stuttering drums on "rag mama rag". give me "chest_fever". give me grand marnier and cocaine. stolen records and lost years. give me the belt looped around his neck so that i might cut him loose and love him back to life. 240929 what's it to you? who go blather from