Feast

If you stick around for the credits on Davis Guggenheim’s wonderful documentary, It Might Get Loud, you will hear the second best version of arguably the best campfire song there is.

I’m referring, of course, to the song, “The Weight,” by The Band.

In this remarkable second best version you will hear three generations of virtuoso guitar players — Jimmy Page, The Edge and Jack White perform the song.

Whenever I hear “The Weight,” it makes me feel warm, nostalgic and a combination of melancholy and hopeful.

In a word, it makes me feel all the feels of Thanksgiving.

I think about this song because I first heard it on Thanksgiving from a movie that takes place during Thanksgiving, Martin Scorsese’s The Last Waltz.

The Last Waltz tells the story of the music group, The Band, as a concert unfolds at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco on a Thanksgiving night in 1976.

It is in this movie in which you will hear the best version of “The Weight,” performed by The Band and their supremely talented and soulful friends, The Staples.

I listen to this album every Thanksgiving.

It’s a feast for the ears.

And it’s like having old friends and family come around and join you for your Thanksgiving feast.

The Band is at the table.

And there’s the greatest assortment of Thanksgiving foods you can imagine. Turkey and all the trimmings. Corn pie. That green bean dish with the cream and the crinkly-fried onions. Mashed potatoes and gravy…you name it. There’s also plenty of bottles of Pinot Noir, Beaujolais and even a Riesling or two.

The first guest to arrive is uncle Ronnie Hawkins. He’s right on time. He shows up right before your cousins do; namely, Dr John, Muddy Waters, Paul Butterfield and Eric Clapton. (Cousin Eric is that relative who shows up with the controversial views who then proceeds to get into an argument with damn-near everyone and then leaves before the pumpkin pie and apple crumble make their way to the table).

Fortunately your cool cousins from Canada are here to keep things well, cool. Their names are Neil Young and Joni Mitchell.

By the way, no one quite knows who is related to uncle Neil Diamond but he’s at the table for a while, too.

About midway through the meal there’s a loud commotion coming from outside. And then lo and behold, uncle Van Morrison bursts through the door and brings the whole damn house down. (This is apparently his third Thanksgiving celebration of the night as he shows up pretty well-sauced!)

Soon enough dessert and coffee are on the table and with offerings of Drambuie and Sambuca wafting in the air, three of your coolest cousins finally show up. Their names are Bob Dylan, Ringo and Ronnie Wood.

With dishes all over the table and the candles burning but still shedding warm light, the great songs and singing go on long into the night, crescendoing with auntie Emmy Lou Harris.

And then, with the harvest moon glowing in the dark sky and the clock approaching midnight, you stumble into the living room to find The Staples who want to close the night with something of a prayer: the finest rendition of the song, “The Weight.”

“Take a load off, Fanny

Take a load for free

Take a load off, Fanny

And (and, and) you put the load right on me”

I share Thanksgiving with all of these magnificent artists. And I am grateful for all of the music and magic they have brought to me over the years. And all of the influences and other artists they have opened my ears and heart to.

Thanksgiving isn’t a religious holiday. But when I listen to The Last Waltz, each year as I do, Thanksgiving becomes spiritual.

So now I share this feast with you.

Thank you for being here today and every day you read my stuff.

I’m grateful.

Image: Midjourney