Vinyl Hour!

Cahoots - Capitol Records, 1971

"You can walk on the water, drown in the sand
You can fly off a mountaintop if anybody can
Run away, run away, it's the restless age
Look away, look away, you can turn the page"
—from Life is a Carnival, by Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, and Levon Helm

Looser, darker, and less focussed than the Band’s first three classics, Cahoots has steadily grown in stature over the years, with many listeners now embracing it as a strange, autumnal record rich in atmosphere and outstanding musicianship. Through story songs and deep cuts, the Band explores themes of fame, fading traditions, lost identities, and disillusionment with a depth and mood unlike anything else in their catalogue.

Robbie Robertson’s writing grows even more literary and cinematic on Cahoots, with songs like Last of the Blacksmiths and Shoot Out in Chinatown unfolding like vivid short stories or historical sketches.

There’s the classic opener and live staple Life Is a Carnival, elevated by Allen Toussaint’s horn arrangements. The New Orleans brass gives the song its swagger, mystery, and carnival pulse—one of the most distinctive and exhilarating sounds in the Band’s catalogue.

Levon Helm makes the vocal of Dylan’s When I Paint My Masterpiece entirely his own, singing like a weary traveler looking back on a lifetime of hard roads, missed chances, and half-fulfilled dreams.

Closing side one, what’s more fun than a whiskey-soaked Van Morrison and Richard Manuel trying to outdo each other vocally on 4% Pantomime? The performance is loose, chaotic, and utterly alive—two soulful singers laughing, shouting, and pushing each other toward glorious excess.

Side two is loaded with deep cuts, my favourite being the much-underrated, gospel-tinged The River Hymn, with its beautiful melody, spiritual ache, and sense of weary reflection—the Band sounding as if they’re drifting slowly downriver at dusk.

I didn’t pick this album up until fairly recently, and how wonderful it was to discover more songs from what already felt like old friends, even musical family. Robbie Robertson stands as one of the finest songwriters Canada—and arguably the world—has produced, and the Band play with a level of musicianship and organic chemistry that remains almost unmatched.

It’s a record that deepens that sense of familiarity rather than repeating it—like returning to a place you thought you knew and finding whole new rooms inside it.

Do we underestimate Cahoots because it doesn’t announce itself like its predecessors, or because it asks us to listen a little differently?

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