Sadly overlooked upon its release in 1993, Jericho represented a "comeback" for the Band. Following the suicide of singer/piano player Richard Manuel in 1986, coupled with the absence of guitarist/principal songwriter Robbie Robertson, many thought any attempt at recreating the glorious, hand-wrought sound of the Band could only result in failure. True, without the songwriting contributions of Robertson, the album lacks the unique narrative voice behind the best of the Band's material. However, with a stellar rendition of a Dylan tune, as well as one by Springsteen, Jericho is worthy of comparisons with the Band's last outstanding studio album, 1975's Northern Lights, Southern Cross.
Penned by lead guitarist Jim Weider, the album leads off with Remedy, a mid-tempo groove featuring some good and greasy horns, Levon Helm sings with all the Southern swagger of the Band's best country-fried rock and roll.
Next is Dylan's Blind Willie McTell, the stand-out track on the album. The Band have taken this tune, branded it, and made it their own. Sorry Bob, but I'll stand on your coffee table in my dirty boots and declare that fact. *
With its use of historical detail, the Caves of Jericho, a dirge-like account of a Kentucky mining disaster, recalls some of the narrative songs from Northern Lights, Southern Cross.
Atlantic City, from Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska, once again shows the Band's fine interpretive skills. This song is the lone remainder from an aborted recording project, circa 1990. This one was produced by Rob Hyman and Eric Bazilian of the Hooters fame (or infamy, depending on your point of view).
Too Soon Gone, a plaintive ballad dedicated to the late Richard Manuel, is sung with aching vulnerability by Rick Danko.
Country Boy, a Ray Charles tune, features Richard Manuel from a live performance posthumously resurrected and later embellished by Garth Hudson and company.
Apart from the dreadful Amazon, River of Dreams, a maudlin plea for the ecology entirely out of place among the Band's rough-hewn and ragged musical Americana, the remainder of the tracks are solid, blues-based exercises in the kind of smoky barroom roots-rock the Band, as the Hawks, perfected some thirty years before.
Though 1976's the Last Waltz represented the end of Robbie Robertson's association with the Band, the others sought to prove there was more good music left in the tank. Though it took seventeen years to deliver, much more good music does indeed reside within the tracks of Jericho.
*With apologies to Steve Earle for the twist on his coffee table quote from an interview in Harp magazine.