Magic man of the Band, Garth Hudson, died this week, age 87. As his Band mate Robbie Robertson once said, “He could’ve been with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra or with Miles Davis, but he was with us.”
You probably know this, but: A combination of things made the Band unique, but Hudson sprinkled fairy dust over everything on top. His organ playing sounded like no one else: part of that was his technique, part of that was his “hot-rodded” Lowrey organ, as opposed to the Hammond or Wurlitzers that were much more common in rock music. That’s also him playing saxophone on “It Makes No Difference,” and barrelhouse piano on “Rag Mama Rag.”
And of course, he pioneered the use of the clavinet as a funk instrument, before Stevie Wonder did, on “Up on Cripple Creek.” That’s explored in the opening moments of this clip from VH1’s Classic Albums:
(Playlist for paid subscribers is below)
Garth Hudson died on January 21, peacefully, in a nursing home near Woodstock, N.Y. His wife and musical partner of 43 years, Maud, died in 2022. Brad Wheeler’s Globe and Mail obit is here.
He was a delightfully odd man, almost an archetype of a wizard who only speaks and functions through music: “It’s nice when everything’s a mystery.”
The maestro miraculously avoided the dark alcoholism and drug use of his Band mates. It’s unlikely he was even tempted: Garth Hudson already existed on another plane of existence—he didn’t need help getting there.
Hudson had narcolepsy. I don’t want to say he “suffered” from narcolepsy. Once, when asked why he was always drifting off to sleep, he responded with a glimmer in his eye: “Have you never heard of dreams?”1
Colleague Brian D. Johnson wrote an excellent profile of this dream-like, David Lynch-ian character for Maclean’s in 2002, with this amazing lede: “It's close to dawn when Garth Hudson shows me the gun.”
Because Canada is a small town, my father went to Medway High School a few years behind Hudson in London, Ontario. There, a teenage Hudson’s recording of “O Canada” was played over the P.A. system every morning. That town’s Free Press talks about Hudson’s detailed gratitude for people of his formative years.
Full disclosure: I play piano, organ and saxophone. So Garth Hudson couldn’t help but be a hero to me. I also play accordion. He was one of the only accordionists in rock’n’roll history, long before the Pogues, Los Lobos and others in the ’80s weren’t afraid to be seen wielding one. That, of course, makes him even cooler:
My Have Not Been the Same co-author Jason Schneider, who wrote about the Band in his essential book Whispering Pines, profiled Hudson in 2002 for the Globe and Mail and in a Q&A for Exclaim! in 2010. He has some great stories of getting to know Hudson, which I hope he’ll publish sooner than later.
Until this week I’d never seen the Band playing the Ed Sullivan show; I’ve time-stamped the moment when Hudson gets some delightful camera time:
Andrea Warner at CBC collects some of Hudson’s most memorable moments, including this Rolling Stone clip in which Hudson visits Big Pink for the first time since 1969:
One of the weirder moments of Hudson’s career (which undoubtedly contained many fantastical tales) was joining Roger Waters on stage in front of the former Berlin Wall, shortly after its fall. There, among other duties, he and Sinead O’Connor did their best with “Mother.” That’s one unexpected combo. I’m not remotely a fan of The Wall, but it’s a treat to see the two of them here in a truly bizarre setting (with Levon Helm and Rick Danko on backing vocals):
The Band’s fan site has an extensive discography here.
Finally, a piece of music I hope is played at his funeral, featuring Hudson on accordion and his wife Maud on vocals:
For paid subscribers only, below is a playlist of Garth Hudson’s work through the years, with only the bare minimum of Band and next to no Bob Dylan, assembled to showcase Garth’s finest moments. These are mostly deeper cuts, so dig in!
Featuring Marianne Faithfull, Neko Case, Martha Wainwright, Emmylou Harris, Doug Paisley, the Sadies, Mary Margaret O’Hara and more:
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to That Night in Toronto to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.