Ever so self-effacingly, Garth Hudson breathed history into songs. At his magisterial Lowrey organ, he summoned Bach, hymns, the gospel church or a circus calliope. At the piano, he bounced through ragtime chords and splashed out filigrees of honky-tonk or jazz. On accordion, he could invoke a Cajun fais-do-do, a medicine show, a polka or the skirl of a bagpipe. On saxophones, he built cozy studio horn sections and occasionally stepped forward for a plaintive solo. And as his equipment choices expanded, he deployed synthesizers and electric keyboards as scenic backdrops, brass bands and wry commentary.
Hudson, the last surviving original member of the Band, died on Tuesday at 87. Here, in chronological order, are 11 tracks — all but one by the Band — that touch on the breadth of his music.
Bob Dylan: ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ (1966)
Bob Dylan’s 1966 tour of England, backed by Hudson and other members of what would become the Band, was famously a trial by fire, where Dylan’s new electric material faced boos along with applause. In hindsight the music was invincible: defiant, purposeful, rightfully confident in its breakthroughs. Hudson buttressed Al Kooper’s original organ part into a chordal fortress, part of an incendiary performance that surges to peak after peak.
‘Yazoo Street Scandal’ (1967)
From the casually brilliant sessions that came to be known as the Basement Tapes, “Yazoo Street Scandal” is all stops and starts: a sputtering beat, a hopscotching bass line, Levon Helms’s shouted vocals. It’s subtly threaded together by Hudson’s understated organ, which sustains tones in the background or chortles between the lines.
‘This Wheel’s on Fire’ (1968)
The buzzing, shivering notes that open “This Wheel’s on Fire,” and the ominous repeating chords at the end of each chorus, come from Hudson’s clavinet — a glimmer of psychedelic experimentation tucked behind the Band’s rootsy demeanor.
‘Rag Mama Rag’ (1969)
Hudson’s piano simply romps all the way through “Rag Mama Rag,” touching down in two-fisted stride and ragtime — but also, at the end, hinting at some of the modern-jazz tangents he explored at the Band’s concerts.
‘Up on Cripple Creek’ (1969)
The bullfrog-like syncopations that tease and cackle as Levon Helm sings the verses are from Hudson’s clavinet. He unfurls organ lines like bunting atop the choruses, but the cackling cheerfully persists.
‘The Unfaithful Servant’ (1969)
In this sparse, stately song about connection and betrayal, Hudson’s saxophones and the producer John Simon’s horn arrive just as Rick Danko sings, “I can hear the whistle blowin’.” They linger, calm and laconic, to underline and reply to the lyrics. At the end, Hudson’s soprano sax poses a final, poignant question.
‘The Genetic Method’ and ‘Chest Fever’ (1971)
At the Band’s concerts, Hudson’s keyboard introduction to “Chest Fever” expanded into an improvisatory showcase that got its own title: “The Genetic Method.” This version, from December 1971 in New York City, wanders amid Celtic melodies, quasi-Baroque counterpoint, hymns, hoedowns, chromatic high jinks and “Auld Lang Syne” on the way to the hefty riff of “Chest Fever,” where Hudson’s organ heaves and churns.
‘Stage Fright’ (1970)
Hudson’s ghostly keyboard obbligatos float above Danko’s lead vocals throughout “Stage Fright,” contributing almost subliminally to the song’s anxious tone. His upfront solo is tentative, exultant and then tense again in a brief few bars.
‘When I Paint My Masterpiece’ (1971)
Bob Dylan lent the Band this droll song for their album “Cahoots.” Hudson’s accordion seems to come strolling in from a sidewalk serenade to meet Helms’s amused, exasperated vocal, joshing him along with countermelodies, trills and wheezily encouraging chords.
‘It Makes No Difference’ (1975)
An anthem of desperate loneliness, “It Makes No Difference” ends with no more words to sing. Instead, there’s an instrumental dialogue between Robbie Robertson’s guitar, twanging and moaning the blues, and Hudson’s saxophone, reaching for a consoling melody.