My favorite annual holiday tradition is watching The Last Waltz during the Thanksgiving season. Martin Scorsese’s 1978 concert film is so ingrained in my late November routine that I have come to view the musicians as family members. A motley crew of lovable uncles resplendent in snappy suits and majestic hats. That’s my Last Waltz experience.

Like all great films, there is nothing you would possibly change about The Last Waltz. Even its apparent faults feel like strengths. Neil Young’s digitally removed cocaine booger? Beautiful! Eric Clapton’s broken guitar strap? Elegant! Van Morrison’s satin purple back side? A work of art!

However, I am going to attempt the impossible anyway. Consider it a thought experiment: What if you could invite more musicians to The Band’s final concert at Winterland in San Francisco in 1976? It’s this very thought experiment that I am executing in this column. Before you watch The Last Waltz this year, let’s ponder an alternate-dimension version of The Last Waltz. After all, it makes no difference, right? Let’s go up on cripple creek to a different timeline! We shall be released from current reality!

Here are 20 artists who should have been invited to The Last Waltz.

20. Todd Rundgren

The bar for clearance on this list is what I’ll call “The Neil Diamond ‘Mendoza’ Line.” By which I mean this: Does this person make more or less sense than Neil Diamond appearing at The Last Waltz? If you’ll recall, Robbie Robertson insisted on including Neil — who otherwise had zero connection to the other performers on the bill — because he represented the classic Tin Pan Alley songwriting tradition. And Robbie felt that was part of The Band’s musical tapestry. At least that was the official justification, which didn’t convince people like Levon Helm. (“Why don’t we just get Doc Pomus?” was his reply.) The actual reason was likely related to Robbie producing Neil’s album Beautiful Noise, which came out five months before The Last Waltz concert in June 1976. (Garth Hudson also plays organ on the record.) The song Neil performed at TLW, “Dry Your Eyes,” was also co-written by Robertson, who no doubt appreciated those sweet Diamond-encrusted royalties upon the release of the album and film.

(To be clear: I am not saying Neil Diamond shouldn’t be in The Last Waltz. Like all right-thinking Americans I greatly enjoy Hot August Night and Neil’s fit at The Last Waltz — red shirt, power blue suit, tinted shades — is objectively suave and electric.)

At first glance, Todd Rundgren might make even less sense that Neil Diamond. In the late seventies, he was recording and touring a lot with his band Utopia, and he was about to put out his 1977 prog-rock opus Ra supported by an elaborate stage show centered on a 22-foot-tall pyramid and golden sphinx. Not exactly “rootsy” music.

Todd, however, had two important connections to The Band: 1) He was the recording engineer and sort-of producer for their third album, 1970’s Stage Fright; 2) He recorded a faithful cover of the mid-sixties Bob Dylan deep cut “Most Likely You Go Your Way And I’ll Go Mine” for his appropriately titled 1976 LP, Faithful.

The setlist writes itself: Todd and The Band would have killed that one at The Last Waltz, with or without the 22-foot-tall pyramid.

19. Roger Waters

Forget what I said about “The Neil Diamond ‘Mendoza’ Line.” I’m suspending that rule for this entry. Roger Waters obviously makes no sense at The Last Waltz, particularly the circa-1976, pre-Animals Waters marinating in extreme misanthropy and even more extreme Dark Side Of The Moon-related riches. Roger Waters in this era makes Van Morrison look like Bobby McFerrin.

NEVERTHELESS, there is a different era of Roger Waters who executed the least likely reunion of Last Waltz luminaries. I refer to the 1990 concert album The Wall – Live In Berlin, which is remembered for the version of “Comfortably Numb” featuring Van Morrison and (if you listen very closely) Levon Helm and Rick Danko. This rendition was made famous by Martin Scorsese after he put it in The Departed, and then subsequently used again (via Christopher Moltisanti’s CD copy The Departed soundtrack) in a Sopranos episode.

I understand that to justify this entry I am essentially asking to invite a version of Roger Waters who exists 14 years after the concert takes place. But at least we’re only at No. 19. I promise my logic will be more, ahem, logical moving forward.

18. Allen Toussaint

You know you’re talking to a Band snob when you bring up The Last Waltz and the person scoffs and says snottily, “Yeah, but Rock Of Ages is better.” This person isn’t necessarily wrong, by the way. The 1972 double record documents their year-ending run of shows at New York City’s Academy Of Music in December 1971, when they were much closer to their musical peak than they were in 1976. A highlight of the album are the horn parts composed by the great New Orleans songwriter, musician and arranger Allen Toussaint. Inviting him to The Last Waltz would have finally settled the Rock Of Ages debate once and for all.

17. Bonnie Raitt

Her connection to The Band is nebulous. The most tangible evidence I could find is this photo of Bonnie hanging out backstage with Rick Danko the year after The Last Waltz. (Richard Manuel also appeared on Raitt’s 1982 album Green Light.) However, as a blues-loving slide guitarist who partied at The Roxy with the cream of L.A. musicians in the 1970s, she at least feels Band-adjacent. Also: It’s fair to say that the female representation at The Last Waltz was scant at best, and Bonnie would have lent a nice feminine touch to, say, “Ophelia.”

16. Gordon Lightfoot

His connection to The Band? He’s Canadian. The Band is (mostly) Canadian, Neil Young is Canadian, Joni Mitchell is Canadian, and then there’s Gordon Lightfoot, the only face on Canada’s folk-rock Mt. Rushmore not at The Last Waltz. Forget about the “Tin Pan Alley tradition” — what about hockey and maple syrup, you hosers?!

Besides, can you imagine how epic a Lightfoot + The Band version of “The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald” would be? That’s worth replacing at least one Eric Clapton song, no?

15. John Hammond

When I was brainstorming artists for this list, my mind briefly flashed on Bobby Charles, the great singer-songwriter who left New Orleans for Woodstock in the early seventies and collaborated with four-fifths of The Band (sans Robertson) on his cult classic 1972 self-titled debut. Then I remembered that Charles actually was at The Last Waltz, it’s just that the cameras were literally turned off when he performed “Down South In New Orleans.”

Then I started thinking about equally non-famous friends of The Band, and I remembered John Hammond, the folk-bluesman whose 1965 LP So Many Roads features Robertson, Helm, and Hudson along with hot-shot guitarist Michael Bloomfield, who actually volunteered to play piano after hearing Robertson play. While the album isn’t widely known today, it was a precursor to Dylan’s pioneering rock LP Highway 61 Revisited as well as The Band’s own albums.

Give Hammond his flowers! He also does a cool version of “Who Do You Love”!

14. Marvin Gaye

One month before The Last Waltz concert was staged, Marvin was the London Palladium recording the shows that later became 1977’s Live At The London Palladium, one of the horniest concert albums ever made. Am I saying that The Last Waltz could stand to be a little hornier? Yes, I am saying that. The sexual allure of Dr. John can only take you so far.

Also: He popularized “Don’t Do It” — originally known as “Baby Don’t You Do It” — back in 1964. Marvin Gaye + The Band on “Don’t Do It” is something that could cure most diseases.

13. Roger McGuinn

Not long before The Last Waltz, he was riding shotgun with Bob Dylan on The Rolling Thunder Revue. I’m sure he was crashing hard when this concert was taking place. I think he could have brought some of the wild-eyed and shout-y Rolling Thunder energy to The Last Waltz. Including McGuinn would also recognize that The Band usurped The Byrds as the top Dylan-adjacent rock group, though Bob clearly still had love for both bands.

12. Joan Baez

Again: The female representation at The Last Waltz was scant at best. Joan also recorded a hit version of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” in 1971. Not that we would let her sing it instead of Levon, who did the best ever version of the song at The Last Waltz and then never sang it again.

11. Mickey Jones

He’s the least famous person I’ve mentioned so far. And yet he is possibly the closest to The Band in terms of iconic moments in their history. This is the guy who filled in for Levon Helm after he temporarily quit The Hawks during Bob Dylan’s 1965-66 world tour, aka “the tour where everybody booed the electric set.” That’s Mickey you hear punch a hole in his kick drum (metaphorically) after Bob says “Play fucking loud!” on the famous “Royal Albert Hall” bootleg version of “Like A Rolling Stone.” He truly clobbered his kit with style and grace under very trying circumstances. He fought and survived the war. For that, he should have been at The Last Waltz.

10. Dolly Parton

I have ulterior motives for this one. Obviously, Dolly is a legend and she was in her creative prime in the mid-seventies, and The Last Waltz generally (along with more women) could use more country music representation. But I also want to get Emmylou Harris into the proper concert, and not just in the ancillary (though admittedly great) “Evangeline” sequence. On her 1976 album All I Can Do, Dolly covered “Boulder To Birmingham,” from Emmylou’s 1975 LP, Pieces Of The Sky. On that record, her major label debut after the death of Gram Parsons, Emmylou covered one of Dolly’s most famous tunes, “Coat Of Many Colors.”

Clearly, we need to get Dolly and Emmylou together at The Last Waltz, a full 11 years before their collaboration with Linda Ronstadt on 1987’s Trio. (Actually, let’s get Linda on stage here as well.)

9. Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings

More country music! In 1976, Willie and Waylon ascended to new heights of fame and prominence upon the release of Wanted! The Outlaws, the record that codified and popularized the burgeoning outlaw movement. Nearly 50 years later, the connection between these guys and The Band seems more obvious than perhaps it was in the seventies. Together, they form the foundation of what is now known as Americana. But Dylan already invited Willie to perform on the Rolling Thunder Revue earlier in ’76. And Willie and Waylon certainly sail over the Neil Diamond “Mendoza” Line, musically and philosophically.

8. Bruce Springsteen

This is a tricky one. If The Last Waltz had taken place four years later, inviting Bruce might have been a no brainer. But he was still the new kid in 1976. Born To Run had been a media phenomenon the previous year, but there was still a possible “flavor of the month” fate in store for the young Boss. (I had a similar thought regarding Warren Zevon, whose debut album dropped six months before the concert. In spite of his “it guy” status in L.A., he seems a little too new for The Last Waltz.) For Bruce, the leading “New Dylan” of ’76, I think they could have justified an invite. (Even though this would have definitely annoyed Van Morrison.)

I’m thrilled by the possibility of The Band mustering up some long-lost juice from The Hawks’ days for “Backstreets,” but I suspect they would be safer ground with the “Detroit Medley.”

7. Curtis Mayfield

A common reference point for Robertson regarding his own guitar playing with The Band, which evolved from the super-charged blues leads he played on the mid-sixties Dylan tour to the more subtle and soulful asides he sprinkled throughout Music From Big Pink and The Band. Their arrangement of Dylan’s “I Shall Be Released” from Big Pink is the most obvious nod to Mayfield’s work with The Impressions, and it would have been nice to acknowledge the debt by inviting Curtis to grace the stage with one of his signature songs, “People Get Ready.”

6. Crosby & Nash

Prior to The Last Waltz, the most famous all-star rock concert was The Concert For Bangladesh, a 1971 benefit staged at Madison Square Garden by George Harrison along with Bob Dylan, Leon Russell, Eric Clapton, Billy Preston, Ringo Starr, Ravi Shankar and Badfinger. One person who was not invited was Stephen Stills, though he was an essential part of the show — he donated his stage, sound and lighting system and production manager after performing at MSG just two days prior. And Harrison thanked him by not thanking him at the concert or inviting him to perform. Stills instead hung out backstage and got drunk.

At The Last Waltz, Stills actually was invited on stage, though because he showed up late it was only for one of the late night jams included on the expanded version of the album. (Who shows up late to The Last Waltz? Get your shit together, Stills!) Since Stills and Young are already on the bill, we might as well get Crosby and Nash in the mix as well. Imagine how big Neil’s cocaine booger would have been if he had access to Croz’s supply!

5. Gregg Allman and Dickey Betts

Another big-time superstar seventies concert eventually overshadowed by The Last Waltz is Summer Jam at Watkins Glen, a 1973 concert featuring a triple bill of the Grateful Dead, the Allman Brothers Band, and The Band. About 600,000 people showed up, four times the number of ticket buyers. It was an iconic moment that forever locked the three bands in the same context. Therefore, it seems fitting for two of the ABB brothers to show up at The Last Waltz.

Granted, 1976 was a terrible year for Gregg — his road manager Scooter Herring was busted on federal drug charges, and he was compelled to testify against him, leading to his former friend’s 75-year prison sentence. The scandal temporarily ripped the band apart, so in our timeline The Last Waltzcould have also applied to ABB. At worst, Dickey Betts — who at the time promised that “there was no way we can work with Gregg Allman, ever” — might have shanked Gregg on stage during the climactic “I Shall Be Released” group sing-along. Which would have been a pretty amazing end to the movie, to be honest.

4. Johnny Cash

Come on: Johnny and Rick Danko trading verses on “The Long Black Veil”? I am fundamentally against A.I. music but I am almost tempted to commit digital necrophilia in order to hear that.

3. George Harrison

He hung out with The Band at Woodstock in the late sixties, and the vibes were so sweet it made him realize that being in The Beatles kind of sucked. The week before The Last Waltz, he put out one of his worst solo albums, 33 1/3. He ultimately decided not to tour in support of it. He clearly had nothing better to do. Would it have killed him to jam on some All Things Must Pass tunes with his good pals one last time? Clearly not!

2. Elvis Presley

If he had been asked, he probably would have said no. (Or Colonel Tom Parker would have intercepted the message and made sure Elvis didn’t see it.) But it’s amazing to ponder in retrospect that the time all these legends were on the same stage, Elvis was still alive. He wasn’t thriving, perhaps — he was going to die in nine months — but he was still around. And he was on the road, doing his Elvis thing in arenas all over the country.

Something I did not realize until this very second when I Googled Elvis’ tour schedule in 1976: He performed a two-night run of shows in San Francisco that began just three days after The Last Waltz. Elvis was almost, literally, in the building! He could have been the new “most out-of-shape guy in a flamboyant suit” rock star at The Last Waltz, usurping Van!

It was possible, theoretically at least, for Elvis Presley to sing “Mystery Train” with The Band at The Last Waltz. This shouldn’t blow my mind, but it does.

1. Jerry Garcia

I mean, seriously: You stage an all-star concert in San Francisco and you don’t invite Jerry? That’s just not right. And there’s no excuse: Jerry was not on the road on November 25, 1976 — not with the Dead, not with the Jerry Garcia Band — so the man was available. And he covered “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” regularly with JBB, so you had an obvious “in” there. (Put him on second guitar while Levon sings it, for crying out loud!)

I know you could make the argument in 1976 that The Dead and The Band were opposites in terms of economy, i.e. “focus on the song” vs. “jam your balls off.” I guess you could do that? But not inviting Jerry is still inexplicable to me. Who doesn’t invite Jerry in Jerry’s backyard?? Was Bill Graham just being a dick to Jerry that week?

I think I need to step out for a minute and calm down.

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