Rick Danko

This site is all about Rick Danko, the charismatic bass and acoustic guitar player and one of the three lead singers for the legendary rock group, The Band. Rick's iconic plaintive tenor, his ethereal, one-of-a-kind harmonies and his loping, melodic, percussive bass playing were a large part of The Band's signature sound. Equally integral to The Band's mystique--and to their secure and enviable perch high atop the upper crust of rock and roll--was Rick's magnetic, larger-than-life persona--part innocent country boy, part wandering troubadour, part reluctant rock star.

Rick Danko was about music. He was about melody. He was about harmony. He was about authenticity. He was about vulnerability. Rick was--and always will be--the epitome of unadorned, unaffected, unparalleled cool.

I worked with Rick for many years. He was a dear friend and a major influence who "taught me how to seek the path." This site is part of a promise I made to him a long time ago. I hope you enjoy it.

Please note that all content on this site is copyright-protected. All articles, essays, and other written materials (c) Carol Caffin, unless otherwise noted. Do Not Reproduce.


Thanks, Sebastian

Kudos to Sebastian Robertston, Robbie's son, for helping to bring a sense of harmony, unity, and all-around good vibes to The Band community.

For years, for myriad reasons, real and imagined, significant and incidental, there has been some dissension and discord among Band fans. What was once a big, loving group has become smaller groups of splintered factions.

Sebastian has taken a positive step forward and established a Facebook page celebrating all members of The Band. Personally, I think it speaks volumes by putting the focus back where it should be--on the music and on the beautiful gift that was The Band. It also shows Sebastian to be a gentleman.

If you haven't done so already, please check out The Band's official Facebook page, as well as the Facebook pages for Band members. And of course--don't forget The Mothership: Jan Hoiberg's incredible Band website.

Perpetual Motion

I was thinking about Rick today, as I often do, about how he never seemed to be in one place very long--not in one country, one city, even one room. How he couldn't be still, physically or mentally. How, even watching performers in silhouette, or from afar, you could tell which one was Rick because he was the one who was moving when the others weren't. How I would have paid big money to see him try yoga or meditation.

One of the things that comforts me when I feel sad that he's not here is that I really believe--and think I always knew--that Rick was not made for longevity, in the physical sense. I truly believe that Rick was not put on this earth to belong to anyone, to be part and parcel of any time or place. He was put here to breeze through, to leave his mark, and to move on to another plane. He was like a ball in a pinball game, propelled full-force and here just long enough to hit all the bumpers, targets, slingshots, holes, and saucers, to make a great noise, and to make his swift exit.

Remembering Richard Manuel

Remembering Richard Manuel today on the 23rd anniversary of his passing and thinking about his family and all who love him.


Time may not heal, but music does--and Richard left lots of beautiful music. God bless him. Like Rick, he will stay forever young.