On the surface, The Last Waltz, like most of The Band's artistry, was simple, unpretentious and had the home-spun feel of a good folk ballad. After close to two decades of playing live gigs, The Band's guitarist, Robbie Robertson, decided it was time to quit touring. The Band would play one final concert on Thanksgiving Day 1976, invite folks over for dinner and maybe ask a few close friends to join them on stage. Why not film the concert, just for fun?

That farewell gig became The Last Waltz, the legendary, star-studded bash that emerged, in the hands of filmmaker Martin Scorsese, as one of the finest concert films ever made. Originally released in 1978 as a film and a three-LP set, Rhino is releasing an expanded, four-CD boxed set of The Last Waltz this week. A DVD release of the film is due May 7.

The Last Waltz marked the end of an era. The Band had given folk-poet Bob Dylan an electric backbone, and The Band's own albums distilled rock's myriad influences with one of the most creative collective voices in rock history. They were all equally gifted musicians, balancing their talents on record, and their songs captured an essential aspect of Americana in a singularly unique fashion.

This new edition of The Last Waltz discloses far more about the concert than the 1978 film or album. Most importantly, the sequencing of the songs reveals The Band's concept for the concert as never before. It was far more than a final gig -- it paid homage to the blues, jazz, country, gospel and other musical genres that had helped shaped The Band's music. It was a succinct, star-laden history of rock music's most important influences.

The Band's rise to international prominence began in Arkansas, when a young drummer named Levon Helm joined fellow Arkansan Ronnie Hawkins' band in 1957. Hawkins took his show to Toronto and recruited four Canadians. By 1961 the Hawks, as they had become known, included Helm, guitarist Robbie Robertson, bassist Rick Danko, pianist Richard Manuel and keyboardist/horn player Garth Hudson.

The Hawks were more than the dynamo behind Hawkins' tough-edged rockabilly sound. The music was shaped by a rich array of musical influences. Delta and Chicago blues could be heard, along with traditional folk music, New Orleans second-line marches, Anglican church songs, Southern gospel, old-time country a la the Carter Family, gutsy Memphis R & B, and strains of Tin Pan Alley.

By 1965, The Band (who assumed this moniker after the release of their first album, Music From Big Pink, in 1968) had attracted the attention of Bob Dylan. They joined him on his legendary electric tours of 1965-66, then hunkered down with him in Woodstock, N.Y., in 1967 for one of the most storied recording sessions of all time -- The Basement Tapes. Critic Greil Marcus, ruminating on The Basement Tapes in his remarkable book Invisible Republic , makes the argument that Dylan and The Band tapped deeply into the American musical subconsciousness, creating in the process an alternative America steeped in folkloric and musical motifs.

This pattern continued in The Band's own music. They absorbed and reflected the sprawling genius of American and Canadian music, and did it with a refreshingly creative and original collective voice. Their first few records were treasure troves of recast roots music, featuring eclectic instrumentation and songwriting resplendent in its creation of character and setting. On their eponymous second album in 1968, they sang about the American Civil War ("The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down"), a farmer's woes ("King Harvest") and the old folks back in Virginny ("Rockin' Chair"). Their songs were musically and topically anachronistic in the late 1960s, and their lyrics evoked a sense of timelessness in an era of rapid musical and cultural change. It was unlike any other music at the time, and earned the respect of fellow musicians -- guitarist Eric Clapton admitted that he was "in awe" of The Band's musicianship and songwriting.

Rhino's new boxed set, like the original LP, opens with "Theme From The Last Waltz," an orchestrated number that adds a theatrical element to the audio set -- reminding those in front of their stereos that this was presented as a staged production. And like the best productions, it had a thematic element and a plot, in this case one resonant with musical tributes to mentors and stylistic influences.

One of the significant differences between the film and the original LP was the film's inclusion of interviews and biographical material, which provided musical and historical context for the concert. The album was merely a collection of songs from the concert, removed from sequential order and lacking thematic continuity. While these crucial elements of the concert were missing from the original album, this new set brings them to the forefront in glorious fashion.

The concert starts in earnest with "Up on Cripple Creek," with its telling line "this living off of the road is getting pretty old," making no mistake why this is the last concert -- they've been playing gigs far too long. Helms' voice growls with gusto, Danko and Manuel harmonize with glee and Hudson's organ and synth add perfect fills. Robbie Robertson shows his mastery of the understated guitar lick, and the rhythm section of Helms' drums, Manuel's piano and Danko's bass is so solid you could lay railroad tracks on it.

After this opening salvo, they pay homage to their first bandleader, Ronnie Hawkins, who tosses off a jocular "Who Do You Love," then they roll down the Mississippi to New Orleans, as the great pianist Doctor John performs his "Such a Night." Moving upstream a bit, blues great Muddy Waters joins for one of the finest of this set's new tunes, Louis Jordan's "Caldonia." Blending Muddy's own mixture of Delta and Chicago blues with Jordan's jump jazz beat, few performances distill rock's influences as joyfully and succinctly as this gem.

The concert continues on Disc 2 with the theme of exportation of American musical influences, beginning with guitarist Clapton who, like many British musicians, absorbed and appropriated American blues. Disc 2 ends with two selections by Irish R & B, master Van Morrison, including a rousing version of his classic "Caravan," with its mix of American R & B and European gypsy imagery. Reflecting the influence of Tin Pan Alley, Neil Diamond sings "Dry Your Eyes," a fitting tribute to the New York song factory.

Sandwiched between Clapton, Diamond and Morrison is a mini set honoring Canadians and the influence of American music on the United States' northern neighbor. In addition to "Helpless" and "Coyote" from the original recording, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell add three new songs, including Mitchell's tribute to Memphis blues master Furry Lewis, "Furry Sings the Blues." Interspersed between guest appearances are plenty of Band originals, including previously omitted tunes like "Rag Mama Rag."

As Bob Dylan's backing band and musical cohorts, The Band honed their creativity and gained international attention and it's fitting that the show ends with a set with Dylan. The original album wraps up with all the evening's stars coming on stage for "I Shall Be Released." The show continued with instrumental jams with Young, Clapton, Stephen Stills, Ringo Starr and Doctor John joining in. Sloppy and slightly unfocused, they're fun, but it's easy to see why they were omitted from the original release.

The whole concept grew too big to fit on stage, and The Band added the studio-produced "Last Waltz Suite" as a final side of the original LP. A beautiful five-song set, it features Emmylou Harris on the Cajun-flavored "Evangeline" and the Staple Singers on "The Weight." Packed with biblical allusions, "The Weight's" gospel flavor blossoms with the sanctified vocals of Mavis and Roebuck Staples.

Five previously unreleased concert rehearsals include The Band's "King Harvest (Has Surely Come)" and "Rag Mama Rag," plus Morrison's "Caravan." The last cut is Robertson's solo guitar demo of "The Last Waltz Theme," an elegant study and a fitting end to this definitive edition of The Last Waltz.

Restored to its original concert sequencing, this new edition of The Last Waltz documents not only The Band, but also the historical roots of rock music. Their hommage to specific influences and mentors weaves a link to the past obscured on the original release. It reminds us of The Band's uncanny ability to simultaneously assimilate influences and create original, timeless music. While many rock musicians did this to some extent, The Band raised it to a level of artistry that was fresh and original and steeped in tradition. The Last Waltz reminds us why The Band stands so tall in the history of rock music.

Originally appeared in a slightly different version on April 25, 2002, in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette