Not Far From 'Big Pink,'
Levon Helm Is Back Performing

He'll receive the "Lifetime Achievement Award" along with the other four members of the Band, the legendary group that backed Mr. Dylan when he first went electric in 1965, then broke off to forge their own hugely influential, folk-flavored brand of rock; Mr. Helm sang lead on many of their best-known songs: "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down," "Up on Cripple Creek," "The Weight."

And there's a chance Mr. Helm will bring home a second Grammy. "Dirt Farmer," his first studio effort in 25 years, is nominated for "Best Traditional Folk Album." His most acoustic recording to date, resounding with guitars, mandolins and an occasional accordion, "Dirt Farmer" also marks an astounding musical comeback. Twelve years ago, Mr. Helm was diagnosed with throat cancer. He underwent surgery and endured 28 radiation treatments that freed him of the malignancy but left him weak and without a voice. He eventually regained both strength and confidence, and with the help of his daughter Amy (a singer in the roots-and-rock band Ollabelle) began to consider recording again.

"I got enough of my voice back to attempt some sessions, mainly just to see if I could," Mr. Helm says in his marked Southern accent, speaking from his Woodstock, N.Y., home. "With Amy's help and [guitarist/producer] Larry Campbell and the rest of the players, we think we've got a finished product."

"Dirt Farmer" benefits from the collective talents of Mr. Helm, his daughter (who sings and plays drums), Mr. Campbell (a recent Dylan alumnus who doubles on fiddle) and singer-guitarist Teresa Williams. The performances are startling in their unpolished power. Mr. Helm's voice is raspier than in earlier days, and his drawl more pronounced -- a good match for the music on the album.

"Dirt Farmer" 's 13 songs reach back to a time when folk music was of rural, working-class pedigree. Some tunes -- like the Carter Family's "Single Girl, Married Girl" -- are classics from the dawn of the recording age. Others, like Steve Earle's strip-mining protest, "The Mountain," may as well have been written then. Others Mr. Helm recalled from growing up in a musically self-reliant family.

"Songs like 'The Girl I Left Behind,' Blind Child' and 'Little Birds' are the first songs that I ever learned. My mom and my older sister were good singers, and my dad played guitar and sang for Saturday-night house dances out in the country. We all came from that participation generation, you know. If you wanted to hear music back then you had to sing it yourself, and play for each other. "

Mr. Helm's homespun, DIY approach is the unbroken thread linking the many phases of a long career. A converted barn is his home and his studio, which occasionally triples as a performance venue. For the past three years, he has hosted "The Midnight Ramble Sessions," limited-entry concerts that have attracted special guests like Emmylou Harris and Elvis Costello.

" 'The Midnight Ramble' has gotten legs of its own now. We started it out as a way to get some of my voice back, and also people wanted to hear us and have something to do when they got up to Woodstock." Named for the more adult-oriented, after-hours portion of the traveling shows that came through his hometown ("the jokes and everything got spicier," he says), Mr. Helm's version finds its spice in Southern blues and rockabilly rockers, gospel spirit-raisers and honky-tonk tear-jerkers.

Mr. Helm was born in 1940 in Marvell, Ark., the son of a cotton farmer, but from an early age he knew his destiny was different. By high school, he was playing a variety of instruments. By age 17, he was hired to play drums behind a rising rock 'n' roll singer. "Back then, everybody knew the Hawk -- Ronnie Hawkins. He put on a hell of a show, and he was always determined to have the best band."

A six-year apprenticeship took Helm across the South and north to Canada. Hawkins worked and reworked his band -- the Hawks -- into a crack rhythm section. Photographs from the early '60s reveal his group gradually including future members of the Band: first Helm; then guitarist Robbie Robertson, bassist Rick Danko, pianist Richard Manuel; and finally organist Garth Hudson. A financial dispute in 1963 caused the group "to jump ship, all of us at once." Two years later, they met a folk singer with amplified intentions.

By 1965, Bob Dylan had gone electric, but not all the way. "He would go out and do half the show with just his guitar and his harmonica," Mr. Helm remembers. "We would do the second half with him, and we were greeted by a standing ovation of boos! They didn't want to hear all those drums and electric guitars and things."

The irony is that by 1970, the entire music scene was awash in amplification and psychedelic distortion, while the Hawks -- renamed the Band -- were on the cover of Time magazine, earning praise for sparking an unplugged, return-to-the-roots movement.

The Band's first two albums -- "Music From Big Pink" (1968) and "The Band" (1969) -- remain timeless classics. From 19th-century folk ballads to modern-day R&B, the group had found a way to distill traditional music without sacrificing the spirit of rock. They were anachronists with soul, their voices locking into harmonies that were refreshingly unsophisticated for the time, and they were self-sufficient. Each played a variety of instruments, three of them sang lead and they all benefited from Mr. Robertson's songwriting genius.

The Band continued to add to their legacy through the '70s, recording seven more albums. After the group called it quits in 1976, documenting their farewell concert as "The Last Waltz," the members went their separate ways. Mr. Helm recorded a number of albums and acted in such films as "Coal Miner's Daughter" and "The Dollmaker." On occasion, he reunited with his former band mates (save for Mr. Robertson, who devoted himself to creating music for movies), performing the songs that generations of rock fans had grown to love. Sadly, Manuel died in 1986 and Danko in 1999; only Messrs. Helm, Hudson and Robertson remain to acknowledge the applause for their Lifetime Grammys.

The musical transformation of the Band took place in 1967 in the rolling terrain two hours north of New York City, in a house they dubbed "Big Pink" "That was our clubhouse," Mr. Helm says, "where the band became the Band." He still lives in the region. In his autobiography, "This Wheel's on Fire," he wrote of his first visit: "The Catskills reminded me of the Ozarks and the Arkansas hill country . . . going to Woodstock felt like going home."

It was a wet evening last October and the countryside was ablaze with color. King harvest, as the song goes, had surely come. In a muddy field next to Mr. Helm's studio, folks wearing T-shirts that read "Helmland Security" told visitors where to park. Inside, free drinks and snacks were available.

Joan Osborne sang, first with her own band, then with Mr. Helm's roadhouse group. One highlight was an impromptu version of "It Makes No Difference," a Band gem from 1975 that Ms. Osborne sang with lyric sheet in hand and the right touch of heartbreak. Amy Helm, Teresa Williams and blues harmonicist Little Sammy Davis made appearances as well.

The night's set list reflected Mr. Helm's lifelong musical path: some juke-joint blues, a Little Richard boogie, a Dylan ballad. Two "Dirt Farmer" tunes found Mr. Helm on mandolin and harmonizing with his daughter.

He's no longer sporting the bearded, outlaw look of younger years and may appear a bit gaunt. Yet he noticeably sang lead on more than half the tunes that October evening, his voice strong and rich with emotion. Whenever he launched into a Band classic, the crowd joined in. Mr. Helm responded with delight, smiling wide and pushing the music to full throttle.