BOB DYLAN

If you like ludicrously bold and sweeping statements how about this one: Bob Dylan is the greatest artistic figure of the twentieth century. I think even more so than the Beatles Bob Dylan single-handedly radically changed popular music. Before Dylan lyricism was effectively ignored by those penning the popular hits of the day. Sure, there were old blues veterans who poured their heart and soul into their lyrics but in terms of commercial pop music lyrics were just a by-product (preferably as banal and as romantic as possible) to a nice melody. The rock'n'roll literacy that Dylan brought to twentieth century consciousness was utterly revolutionary and directly responsible for rock music existing today as we know it. Depending on your view of history (disregarding a Tolstoy-esque account of the determinist forces of history) no Dylan equals no Velvet Underground, no Neil Young, no David Bowie, no Bruce Springsteen, no Byrds (obviously) and any subsequent band that places any kind of importance on their lyrics (therefore Joy Division, the Smiths, Nirvana, Replacements, etc.) Furthermore, it is doubtful the Beatles, Stones, Hendrix and so on would have produced nearly as impressive works if Dylan hadn't come along. I doubt the Beatles would have gone from With the Beatles to Revolver in a mere two years without Dylan redefining rock'n'roll as art in the meantime. In fact, I cannot think of any serious (or at least good) artist post-mid-sixties that was not influenced in some way by Dylan's innovation. Even if you place no importance on lyrics at all the way Dylan changed people's perceptions of pop music ensured any artists that wanted to take themselves seriously owe Dylan some dues. The fact that his vocals were so obviously untrained and unprofessional opened the doors to every singer-songwriter who wasn't a former choir-boy. Of course, the repercussions of this are enormous as every band or artist with a less-than-perfect vocalist owe their very existence to Mr. Dylan. In effect, he was the first person to develop the concept of art in mainstream music. Of course Dylan was not some semi-deity that perceived things radically differently from mere mortals. Indeed, his rock'n'roll revolution essentially happened by accident. It is not as if he sat down one day and worked out how to change the world. He simply saw the insane popularity of the Beatles and decided he wanted a piece of that pie. He hired himself a garage band, crossed over from folk to rock'n'roll and the rest, as they say, is history.

The thing is, even if Dylan had made absolutely no impact on the music scene I'd still be calling him a great artist for the mere fact that he was such a great songwriter - I'd be tempted to label him the best ever. I'd certainly say he is the greatest ever lyricist (the likes of Tom Waits and Bruce Springsteen make strong cases but they are still essentially Dylan disciples) and I'm sure many of his lyrics come off favourably against the great poets of yesteryear. It is vital, though, that with all this furore over his lyrics that his true worth of a songwriter is not forgotten. Despite his imperfect singing voice Dylan was still able to invent and re-appropriate hundreds of great and memorable melodies. He was a great songwriter in every sense of the word. Even when he retired as a revolutionary in the late sixties he remained a great singer-songwriter up until the late seventies with sporadic successes later on in his career. His inherent talent is probably best proved by the fact that one of his greatest albums, 1975's Blood on the Tracks, was not revolutionary in any sense. Of course, some of his best albums were utterly innovative and as well as the revolutionary lyrics the folk-rock crossover of the music on Bringing it all Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited proved to be almost as influential. In short, you can bring out all sorts of disreputable characters in an attempt to prove Dylan was not as influential as all that but you'll never convince me that he was not responsible for some of the best albums to ever fall within the sphere of popular music. Greatest artist of the twentieth century? Mr Dylan, take a bow.

From: Ryan Mulligan

Hey, I very much recommend Dylan's 93 all covers album World Gone Wrong. I'd give it an 8 myself, as it's a really good listen. Very spooky album. Also, As Good As I Been To You is supposedly just as good (though funny), but I don't have that one. Good Dylan reviews (I just read the whole page!), though I'd give JWH a 9 myself, great album.

From: Chris Simpson

Came across your Dylan reviews while putting off sundry boring chores. Excellent. Ha - I waited to get the Bootleg threesome cheap and eventually succumbed - Liverpool Virgin £40 for four and Biograph was also on offer in the same deal. Where is More Dylan Greatest Hits? "Positively 4th Street" a welcome inclusion there. I know the completists' dilemma. I fear it comes down to wallet considerations. Infidels was worth it for £2.99 in '84. The CBS 'Nice Price' deal worked wonders in the early 1980s. Would I now spend a fiver on Shot of Love? I surfed and found one favourable review of Dylan, CBS outtakes, released in spite when he'd gone to Asylum. I do have my vinyl out here and the only original album on CD with me is Planet Waves. Ho hum. I think you got the measure of that and the two versions of "Forever Young" get fairly tedious. Is Hard Rain worth owning? Best wishes, Chris Simpson

[With regards to Hard Rain, from what I've heard it is decent enough, for a good price, but overall the Live 1966 or Live 1975 packages are probably the best live efforts - JF]

There is a handy misconception that Bob Dylan's debut offering was the folk classic The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. A misunderstanding like that further enhances the legend of Bob Dylan by suggesting he came to the world as a fully fledged genius. It also helps to gloss over the fact that his real debut album was a distinctly average folk album full of distinctly average folk songs by a distinctly average folk singer. Of course what proved to be the case in reality is actually perfectly consistent with Dylan's mystique. Bob Dylan wasn't just some genius-machine, continually churning out great album after great album. Part of his enigma involves stunts such as throwing out John Wesley Harding as a successor to Blonde on Blonde - two of the most unrelated-sounding albums ever, the former sounding like he gained thirty years in the space of two - and jumping, out of the blue, from years of middling releases in the early-seventies to the magnificent monument that is Blood on the Tracks. Furthermore, although I've not heard the albums in question, he is also accused of matching some of the greatest releases in history with some of the worst (1980's Saved apparently being the nadir). So for his debut a very young Bob picked eleven traditional folk tunes (some more well-known than others) and added a couple of unexceptional self-penned numbers. From what I know I believe Dylan was playing several originals in his live set but it was general practice for new folk singers to include only reappropriations of old songs on their debut albums. In fact, it seems logical that Dylan did have plenty of originals as it is hard to imagine he impressed John Hammond enough to finance the recording of this album on his musical ability alone. He is a decent enough guitar player (his slide work on "In My Time of Dying" is pretty impressive) but his harmonica playing has never been at all convincing (most of the time he doesn't even seem to know what to do with it - listen to Neil Young or Bruce Springsteen to hear how a harmonica should be played) and his singing is, even at this stage, an acquired taste. He isn't a bad singer (I'd say he was always competent until his nasal whine became too overbearing in the eighties) but, for God's sake, there must have been hundreds of superior singers around in the same scene in Greenwich Village in the early sixties. We can just be thankful that Hammond was perceptive enough to see beyond his superficial lack of musical ability and recognise him as the potential genius that he was. From a retrospective point of view I suppose there is some interest in recognising certain quirks and themes that Dylan was soon to make his trademark but, personally, that ain't how I get my kicks. Of course, this isn't one of his bad albums but, on the other hand, it is hardly an unforgettably compelling experience. Most of the folk tunes are OK but I don't tend to waste my time listening to such an unexceptional genre. Taken individually most of the songs seem passable but listening to the whole thing, from beginning to end, is a rather tedious experience. Indeed, I'd hazard that, out of my collection, this is the Dylan album I put on least often. The two originals are the sporadically witty "Talkin' New York" and the utterly unmemorable "Song to Woody" (written for his then hero, Woody Guthrie). Two of the best numbers have since been improved and popularised by rock bands - "House of the Risin' Sun" by the Animals and "In My Time of Dyin'" by Led Zeppelin. For the former Dylan pitches in with a strong vocal performance and is at least respectful enough to retain the female-perspective of the lyrics (thereby keeping the meaning) whilst the latter makes for an enjoyably short companion to Zeppelin's gargantuan reworking. "Man of Constant Sorrow" is one of the more memorable numbers and his arrangement of the obscure "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down" is a high-point, although apparently borrowed from someone else. If you were to listen to the odd track I've mentioned above you might find some enjoyment but the album as a whole mostly fails to be either particularly interesting or enjoyable. It is also noticeable that, unlike many of his other mediocre albums, there is not a single song that comes close to being a Greatest Hit. In fact, this album practically defines the tag "inauspicious". I'd say Dylan fans might like this album but, let's face it, I'm a Dylan fan myself and I sure as hell ain't too keen on it. And this bloke's supposed to be the greatest artist of the twentieth century? What was I thinking...

Thankfully there was more to Dylan than just being an average folk performer as his original songwriting debut (and therefore the one that really matters) was an absolute classic of the genre. It is not just a case of excellent songwriting as, historically, this album was instrumental in ushering in a new regime in folk, with the focus switched from political protest songs and traditional ballads to introspective, personal songs. With all the furore over Dylan redefining rock'n'roll and popular music it is worth remembering it was with albums like this that he also invented the notion of the singer-songwriter. It is noticeable retrospectively, although not necessarily at the time, that the best songs on here, both lyrically and musically, are the songs that deal with Dylan's own emotions and personal situation. Although the likes of "Masters of War" and, of course, "Blowin' in the Wind" were extremely popular amongst the folkies at the time, now they just seem naive and outdated, particularly when compared to the universal themes beautifully explored in the likes of "Girl from North Country" and "Bob Dylan's Dream". Indeed, it seems rather odd that "Blowin' in the Wind" should have become one of the most famous compositions of the twentieth century as there seems little to justify such a lofty reputation. The melody is pretty good, although a little simplistic and hardly one of Dylan's best, but I'd imagine it is the lyrics that draw the praise. In which case, I'm even more baffled as they don't appear to say anything. The fact that Dylan suggests the answer to his rhetorical questions is undetermined seems to suppose more a philosophical rejection of politics than any kind of specific political protest. That said, it would be churlish of me to deny its classic status, even if it is overrated as a song-in-itself and again shows up the naivety of the folk scene at the time. "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall" is certainly a superior composition but, again, given this was taken to be a protest song what exactly is it supposed to be protesting against? I know it was inspired by the Cuban Missile Crisis but, the chorus aside, there aren't any clear signs that is what it is about. It appears the sooner Dylan starts bragging about fucking women around the better. Mind you, this album does contain one of his misogynist classics - "Don't Think Twice It's Alright" (bizarrely, my mother's favourite Dylan song). Certainly the wistful arrangement and sensitive vocals disguise the vicious put-downs of his ex-girlfriend ("you just kinda wasted my precious time" being a classic example). "Girl from the North Country", on the other hand, at least has suitable lyrics to match the similar feel. In fact, if "Don't Think Twice" is a typical bitter-love song of Dylan's "Girl from the North Country" is far more unusual in its sincerity (I've no idea whether or not it is based on real emotions). Also obviously sincere is the gorgeously wistful (if bizarrely titled) "Bob Dylan's Dream". Reminiscing about his childhood friendships, and how they grew apart, it makes Dylan seem far older than his twenty-two years (and maybe indirectly influenced the subsequent "My Back Pages"). Apparently even at this early stage of his career Dylan tried to release a folk/rock'n'roll crossover, "Mixed Up Confusion", as a single but Hammond refused to release it given he, rightly, thought it would irritate Bob's folk audience. Therefore, "Corrina, Corrina" stands as the only track on the album with a band backing him up, as well as being the only cover. The reason this album is probably the best of his quartet of folk albums is the fact that all moods get adequately represented. As well as the serious protests songs and forlorn love ballads Dylan also throws in a few comedy numbers, including "Bob Dylan's Blues", "Talkin' World War III Blues", and the excellent "I Shall Be Free" which closes the album with a suitably relaxed mood. Certainly the focus on comic story-telling was one of many innovative aspects of this album that make it such a milestone both for folk and popular music in general. It is not Dylan's best album, although it is certainly up there, but the sheer influence of this album is incalculable. The first LP of original songs by the best original songwriter there ever was.

So given that the folkies were dead sold on Dylan's protest songs about nothing in particular Bob was persuaded (or forced) into releasing an album concentrating solely on serious political stuff; although he still squeezed in a few sombre love songs. This album is often criticised as being too turgid and tuneless, at the behest of the folk crowd, and therefore clearly the worst of his early albums. It is a convenient argument - Dylan didn't want to do it and so didn't bother making a good job of it - and it is certainly far more traditional in form than the charismatic Freewheelin'. It is clear, from the unambiguous lyrics to the repetitive arrangements to the generic folk melodies, even to the serious photo on the cover (complete with worker's shirt) that this album is not one that accurately reflects Dylan's artistic persona. It is very much a case of Hammond and co. trying to force Dylan's square peg into their round hole (although Dylan would argue that they were the squares). Despite all this, however, I still reckon this stands up as a very good folk album. Personally, I quite like the sombre mood and, despite being far more straight-forward than normal, his lyrics are still excellent. Indeed, this time you even know what he is supposed to be singing about. From the racist manipulation of the authorities ("Only a Pawn in their Game") to Steinbeck-esque accounts of the suffering of migrant workers and poor farmers ("North Country Blues" and "Ballad of Hollis Brown") to criticism of social inequalities ("The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carol") to a condemnation of religion and war ("With God on Our Side" - which is particularly interesting given his later conversion to fundamental Christianity) all the favourite topics of the folkies get covered. Whilst most political songs do age rather badly the better songs still have some power ("Ballad of Hollis Brown" in particular) and at least they are realistically cynical rather than idealistically naive. And, above all, the title track still has relevancy even today. Of course the times haven't changed that much but lines like "the first one now will later be last" and "mothers and fathers throughout the land/don't criticise what you can't understand/your sons and daughters are beyond your command" still seem perfectly relevant today. Furthermore, the song itself is excellent, certainly superior to "Blowin' in the Wind", and I'd say perfectly deserving of its classic status. It is certainly one of the best folk songs I've heard and if people were going nuts over "Blowin' in the Wind" "The Times They Are a-Changin'" must have blown them away. Of course, Dylan still managed to squeeze in some personal songs and, thankfully for the folkies, they are still sombre enough to retain the serious atmosphere. "One Too Many Mornings" is gentle (if a little melodyless); "When the Ship Comes in" is the jauntiest track on the album but it is "Boots of Spanish Leather" that grab the honours for being wonderfully wistful and achingly sincere (apparently written when his on-off girlfriend went off to Europe for a bit). The final "Restless Farewell" again does not exactly cram in the hooks which, in general, is the main criticism of this album. Lyrically it is an interesting ramble on his uncertain artistic position, showing obvious signs of his dissatisfaction with being pigeonholed by the folk scene. Personally, I find this to be a far stronger album than many people give credit for. The enforced regulations mean it does come across as a little strained at times, it is hardly overflowing with strong melodies or interesting arrangements, and the uncompromising mood can be a bit oppressive but, bar a few numbers, it remains a reassuringly solid album. Although this album may be less revolutionary than most of his sixties efforts it is essential to his catalogue as the forced release that stoked the fires of rebellion and was indirectly responsible for the controversial revolution Dylan was to spark.

Bob Dylan is not a man who gets pushed around by other people so one serious folk album down the line he reinforced the fact he was very definitely his own man with this release. Recorded in one drunken night, there is one remaining political number ("The Chimes of Freedom") with every other track being either introspective and deeply personal or comic and off-the-cuff. In fact, the knowing title could not be more appropriate. Whilst The Times They Are a-Changin' forced him to concentrate on the serious political side, on this album he rebelled against the folkies by exposing only his introspective, personal side (soon to be known as being a singer-songwriter). Indeed, the reason The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan is the best effort of his folk era is probably mostly down to the fact that it perfectly encapsulates both sides of his persona in one handy package. That said, it is certainly evident that this other side of Dylan was actually the side he felt most successfully fulfilled his true artistic ambitions. Whilst the Another Side Bob Dylan resurfaced on future albums Mr. The Times They Are a-Changin' was already a relic of the past. It is perhaps interesting that the level of songwriting has not actually improved that much since The Freewheelin'. Indeed, the lack of progression up to this stage means the three (original) folk albums pretty much stand in the same position in time. Some of the lyrics on here are quite surreal and obviously point towards the "gypsy black madonnas" and "diplomats and siamese cats on chrome horses" but, still, there isn't really anything on here that is radically removed from the previous two albums. "I Shall Be Free" is even reprised as "I Shall Be Free No. 10" with new lyrics but, if anything, it merely shows Dylan did not put as much care and attention into the composing of this album. The comic tale of "Motorpsycho Nitemare", whilst amusing, clearly echoes "Talkin' World War III Blues" and the dreary "Ballad in Plain D" is as monotonous as the worst cuts on the previous album. Apparently, due to its overly honest account of his split from his girlfriend, Dylan regretted including it - which makes two of us. To be fair, this album still has unique aspects and most of the best tracks certainly show some sort of progression, not to mention the fact they are some of his best folk tunes. "Black Crow Blues" is played only on a piano and makes for an enjoyable diversion from Dylan's acoustic onslaught. The forced marriage between surreal lyrics and political themes helps to make "Chimes of Freedom" one of Dylan's greatest and best-known folk tunes (also helped by the Byrds' cover). The vivid imagery on "My Back Pages" also points to improvements as a lyricist and its restless force is utterly compelling. The classic "It Ain't Me Babe" is perhaps the most famous song on the album and the fact that it was chosen to end the album only emphasises the interpretation of it being a kiss-off to the stagnating folk scene. "I Don't Believe You" is also characteristically bitter, although it seems to be aimed at another of Dylan's preferred targets - women. The fact that he could bash out an album as good as this in one night, with a complete LP already having been released earlier in the year, serves as irrefutable proof of Dylan's prolific talent for songwriting. Even the more superficially slight numbers, such as "All I Really Want to Do" and "Spanish Harlem Incident", have a definite charm and in no way detract from the overall quality of the album. The really amazing thing is that even with such an impressive legacy already behind him Dylan was only going to get better. As a talent nurtured strictly within a single genre the moment had finally arrived for Dylan to leave his confines and revolutionise the very essence of popular music. The times were very definitely about to a-change.

With someone with a career as immense, revolutionary and rambling as Dylan's the record company are somewhat blessed with having a large and varied array of historical events to document. As well as the career-encompassing original Bootleg Series (Vols. 1 to 3) Columbia have also treated us to plush official issues of famous bootleg recordings from the legendary "Royal Albert Hall" concert (Vol. 4) and the Rolling Thunder Revue of 1975 (Vol. 5). On the heels of the past two live recordings, then, comes Vol. 6, documenting Dylan's final farewell to his original folk scene on Halloween 1964 in New York. Although the gig is all acoustic it of course captures Dylan on the cusp of his artistic revolution, as the promotional material smugly proclaims, and therefore displays a restless young pioneer not afraid to break from the destiny written for him by others but palpably nervous and unsure about into what whole heap of trouble he is about to dive into. The material is mostly extracted from his three original folk albums but with some of the era-defining acoustic classics of the following album, Bringing it All Back Home, also featured, probably for the first time. As an aside, the fact that he already had effectively the second side of Bringing it All Back Home finished by this time suggests the controversial first side of electric rock'n'roll was probably added subsequently. The less committed fan amongst us, who might quite reasonably query why we need to hear Dylan playing the same acoustic material over again, will no doubt be tempted by the fact that this concert also includes three of Dylan's officially unrecorded signature tunes - the biting satire of "Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues", the typically misogynist "If You Gotta Go, Go Now (Or Else You Gotta Stay All Night)" and the left-over protest histrionics of "Who Killed Davey Moore?". The latter number is actually a key to the history of this package as Dylan's obvious boredom in reeling off the old protest numbers clearly reveals the fact that he had grown tired of such one-dimensional confines and was looking to farer flung fields. As well as being relevant to the historical side of this release, it is also representative of one of the minor failings. It is a matter of interest to hear Dylan playfully disparaging his former works but the bare pleasure from hearing a man half-heartedly singing a song he does not want to is fairly minimal. Furthermore, it is clear from the banter and performance in general that Dylan was either in a mischievous mood or, more likely, had been consuming most of his rider before the gig. Again, it is semi-amusing to hear him giggle drunkenly to himself and indulge in nonsensical banter with the audience but, again, hearing him frequently mangle his lines and embarrassingly struggling through the intro of "I Don't Believe You" (he has to ask the audience to remind him of the opening lines) one can't help but feel you had to be there. Joan Baez's (ever)presence on the second CD does little to alleviate matters as performing a duet with someone who can barely perform the song solo does not produce the most coherent of renditions. Only when Dylan lets Baez sing on her own, with the traditional "Silver Dagger", does she deserve to pick up her cut from the takings. The final problem with this release is the fact that, in terms of material, it does not really show us anything new. Of course there is little room to play with when relying on the bare essentials of vocals, acoustic guitar and harmonica and, on a theoretical level, the only difference between a recording of an acoustic concert and an acoustic album is the polite applause between the songs. I suppose that is why this particular concert was chosen in that it allows one to concentrate on Dylan's personality and attitude at the time much more closely but I'm not a historian, just a music lover, and I'd rather just listen to some good tunes. In truth, this does little to warrant being played ahead of the mesmerising first CD of the Live 1966 concert which is, of course, also all-acoustic. Thus, the individual merits of this album primarily come with hearing renditions of the classics that were not performed in '66 such as intense, spell-binding readings of "Gates of Eden" and "It's All Alright Ma" (which both come across as the most important songs in the world) and brilliantly off-the-cuff run-throughs of "Spanish Harlem Incident" and "To Ramona". It is not as if the rest of the material is particularly poor but the fact that most of the renditions are marginally inferior to the originals does little to justify the effort that went into preparing this package for official release. It is not as if I want the Bootleg Series to run out of steam but with the main bases of Dylan's amazing career already covered one wonders what exactly there is left to exhume. Mind you, as long as the concert is good I won't be complaining as it is the fact that history was placed before quality for this release that provides the main faults. It is a good gig, of course, but like most hilariously drunken escapades one really had to be there.

Dylan's electric breakthrough is actually available with two different titles - Subterranean Homesick Blues and Bringing it all Back Home. However, the track-listing and artwork are identical so there is no reason to be concerned, just buy which ever title is nearest or cheapest. The album itself is something of an anomaly as Dylan recorded the first half with a garage band in tow to produce one of the most ground-breaking and astonishing sides of rock'n'roll in music history, whilst the second reverts back to folk, albeit revelling in a continuation of the surrealist imagery dabbled with on Another Side. In a way, you would have thought if Dylan did want to divide his past and future so starkly he would have pre-empted his "Albert Hall" gig by starting with the folk before switching to the confrontational garage rock. I am also surprised that it is Highway 61 Revisited and not this album that gets the tag of being the confrontational, revolutionary milestone release. I can only presume the purist folkies were so mesmerised by the folk on the second side that they didn't bother turning the record over to hear what was on the other side. Indeed, the album begins with one of the most startling and revolutionary songs in rock'n'roll's history - the variable title track, "Subterranean Homesick Blues". In little over two minutes Dylan blurts out three verses of surrealist stream-of-consciousness beat-poetry (there's no chorus) in an almost proto-rap style, supported by the minimalist rock'n'roll of his backing band. I doubt there are many introductions to an album that are more explosive and historically shocking than that one. Furthermore, it was also one of the very first songs to feature a promotional video, essentially a camera on Dylan holding up cards with snatches of lyrics on them to keep up with the song. All in all, then, a pretty revolutionary song. For me, part of the charm of this album is the fact that it is just a amateur garage band that is backing him up. Whereas Highway 61 has a fuller sound and the arrangements of Blonde on Blonde come from crack Nashville session men I'm sure it was still Bob's choice to have such a bunch of unprofessionals on here. I don't like throwing around such tags but, in a way, this is one of the very first punk albums. Not just in the sense it was such an obvious "fuck you" to his self-appointed musical superiors but also in the fact it is just simply basic rock'n'roll played by amateurs at as high a tempo as they could competently manage. Even if we replace the punk tag for simply rock'n'roll (as I usually do) the first side of this album still ranks as some of the greatest rock'n'roll ever produced. Varied arrangements aren't needed and Dylan's lyrical prowess is already at an all-time high. Furthermore, his lyrics are alternately drawled and spat out in such a way that he can't help but come across as one of the coolest rock'n'roll stars around (although that was obviously his intention). "Maggie's Farm" is one of the greatest rock'n'roll songs of the sixties with Dylan spitting out subversive anti-authoritarian lyrics, backed by the unrelenting rush of his garage rockers. And even though the triplet of "Outlaw Blues", "On the Road Again" and "Bob Dylan's 115th Dream" have hardly gone down as his greatest hits the seething attitude, caustic wit and rock'n'roll purity all see them through. Despite the innovation of his articulate garage rock it is actually the acoustic songs that stand out the highest. Even on the first side the pretty love songs "She Belongs to Me" and "Love Minus Zero" are definite highlights and certainly are two of his greatest sixties songs. The descending hook on the latter is one of the single best hooks he ever wrote. Of course the four lengthy acoustic songs that make up the second half of the album are also considered his greatest hits, which really shows the strength of this album. You might possibly already be familiar with "Mr. Tambourine Man" and therefore you'll know that it is a surrealist masterpiece, spurred on by a dreamy arrangement and a flawless vocal melody. You will also probably be familiar with the sublime "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", although possibly through Van Morrison's even more sublime reading of it, which, in turn, us nineties kids know as Beck's "Jackass". Whilst I give Van's cover the slight edge over the original I'll say it loud and say it proud that the Byrd's "Mr. Tambourine Man", whilst still a good song, is very definitely not superior to the original. The couplet that make up the rest of the second side are both wordy political numbers with "It's Alright Ma" shading it ahead of "Gates of Eden" thanks to a seething vocal delivery and less obtuse lyrics. So this album certainly ranks as one of Dylan's most revolutionary album and also an astonishing artistic achievement. The three garage numbers in the middle might mean it ranks slightly below the next two electric albums but I still love the cool rock'n'roll attitude of it all. Also, please note that I originally only gave this 9* but even at the time I knew it was only a matter of time before this day came and I was forced to upgrade to a ten.

It is fair to say this album would deserve 10* if it only consisted of the first song. The lyrics are utterly unparalleled, even then or now, for example - "princess on the steeple and all the pretty people drinkin', thinkin' they got it made", and the verse that begins with "you never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns whey they all did tricks for you" is perhaps the best and most famous single verse of a song in the history of popular music. The six minute running time was an unheard-of-length for a single (indeed, the song had to be split over two sides of a 45rpm vinyl). And one can only imagine what the innocent pop-pickers of the time thought when confronted by that grating, nasal rusty blade of a voice and the incessant repetition of the sole riff that the song is anchored on. With this in mind it is perhaps unsurprising that "Like a Rolling Stone" blew away the old standards and became an easily identifiable catalyst for the sudden switch from disposable pop to rock'n'roll as art. It may merely be coincidental but, as well as being the most revolutionary song ever, a good case can be made to prove (insofar as that is possible) that it is also the greatest song ever. I'd wager it is probably the song I have most heard in my life to date and the fact that the opening crack of the drums still sends shivers down my spine and my attention is fully diverted for the full six minutes suggests its quality transcends the entertainment value attached to music and, instead, resides on some higher plateau. Given that it was "Like a Rolling Stone" that was the key to Dylan succeeding in crossing over from the suffocating folk scene to fully-fledged pop idol status it perhaps becomes less surprising that this accompanying album was the release that was intensely demonised by the jilted folkies. It was also the promotional tour for this album that resulted in all that slow-handclapping and bitter confrontations with disgruntled audiences (covered on the "Albert Hall" release). Still, you'd like to think that by now the folkies have held their hands up and admitted they were wrong. On a good day I might refer to this album, as with "Like a Rolling Stone", the greatest ever. Its consistency is greater than Bringing it All Back Home and the arrangements are more intelligent, better performed and represent a more obvious marriage between folk and rock'n'roll. Indeed, until that nasty little oik Johnny Thunders came along I'd unerringly swear that this was my favourite album of all time. I remember when I was just a wee lad (no older than about 10, probably younger) my dad made me put together a compilation tape to listen to while we drove round Ireland during the summer holidays and, along with a lot of guff like Joe Cocker and eighties Van Morrison, he requested that I included "Positively 4th Street" and "Like a Rolling Stone". When we got home from holiday I half-inched his copy of Highway 61 Revisited and the rest, as the cliche goes, is history. The lyrical imagery was still a little over my head but there is no doubting this album used to, and still does, take me to another place. A place filled with diplomats with their siamese cats, blind commissioners, hysterical brides in penny arcades; characters like Napoleon in rags, Mack the Finger, Mister Jones; and mysterious seducers like Queen Jane, Sweet Melinda and his very own junkyard angel. The album veers from the misogynist bombast of "Like a Rolling Stone", to the surrealist anarchy of "Tombstone Blues" and the title track, to the bitter sarcasm of "Ballad of a Thin Man" and "Tom Thumb's Blues", to the final emotionally draining climax of the remarkable "Desolation Row". The misguided and unfortunate people who criticise this album may most probably resort to claiming the arrangements never veer beyond slow blues or fast blues (otherwise known as rock'n'roll). Sure "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, it Takes a Train to Cry" or "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" rely on basic blues chord changes but to analyse purely from a technical aspect means one completely misses the textures of the arrangements (particularly on the latter), the intoxicating atmosphere and, most importantly, the fantastic and utterly seductive melodies. It might just be the blues with a few more instruments than normal but never have I heard a set of blues tunes that were more melodic. Other than the first and final tracks the songs that I have come to regard as the stand out moments are probably the aching ballad "Queen Jane Approximately" and the lusciously arranged and engrossingly atmospheric "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues". And if the album begins with a startlingly revolutionary song then it is fair to say it also ends with one. "Desolation Row" chugs on for almost eleven minutes and, although I'm no historian, I'm guessing that was pretty damn revolutionary (I can't think of any earlier mainstream songs that go on for so long). The arrangement is the sparsest on the album, Bob plays some chords and someone else picks out a few acoustic fills, and the structure, keeping with the rest of the album, is simple and repetitive - just verse after verse after verse. The lyrics, though, are some of his most evocative and, together with the sombre atmosphere, mean all eleven minutes are a joy to behold. Not to mention the fact that pretty much everyone for ever-after followed his lead by ending albums with ambitious epics (and particularly Neil Young). It is fitting that this album should begin and end with such innovative classics as it helps highlight the fact that this album as a whole was as utterly revolutionary and as ground-breaking as you care to conceive of. The album that changed the world.

Bob makes it a hat-trick as his seventh official release joined the previous two in being another of the greatest albums of all time. Furthermore, Bob decided some more rules had to be broken and innovations pioneered so he made his first album as a publicly recognised superstar a double album on vinyl. Again, I have to say this history stuff is pretty boring but I think Frank Zappa's Freak Out!, whilst nowhere near as good, may well have actually been the first double album. However, I think we can safely say Blonde on Blonde was the first double-album released within the sphere of popular consciousness and therefore must have been the first double-album most people actually encountered. (Freak Out! was, of course, a rather underground, subversive affair.) The mark of a great artist, unsurprisingly, is the desire and ability to progress and redefine their discipline, so this album was in no way Highway 61 Revisited revisited twice over. From the hurly-burly of New York Bob relocated to the country haven of Nashville and, with a couple of exceptions, recruited an entirely new band. As a result this album is in direct contrast to Highway 61 in both style and atmosphere. That's not to say they don't share some common bond, they are still obviously the work of the same man at roughly the same time, but whereas Highway 61 was rollicking, vibrant and incisive this album feels far more relaxed, dense and enveloping. If one may temporarily forget the musical connotations, listening to this album does seem evocative of sitting in a smoke-filled velvet underground. Obviously, this is down to the switch in personnel and location as it is undoubtedly the country training of the musicians that swaps coldness for warmth, incision for bluntness and vitriol for numbness. If Highway 61 documented Dylan snorting coke in Manhattan, Blonde on Blonde was the sound of him stoned and wasted on fortified home-brew with his newly acquired bumpkin band. Whereas "Like a Rolling Stone" and "Ballad of a Thin Man" are vicious put-downs of rivals, and "From a Buick 6" and "Tombstone Blues" are paranoid garage rockers, "Visions of Johanna" and "Stuck Inside of Memphis with the Memphis Blues Again" are murky, dense tales of a surrealist limbo and "I Want You" and the classic "Just Like a Woman" are homely tales of love and romance with angelic arrangements. Naturally the country surroundings were not going to dent his general hatred of women so he still fits on a couple of misogynistic classics - "Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat" and "Most Likely You Go Your Way and I'll Go Mine". The latter features a great driving brass-filled arrangement whilst the former, concerning a vacuous woman, contains the hilariously vitriolic put-down "if you want to see the sun rise, honey I know where - we'll go out and see it some day, we'll both just sit there and stare". Despite the obvious brilliance of this album, which is remarkably consistent for a double, it does begin with an utterly bizarre side-step. I guess "Rainy Day Women Nos 12 & 35" (inexplicably regarded as a greatest hit) is intended to sound like some wasted country knees-up, which it does to some extent, but quite why such a weak and insubstantial track was chosen to begin such a strong and monumental album is beyond me and is perhaps, for those keeping score, the first sign of Bob's random obsession with releasing odd things at odd times. Indeed, there is even a second false start with the traditional blues of "Pledging My Time" which even incorporates Robert Johnson lyrics ("some joker got lucky, but it was an accident"). There is little doubt, though, that the four songs that follow are amongst Bob's all-time classic material. The lengthy, rambling and utterly beguiling duo of "Visions of Johanna" and "Stuck Inside of Mobile" are doused in Dylan's dense lyrical imagery, cloaked by the laconic band and encompassed by the murky atmosphere. "I Want You", on the other hand, is a sprightly pop tune, with deliberately obscure lyrics and a middle-eight which popular music would not quite be the same without. "One of Us Must Know" is more wistful, both lyrically and musically, and further evidence that Bob could knock out pure pop music to match anyone who dared challenge. As well as the devastatingly beautiful "Just Like a Woman" (complete with notorious vocal delivery) "4th Time Around" is an underrated gem with guitar picking sounding akin to a mandolin. As with Highway 61 Revisited Bob ends the album with a ten minute plus acoustic epic, "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands". Thankfully, it easily matches the eternal grace of "Desolation Row" and is as mesmerising composition as I've ever heard. Its lyrical imagery is, naturally, astonishingly evocative and the musical canter and devastating delivery are divine. As with the case for the whole album, it is hard to believe that it was written by a young man in his mid-twenties. Obviously some of the more light-weight songs are unambiguous in revealing the author's emotions but the likes of "Just Like a Woman", "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands" and "Visions of Johanna" are of another time and place and are impossible to mundanely attach to a normal human being. Personally, I'm always in favour of ambitious double albums by artists at their peak and Dylan was forward-thinking enough to know how to best cash in his ability with the greatest possible artistic success. Put it this way: when the apocalypse comes and humanity has to divvy up its greatest achievements this album will be pretty near the top.

Dylan's dramatic escape from the stuffy confines of folk was not an affair solely documented on vinyl. As well as the controversy of his three electric albums Dylan's accompanying promotional tour, with what would become The Band in tow, was notoriously antagonistic. The moment in the shows when Dylan wheeled on the full band was a direct focal point for the traditionalist folkies to air their grievances. Levon Helm even quit the tour mid-way through because he was so sick of the jeers and boos they were receiving. Surprisingly, it was not just Dylan's Greenwich Village cast-offs that confronted him. Even in Britain, with a far more developed music scene pioneered by the likes of the Beatles and Stones, people turned up at his gigs to boo. Of course, the catalyst for the controversy was his attempts to play an electric set at the Newport folk festival the previous year which was eventually foiled by the irate organisers cutting the power cables. This concert, a year on, is famous in its inaccuracy. When initially bootlegged it was usually labelled as a gig at London's Royal Albert Hall but, in fact, was performed at Manchester's Free Trade Hall. The main reason for the clamour surrounding this gig is that towards the end of the second half of the concert, the confrontational electric set, amongst the jeering and slow handclapping someone cries out "Judas!" and is applauded for his efforts. We can only imagine the withering look Dylan returned but we can certainly appreciate his spoken retort - "I don't believe you... you're a liar.. (turning to his band) play fucking loud" and they then rip into an astonishingly powerful version of "Like a Rolling Stone" to end the gig. Thankfully, it is not just the legend attached to his gig that gives this recording its worth as the concert itself, split over two discs and two sets - the first solo acoustic and the second electric, is a genuinely fantastic experience. Dylan's performance is top notch and, although the band are hardly super-tight, the electric songs are both intriguing and powerful. It is unsurprising, then, that Columbia remastered the tapes and released this excellent package in 1998 as the fourth instalment in the Bootleg Series (the other parts reviewed further down the page). It ain't normally that cheap but it is worth every penny. The sound quality is excellent, absolutely perfect, and you can almost feel the magic of the concert as it is abundantly clear Dylan's tour was pushing back boundaries and making history. The first set is obviously not that revolutionary, although his lyrics were certainly out-of-this-world (in both senses), but he still performs marvellously. His singing voice is at its peak, although still a little nasal at times (something he managed to avoid in his early studio releases), and the way he draws out the arrangements is frequently brilliant. He also places more emphasis on his harmonica, with mixed results. He still can't play it very well but the way he draws out notes is used almost as one might use guitar feedback and is, therefore, an extremely novel approach. Interestingly, none of the acoustic songs come from his four folk albums with one from Highway 61 ("Desolation Row") and three apiece from Bringing it All Back Home and the only-just-released Blonde on Blonde (I believe it came out the same week this gig was played). Anyhow, the highlights of the first side are probably the way he draws out "Visions of Johanna" to give it more of a theatrical reading, the story-telling beauty of "Fourth Time Around" and the extended, harmonica dominated, version of "Mr. Tambourine Man". Whilst the first half is perfectly enjoyable the shit really hits the fan on the second disc. We can only imagine that the bitter attacks from sections of the audience inspired Bob on to give such an impassioned performance of his material. It is also interesting that not many greatest hits are played, "Like a Rolling Stone" aside, as Bob obviously took great pleasure in twisting his original folk songs into sharp electric shocks with which to return the taunts. "I Don't Believe You" is a vitriolic sneer of a song and never has the line "you're right from your side and I'm right from mine" on "One Too Many Mornings" sounded more appropriate. Of course, it only seemed that the folkies were right because they were, as history proves, utterly butterly wrong. It is testament to both Dylan's perseverance and his artistic intuition that he pressed on in the face of such opposition as he was proved to be doing the right thing, both for himself and popular music in general. Interestingly, the versions of the songs that were originally electric, "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues", "Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat" and "Ballad of a Thin Man", are noticeably weaker than their studio counterparts which is presumably most down to the sloppy band performances. Along with "I Don't Believe You" and "One Too Many Mornings" "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down" is also given a great full-band rendition. The set opens with an unofficially released number, "Tell Me, Momma", which is another excellent effort and perfectly sets up the shoot-out between Dylan and disgruntled audience. It is only fair to add, however, that some of the crowd are actually on Dylan's side and are brave enough to applaud the songs and cheer his witty retorts. Certainly they can give themselves a pat on the back for being open-minded and forward-thinking enough to realise the true brilliance of Dylan's approach. Furthermore, not only were they present to witness history being made they were also, and not coincidently, at a great gig by a great performer. Thankfully, in that respect, they're no longer a lucky minority.

A cloud of mystery surrounds Dylan's activities and state-of-mind in the almost-two year gap between Blonde on Blonde and his successive studio release John Wesley Harding. As far as I know, whilst at the peak of his fame Dylan crashed his motorbike and, although not seriously injured, was obviously a bit shook up or whatever and retreated to some country estate and married his girlfriend Sara (more about her later). During his recuperation he collaborated again with The Band (more about that later) and it is clear from those recordings that he had quite obviously severely changed his musical outlook. Of course, the kids in the street had no idea what was going on and, hence, all sorts of strange rumours were doing the rounds (including reports of his death). More importantly, from the record company's point of view, it was getting on for almost a year with no new Dylan product on the market. Of course these days that's practically a blink of the eye in terms of record releases but back then it was an eternity. Therefore the record company knocked out a retrospective greatest hits collection which in no way fuelled the rumours that his career was over and that he was either dead or mute. Whilst it might not have been the greatest show of faith in Dylan's ability to continue making great albums this greatest hits compilation was a big seller and does make a handy pocket-guide to Dylan's early career. Even though it could not be known at the time it was actually a fairly accurate assumption that the first stage of Dylan's career was over and this compilation therefore stands as a decent overview of the first part of his journey. Of course the question undoubtedly on all of your lips is why do I own this album? As it happens, this is actually the CD that I've kept hold of since childhood when I first got into Dylan. Obviously when I acquired all of his first seven albums one would presume this CD lost its use but it does contain a track not available on any official studio album and also one of his definitive greatest hits - "Positively 4th Street". Recorded at around the time of Highway 61 Revisited it almost matches "Like a Rolling Stone" with its swirling organ and bitter, vitriolic put-downs of his rivals (most likely to be the old folk scene). Like the aforementioned "Like a Rolling Stone" Dylan's vocal delivery is at its coolest but still spat out with obvious venom, including the classic opening line - "you've got a lot of nerve to say you are my friend" and the classic closing line - "I wish that for just one day you could stand in my shoes/then you'd know what a drag it is to see you". As far as I know the track-listing for this compilation was later changed, or at least two different versions exist simultaneously, and the alternative to this one, unfortunately, does not include "Positively 4th Street" (and has far more Bringing it All Back Home material on it). If you are desperate to hear "Positively 4th Street" (so much so that you're willing to buy a whole CD for one song) then you'll be relieved to hear it is on loads of other Dylan compilations - the Biograph box set, The Best of Bob Dylan Vol. 2 and The Essential Bob Dylan to name but three. Anyway, if you do want an introduction to just Dylan's early career (after all, his whole career is too large to be covered adequately by a single CD) then this does a pretty fine job. All the hits are included ("Blowin' in the Wind", "The Times They Are a-Changin'", "Like a Rolling Stone", Mr. Tambourine Man, etc.) along with a few less momentous, but no less brilliant, releases like Another Side's "It Ain't Me Babe" and "I Want You" (from Blonde on Blonde). Unsurprisingly nothing is included from his mediocre debut and the only real mis-step is track chosen to open this compilation - "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35". I've criticised it elsewhere but, to repeat, I simply cannot comprehend how this song is popular enough to be considered a greatest hit. That baffling inclusion aside everything else on here is a real gem, especially "Positively 4th Street". You could argue this compilation has been usurped by the more comprehensive double CD packages and I can't see why one would not like to own all of the electric trio (three of the best albums ever) but, on the cheap, this is certainly a decent enough compilation for the would-be Dylan fan.

So Dylan was on top of the world in 1966. A pioneer and genius in equal measure and a man, seemingly, with the musical world at his feet. The majority of 1967 went by, one of the single greatest years for album releases ever. Sgt. Pepper, Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Forever Changes, Are You Experienced?, Velvet Underground and Nico all came and went and yet nothing from Dylan save rumours of him collaborating with The Band in a basement somewhere. Eventually, after eighteen months of inactivity, and a motorcycle crash, in the very last week of such a seminal year for popular music Dylan released this. And this is not what was expected. The whole album is just so different and tangential to Blonde on Blonde that one struggles to know what to make of it. Certainly it makes more sense when placed at the beginning of a series of albums that would peak with Blood on the Tracks in 1975. The most noticeable difference is the singing. Whilst on the last three studio albums Dylan's voice was at its best, cool and alluring, making him seem like the coolest man on the planet, here he's adopted a croaky, old man's voice with the tunes to match. There's rumours that the motorcycle accident damaged his voice but it seems unlikely. My guess is that Dylan just tired of being such a cool popular icon and turned his back on the whole thing, just like he turned his back on folk a few years earlier. Instead of the lush arrangements and deep lyrical ruminations of Blonde on Blonde this album consists of the most minimal of musical approaches, the basic dynamics of guitar/bass/drums, and obscure country-influenced tales concerning the dregs of society - outlaws, hobos, immigrants and the like. If you are only familiar with Bob's mid-sixties peak then I imagine the contents of this album will come as a rather cruel shock. It is almost impossible to imagine that this is the same person that recorded Blonde on Blonde only a year older. It is possibly one of the most bizarre twists in the history of popular music. When I originally reviewed this I admit I gave it rather short shrift. However, after a long, long time and with a wider palette of music I have come to properly enjoy the merits of this album. I STILL would not rank it among his greatest albums, as so many other people seem to, but it is very definitely on the second tier. Once you can get past the change in direction, and voice in particular, there is much to admire. The stripped down arrangements create a truly unique ambience with the self-conscious minimalism matching the modesty of the lyrics. It is certainly the case that the man who so gleefully bragged and goaded his rivals has calmed down and taken stock of things following his brush with death. It is hard to fit this album into an inclusive genre but it draws mainly on elements from both folk and country. The likes of the title track and "I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine" are sparse variations on the rural aspects of folk and country, sounding almost like traditional tunes from centuries ago. Indeed, many of the songs sound out-of-time and certainly a million years away from the psychedelic counter-culture scene of 1967. Reference merely to the fact Dylan had moved out to the countryside does not do justice to the switch as Blonde on Blonde had, of course, also been recorded out in Nashville. It definitely seems like a changed outlook on life as well as music made Dylan re-route his career. Indeed, the album ends on its most extreme note, and in doing so pre-empts the following release, with the pure country ballad "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight". It has actually turned out to be something of a cabaret classic but Bob's croon is hardly lounge-core material. Of course, if all this country malarkey ain't your cup of tea you can at least draw comfort from the fact one bona fide greatest hit is included on here - the infamous "All Along the Watchtower". It would be churlish to deny Hendrix recorded the definitive version but that should never detract from the formidable quality of Bob's own (after all, there must have been a reason for Hendrix's cover). Furthermore, the harmonica solos in place of the guitar ones do not at all subtract from the song and perfectly support the atmosphere of the song (not least when it sounds like the "howling wind"). It is also worth noting that the piano based "Dear Landlord" is something of an underrated gem and is indicative of the future direction explored on 1970's New Morning. I can understand a Dylan novice finding this album inaccessible, particularly going from the mid-sixties electric albums, but it is worth persevering with as, not least, it is a fascinating window into the enigma that is Bob Dylan - a man who was one year ago releasing Blonde on Blonde. From now on we're dealing with an all together different entity.

One can only imagine the reactions of the sixties hipsters who trotted into the record stores in 1969, unswayed by the sideways step of John Wesley Harding, still expecting another Blonde on Blonde, and saw the new Bob Dylan album was called Nashville Skyline, featured a picture of Bob dressed up like a country and western star, included a duet with Johnny Cash and had song titles like "Country Pie" and "Peggy Day". It is best not even thinking about their reactions when they actually first listened to it. In fact, with albums like this Bob has almost achieved the paradoxical situation of his intentional demystifying process only adding further to his bizarre mystique. Few singer-songwriters in popular music go from iconic musical legend to humble country and western singer in the space of three years. Whereas John Wesley Harding had still retained elements of intriguing artistic innovation this album is simply pure country music - no more, no less. Thankfully, this is the Bobster we're talking about so it is still interesting and of a sporadically high quality. It is clear, though, that Bob did not want to portray any allusions to grandeur with this album, nothing as serious as "All Along the Watchtower" or ten minute epics, as it only just manages to exceed 30 minutes in total running length and many of the songs go by in less than three minutes. "Peggy Day" and "Country Pie" are absolutely nothing more than off-the-cuff comic country numbers and we are even treated to his first ever instrumental track - "Nashville Skyline Rag". Whilst such numbers are certainly essential in Dylan's plan to shed his serious artist reputation they are also, understandably, the weak links in the album. Some people might find them quite fun, and they obviously are not filler in the usual sense, but I find few positives to take from them. On the other hand, there is something inherently amusing in the utterly misplaced duet between Bob and country legend Johnny Cash on his classic "Girl from the North Country". I almost feel sorry for Cash as it almost sounds like Bob is taking the piss, singing his old classic in such a silly voice, whilst Cash manfully tries to make something out of Bob's pseudo-self-parody. Of course Cash is one cool dude but it is a real shame that he decided to collaborate with Bob during his deliberately least-cool phase. Like John Wesley Harding Bob does manage to include another greatest hit on this album in the form of "Lay Lady Lay". To be honest, it is hardly my favourite Dylan number but it certainly proves that Bob was capable of writing good country ballads if he could be bothered. Similarly, the superior "I Threw it All Away" is a serious country ballad with brilliant, regretful lyrics from Dylan and a suitably wistful vocal performance. The third highlight to take home is the final "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You" which is more upbeat than the previous two and with another strong melody and impressive lyrics. I also like "Tell Me it isn't True" which does almost as much as the previous three in ensuring this album is a decent enough effort, regardless of the sincerity of Dylan's motivation. One has to remember that back when rock was young to release an album like this was a radical and completely unheard of step and, again, shows just how pioneering Dylan was as an artist. In a funny way, there is something very weighty about such an intentionally slight album. In any case, at least half the album is still really good and even the silly throwaway numbers are not bad as such. When listening to them, though, you can't help but think Dylan is laughing as much at you as he is with you. When it comes to rock stars trying their hands at country one can't help but feel Gram Parsons was somewhat more successful.

This album has always intrigued me. It is often regarded as one of Dylan's worst ever albums, but, on the other hand, I've also seen cautious recommendations. Certainly, a double album packed with obscure covers sounds like an intriguing prospect. On the other hand, I was pessimistic when I purchased this. I was half expecting a drab, tepid affair making it a real struggle to listen to the whole thing in one sitting. I am, however, delighted to report even after familiarising myself with it, it still remains an intriguing album. It isn't a particularly good album by any stretch of the imagination but it is certainly more interesting than, say, his debut album and perhaps even the superior Planet Waves. I wouldn't stretch to saying it was a good album but I really can't see how it deserves the pannings it receives (although for an hilarious drubbing of it take a look at Steven Knowlton's review at Steve and Abe's Record Reviews). It is often regarded as the final step in Dylan's de-mystifying process started on John Wesley Harding and continued with Nashville Skyline. Some people treat this claim with some scepticism but it is alright by me. It still doesn't make it very good but it means it retains its interest. The album cover also gets a bit of a panning (a self-portrait by Dylan) but I think it fits in nicely with the concept of the album. Indeed, celebrity art critic Matthew Collings actually regards it as the greatest album cover ever. I think one of the best aspects of this album is the arrangement. Again this is a source of controversy with critics occupying the far ends of the spectrum but I wave towards the praise side. Most of it is nicely understated, like a cross between John Wesley Harding, Nashville Skyline and the subsequent New Morning. At times he even uses strings to complement his arrangements which I think is basically the only time Dylan attempted such a trick. In fact, it is a shame he didn't attempt it more often as I think it really elevates some of the songs. The cover of "Copper Kettle" is certainly elevated by the strings on the chorus, whilst the only really good original on here, "Belle Isle", also uses strings. I guess the live performances of "Like a Rolling Stone" and "She Belongs to Me" also count as originals although the performances of them are distinctly lack-lustre, particularly the former, and there is no good reason why they are included on here. Similarly, the original "Alberta" is a nice, relaxed blues number but two versions of it on one album again seems unnecessary. I don't really see why this had to be a double album but I guess that adds to the intrigue surrounding this album. Actually, I forgot about the rollicking "Mighty Quinn" which is also a good original. I think he recorded a version during the Basement Tapes sessions but, for whatever reason, it was not included on the subsequent official release. There are also some decent covers on here (other than "Copper Kettle"). "Days of 49" is a sort of cowboy song and, although poorly rehearsed, still carries some feel of menace. "Early Mornin' Rain" and "Gotta Travel On", although quite unlike anything else Dylan recorded, still move along nicely. There is an almighty wad of filler on here, though. He sometimes resorts to his Nashville Skyline squeaky croon for the numbers like "Blue Moon" and none of them are particularly good. A couple of instrumentals, "Woogie Boogie" and "Wigwam", are also poor and unnecessary. His cover of Paul Simon's "The Boxer" (probably the most famous cover) is utterly insipid, although it shouldn't be discounted that it might have been a piss-take. The worst two numbers on the album, though, are "In Search of Little Sadie" and the baffling reprise "Little Sadie". Both are truly terrible songs. You wonder how a man of Bob's genius could even have been able to write such awful songs, there's no melody, no structure, just a headache inducing whine about "1st degree" and "2nd degree". It (or they) is certainly up there as the worst song he ever wrote. But, overall, the rest of the album ain't all bad. I wouldn't dream of recommending this to a Dylan novice as it is bound to poison their view of him, but for fans like me (and perhaps you) this is certainly an intriguing listen, if not actually that good.

With Dylan's demystification complete, with both critics and his own fanbase turning on him following the release of Self Portrait, he was finally free of the shackles of expectation. The result is a fairly modest album, far more piano based than any of his others, with quiet, introspective songs that actually succeed in making this album probably the best since Blonde on Blonde all those years ago (in fact only four but it sure seems a lot longer). Like many of his albums the artwork is strongly indicative of the nature of the album with Dylan portraying himself as a humble, introspective singer-songwriter, again out of step with the times, as the music scene was rife with bombastic progressive and hard rock. In terms of genre, this album probably forms a composite of the previous three releases with folk and country acting as the mainstay of the arrangements, only with far more emphasis on the piano as primary instrument. As well as most of the numbers being of a good standard there are four quasi-classics on this album, three of which have hardly been heard of by most people. The opening "If Not for You" has gotten the Greatest Hits material on the odd compilation and is a perfectly pleasant country-influenced ditty. It is also noticeable that the lyrics show distinct signs of Godliness, possibly for the first time in his career. Perhaps the best song on the album is the title track which is a humble yet joyous celebration of life with understated back-up from some gospel singers. In fact such a touch is representative of the album as a whole. Most of the songs have nice little flourishes that accentuate the beauty of the music, be it the female harmonies on the likes of "New Morning" or "Sign on the Window", the tinkling organ on "The Man in Me" or the steel guitar of "If Not for You". Perhaps the best arranged of all the songs on the album is the deeply affecting "Sign on the Window". The lyrics are surprisingly modest and sincere, particularly during the middle-eight where he ruminates on the humble pleasures of life, and the way the chorus rests only on escalating female harmonies is an inspired touch. Finally, in the underrated classics stake, is the superb "The Man in Me". I ain't gonna lie to you so I'm forced to admit I basically bought this album on the basis of hearing the latter song in the excellent film The Big Lebowski (best comedy of the nineties, say I). Kudos to the Coen brothers for being astute enough to pluck such an obscure song from an obscure album and give it the exposure it deserves. To be honest, you might not even recognise it as one of Dylan's given it is wholly untypical both in the unmisogynistic lyrics and the brilliant introduction of "la-la-la"'s. Certainly this album is worth it just for those four numbers, all of which, to some extent, deserve wider exposure with regards to his overall catalogue. I'd say something like "New Morning", for example, is definitely superior to "Lay Lady Lay" or "Forever Young". Obviously, due to the rating and my praise, most of the other songs are also pretty good. The early piano-based numbers, such as "Day of the Locusts" and "Time Passes Slowly", are pleasantly low-key and relaxing. Some of the slight numbers like "Winterlude" and "Three Angels" are hardly dynamite but the whole point of this album is to emphasis Dylan's new-found modesty and sincerity. The only real mis-step is the ludicrous and truly terrible "If Dogs Run Free". In brief, Bob narrates some ridiculous beat poetry whilst one of his female vocalists scats terribly over the top. I imagine there are few worse songs in his entire cannon, which is a shame as it mars an otherwise very good album. Not only is it out of place in terms of quality but it is also far more pretentious than everything else on here. The only other complaint is that the CD mastering is terrible, with the sound level much lower than usual, and the actual production is muddy and muffled. In a way, I guess it adds to the modest ambience of the album but I'd still rather to be able to hear what's going on a little better. Certainly, this album is the closest Dylan got to being an inherently humble and introspective singer-songwriter and, perhaps not coincidently, includes a handful of his best off-peak material (ie. between Blonde on Blonde and Blood on the Tracks). This is definitely the underrated gem in Dylan's labyrinthian diamond mine of a career.

Now we all know the best ever soundtrack to a western is Jon Bon Jovi's contribution to Young Guns 2: Blaze of Glory. Furthermore, there is a school of thought that claims Young Guns 2 is the best western ever. You see, the ones like Once Upon a Time in the West and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly just go on forever with those dragged-out shots of desert landscapes and the like. Young Guns 2 is ALL action and that's what counts. Plus, Christian Slater is the best actor ever. Funnily enough, I ain't seen the accompanying film for this album as I don't like westerns on account of them being so boring (Young Guns 2 apart) but apparently Dylan also acts (used in a weak sense) in it. Of course, one can speculate about Dylan's motives till the cows come home. Perhaps he fancied doing something odd again to further tarnish the memory of his mid-sixties greatness. Perhaps he did it merely as a favour to his friend, Sam Peckinpah, who directed it. Perhaps, and most likely, he fancied acting like a cowboy for a bit. Anyway, I'm not a massive fan of soundtracks either, if I want instrumentals I tend to go for jazz, but this is a relatively interesting effort and is interspersed with a few real songs. Well, I say a few but really there's only two. There is the classic "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" (isn't it funny how he managed to fit one greatest hit on every release?) and three variations, two of which are almost identical, of the same song - "Billy". As it happens, I quite like "Billy" as it is an enjoyable cowboy themed romp which you can imagine genuine cowboys singing round campfires. The 1 and 4 parts are quite up-tempo whilst the closing part 7, although using the same lyrics, is far more downbeat and low-key (I don't know where parts 2,3,5 and 6 went). Apparently "Billy 4" was recorded on set in Mexico City. Also, and rather surprisingly considering this is a rather insignificant release, Dylan managed to get quite a pool of musicians involved including, most notably, Booker T and Roger McGuinn. As for the instrumental side of the album, it is clear, as with any western soundtrack, Dylan was in the shadow somewhat of Ennio Morricone. There ain't any whistling but the pan pipes used prominently on "Final Theme" are surely a homage to Morricone's influence. At a push "Final Theme" is the most impressive instrumental track as the pan pipe moods give it dusk-like ambience and it is certainly the least repetitive. The "Main Title Theme" is also pretty impressive with its twanging guitar and prominent percussion. The instrumental tracks are at least noticeably different from each other, from the hicky banjo of "Turkey Chase" to the vocal harmonies on the lyric-less "River Theme". At the end of the day, though, most of it serves mainly as background music. Obviously it is the job of soundtrack music to be subtle, so it does not distract the viewer from what's going on in the film, and that is the reason soundtrack albums are usually less-than-interesting but this certainly does not make a hash of it. There's enough singing going on to maintain interest, and "Billy" is something of an underrated number, and Dylan just about strikes the right balance on the instrumentals between making them interesting and still subtle enough for them to remain in the background. It is hardly an essential release, though, and there is a reason it is one of a handful of his albums that are at a super low budget price.

With the seventies almost half-way through and with still no sign of Dylan attempting to match his former glories Bob took the nominal step of reuniting with The Band who, it will be remembered, backed him up as the Hawks on his seminal rock'n'roll tour of the mid-sixties and collaborated with him on the legendary "Basement" sessions of 1967. As well as a ramshackle tour, documented on Before the Flood released later in the year, the first official studio collaboration between Bob and The Band (at least until The Basement Tape's belated release a year later) therefore became this rather underwhelming effort. The electrifying rock'n'roll of the mid-sixties is obviously not reprised and, instead, Bob and The Band continue where they left off with the "Basement" sessions with an album full of laidback country-rock. It is not that is a poor album, it is actually reasonably good for the most part, but it does not appear to be the work of a special talent and there is barely anything particularly interesting about the entire set. Sure, we do get yet another isolated Greatest Hit, the funeral favourite "Forever Young" (although bafflingly and inappropriately reprised as a comedy number straight after the proper version has finished), but most of the material on here is merely pleasant country ramblings, traditional in style both musically and lyrically. Furthermore, I've never been a big fan of The Band and, at times, they seem to be woefully under-rehearsed. Robbie Robertson is a nothingness of a guitarist and, bar a couple of exceptions - the opening lead on "Going Going Gone" and the beautiful mandolin on "Forever Young", he just tinkles away purposelessly in the background along with Hudson's organ. There is a feeling, perhaps, that Bob is enjoying himself a bit more than usual, playing the whole lightweight country that saw Nashville Skyline lambasted, and he does rip through the likes of "On a Night Like This", "Tough Mama" and "Never Say Goodbye" (which Bon Jovi later covered) with undeniable energy. Unfortunately, this album is hardly a case of hooks-a-plenty and whilst it is perfectly pleasant to listen to, it hardly has you waking up in the morning and thinking "hmm, what I really want to listen to now is the unforgettable Planet Waves". Put it this way, there are more memorable albums in his career than this one, regardless of its decent-ish quality. The second half of the album is at least interesting in indicating what was on the horizon for Bob with the unambiguously desperate, morose pleas to his wife - "Dirge" and "Wedding Song". Both get rather a bad rap, critically, but at least both are interesting, not to mention sincere, and the former, in particular, has some beauty in its bleakness. The only other particularly atmospheric number is the somewhat underrated "Going, Going, Gone" with its gloomy lyrics and arrangement. Even so, the highlights on this album are not particularly high ("Forever Young" apart) and, although there is nothing embarrassingly poor on it, the consistency makes for nothing more than a pleasant drone of light-weight country rock. Furthermore, if this was the best support The Band could offer then Dylan might as well saved his royalty cheques. On the other hand, I guess it gave the record company a straw to clutch to in trying to drum up interest in their dwindling star. As Neil Young once sang "it is easy to get caught up in the past when you try to make a good thing last" and, although Dylan was to produce a second peak in his career, it was not through futile attempts to recreate past glories. If Dylan was accused of losing his muse (as Bowie did on "Song for Bob Dylan") there are signs on here, albeit retrospectively, that Bob's passions were to be stirred once more.

From: Duncan Martin and Samantha Rapoport

Let's not get carried away and say you don't like The Band (who other than Robbie Robbertson, Garth Hudson, Paul Butterfield, and a handful of others enabled Bob to mature musically?)....Or would you prefer to immortalize Bob Dylan as a one-dimensional icon of the 60's that 'spoke for a generation' and then failed them. That's just silly.
But that is my opinion. Now for what really matters-- How can you sit at your computer and type away making presumptions and assertations that clearly are based in your impressions of an era that I'm not even sure you experienced. Moreover, you are discussing an individual person as if he were a carefully calculated being that had a responsibility to cater to an expectant audience. Nobody can control his or her public reception. You talk of Planet Waves' thinly veiled attempt to revive past glory. Are these songs not beautiful? Are they not a true artistic collaboration of musicians who recognised their incredible dynamic? I could go on. I don't want to go on though, except to say, please spare Bob the honour of the adjective 'good'. If you claim expertise on the poetic quality of Bob's songwriting, it should be clear to you that 'good' is a hollow and empty qualifier. You, my friend, are a 'good' reviewer.

Almost ten years had passed since Dylan's last artistic triumph and he looked to be irredeemably lost to the ages. A sixties relic out-of-place and out-of-shape in the more ambitious and more cynical seventies. Ironically, the unspectacular Planet Waves pre-empted a popular comeback of sorts and became his first number one album. Furthermore the resulting tour with the Band became the biggest selling in music history. Still, though, many traditional fans were far from content with the years of churning out intelligent but distinctly unspectacular country rock and most of the critics had turned their back on him long ago. It was not just a case of unambitious musical advances but Dylan as a lyricist was roundly criticised. The bare fact is, they said, he has got nothing left to say. Hindsight is a generous thing but, really, who was to blame them? Bar maybe New Morning what was Bob Dylan doing? To talk of rivalries would be unfair and inaccurate but a peer such as Neil Young was releasing On the Beach the same year Bob tossed out Planet Waves - a decent album but nothing worth noting bar the classic "Forever Young". Although it could not have been known at the time the bitter, regretful love songs thrown on at the end of Planet Waves pointed to something far greater. It is often said that a happy artist is never a great artist and this album is more than adequate support. Dylan's marriage was on the rocks, his wife was on the verge of leaving for good, and one too many sarcastic jibes had been thrown his way. Dylan exploded with rage, bitterness, regret, desperation, loneliness and a wistful realisation of loss all packed into one of his greatest ever albums. A timeless masterpiece dealing with and documenting the universal pain and bitter rage of a broken heart. It doesn't matter if you've never been in love, it doesn't matter if you've never had your heart broken, any human being can feel the pain of this album. One of the most remarkable aspects of this album is in the lyrics. Bar the odd metaphorical excursions nearly every song features thoroughly unpretentious and straight-forward lyrical accounts. From the unambiguous pleas to his soon-to-be-departed wife, "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go", "If You See Her, Say Hello" and "You're a Big Girl Now", to the immaculate story-telling gems, "Tangled Up in Blue", "Simple Twist of Fate", not a word is wasted and one can only marvel at the vivid images and genuine emotions he accurately communicates. The musical arrangements are still quite country dominated but the melodies are, finally, absolutely peerless throughout, easily matching Blonde on Blonde almost a decade ago. In fact, the country band he recruited, Deliverance, were an after-thought. He recorded demos of most songs in purely acoustic form, widely bootlegged and hailed to be even greater than the finished product, before seeing Deliverance live one night and deciding on-the-spot that he should record the album with their assistance. As it happens, it is unlikely that Deliverance were responsible for any real decrease in quality. The full version of "Idiot Wind" may be slightly worse than the demo included on the Bootleg Series Vol. 2 but that is more because the beauty of the regretful and wistful acoustic version is even more awesome than the bitter rage of the studio rendition. If anything Deliverance aid the studio take with the swirling organ matching that of "Positively 4th Street" or "Like a Rolling Stone". It is also noticeable that the minimalist arrangements echo those on John Wesley Harding with only an additional steel guitar and organ being present. Certainly they are far less cluttered than the ill-prepared mess of Planet Waves. At the end of the day, though, the greatness of this album comes down simply to the songs. The vivid story-telling of "Tangled Up in Blue" is widely hailed as one of his finest moments and the fact that in less than six minutes you feel like you've watched a two hour film speaks volumes for the vivid imagery and the realisation of the characters and scenarios. Even superior, and the closest to being an underrated number on such a famous album, is my all-time favourite Dylan song - "Simple Twist of Fate". The story of a resigned one-night stand is heart-breaking in itself but the switch, in the final verse, to a comparison with Dylan's own situation is nothing short of devastating. The two saddest and most beautiful songs on the album are undoubtedly "You're a Big Girl Now" and the painfully unambiguous "If You Say Her, Say Hello". The arrangements on both are peerless, with a beautiful cascading piano line on the former and a tearful mandolin on the latter. In terms of sincerity I swear the latter used to bring a tear to my eye when I was a whole twelve years old. I kid you not. The most metaphorical account on the album is "Shelter from the Storm" which, superficially, recounts another story but, in fact, plays on various analogies with Dylan discovering God. "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go" and "Buckets of Rain" are bursts of weary resignation whilst the only two numbers on the album to fall below masterpiece standard are the twanging country of "Meet Me in the Morning" and the overly long "Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts" given the repetition of the arrangement and the uninvolving narrative. Even so, both numbers would have been best tracks on every other album since Blonde on Blonde. Although Dylan was understandably down when he released this he must have taken some comfort from the fact that he was most definitely back on the scene and all the doubters and naysayers were forced to chow down on some humble pie. After almost a decade of inconsistent and inconsequential releases Dylan had finally proved he was the master after all and not just some has-been relic of the sixties. As for this album, whereas the mid-sixties milestones suggested a talent out-of-this-world Dylan could not come across as any more human and vulnerable than he does on here. It is albums like this that exemplify what art is to humanity.

From: Ben Pickard

Great review! What I like is that this is a well established album, but you offered some genuinely interesting insights that I hadn't encountered before. As you said, even if you've never been in love, had your heart broken, any human being can feel the pain of this album. I think "Idiot Wind" is one of the greatest songs ever written, with lyrics that are almost unbearably bitter : "It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe". Man, I'd hate to be on he receiving end of lines like that! "Tangled Up In Blue" is a bunch of stories that are all quite engaging. "You're A Big Girl Now" is almost as heartbreaking as "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go". Just a fantastic album, and quite addictive if you are in the right mood. 10/10

With Dylan back in the sight and minds of the record-buying public Bob and the record company decided it was time to beat those cheeky bootleggers at their own game. For years they had been getting rich by selling hawked tapes of the infamous "Basement" sessions Dylan had secretly recorded back in 1967 with The Band, who had yet to release their debut album. Enough was enough for Dylan and soon after the release of his autumnal masterpiece he selected twenty-four tracks from the sessions which were spread over a double vinyl (and CD) release. One might quibble why I have not ignored the incidental release date and reviewed this back in the 1967 position but, as well as wanting to retain a sense of following his career externally (from the record buyer's point of view), there are interesting trends set by this album that can only be extracted retrospectively. In effect, the unpretentious country rock that appeared out of the blue on John Wesley Harding at the fag-end of 1967 and peaked with Blood on the Tracks in 1975 began with these sessions. Of course, Blonde on Blonde had a country flavour to it at times but, like John Wesley Harding, the music on here is on a whole different plane, with a far more traditional and old-fashioned edge. Not only does this material represent the missing link between Blonde on Blonde and John Wesley Harding, it also reveals the foundations that were to lead to Blood on the Tracks all those years later. Due to the mythical status of these recordings this album has become something of a cult classic and hardcore Dylan fans like to appear even more hardcore by claiming this to be some of the best material he ever produced. In fact, only the spine-tingling "Tears of Rage" reaches masterpiece status but there are still loads of hidden delights on here, mixed in with a bit of chaff. Unfortunately, this double CD compilation is nowhere near the complete picture and, although it remains very good, the bootleggers were not beaten just yet. There is still a roaring trade in passing on the vast chunks of material that Dylan left off this album. Obviously some of the off-the-cuff joke numbers need not be exhumed but there are classics like "Mighty Quinn" that were left off this release. One would like to think that one day the complete sessions will be documented but until then this (and the extensive bootlegs) will have to do. Perhaps a rather surprising consequence of the sessions is the number of songs on here that became hits for other people. There was "Mighty Quinn" of course, as well as "This Wheel's on Fire" and the Byrds popularised (and perhaps improved) "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" and "Nothing Was Delivered" which served as bookends for Sweetheart of the Rodeo. Certainly, few people could have been that surprised by this release given it must rank as one of the worst kept secrets in popular music (just behind the fact that Elvis is still alive). Once you are familiar with Dylan's 1967-75 phase the style of the material on here will not come as much of a shock. The most noticeable aspect is the fact that most of this material is superior to the rest of his officially released country rock. The likes of "Odds and Ends", "Million Dollar Bash", "Too Much of Nothing" and "Crash on the Levee" are all chirpy country numbers ripped through with undeniable energy and all contain superior hooks to his usual country fare. Other than those, highlights on the first half include the aching ballads "Goin' to Acapulco" and "Tears of Rage" whilst the second side contains the two Byrds' hits "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" and "Nothing Was Delivered", both of which are quite alright in their original form. As well as a few negligible off-the-cuff numbers by Dylan the lapses over the two discs usually come with The Band's contributions. Robert Manuel's "Katie's Been Gone" is a nice aching ballad and the Rick Danko co-written "This Wheel's on Fire" is a deserved classic but the few sole Band efforts are nothing special. Finally, I'm bemused as to why "Clothes Line Saga" is so revered given it is amazingly one-dimensional, both lyrically and musically. I guess people like the post-modern nature of a song about nothing sung and performed like it is about nothing. Actually, I suppose it is quite beguiling in its own funny way. Anyway, I would not go so far as to say this overall compilation is up there with Dylan's best but it certainly deserves its cult status. There are loads of little nuggets that are simply incomparable to his officially released works. It also acts, of course, as an intriguing historical document, tying Blonde on Blonde and John Wesley Harding together and laying the groundwork for Blood on the Tracks. It is just a shame The Band's material isn't always up to scratch and that the entire sessions are not covered, or at least all of the classic material was not included.

Four years after the Live 1966 double CD set the Bootleg Series reaches Vol. 5 with this further double CD documenting Dylan's infamous Rolling Thunder Revue tour. The original live album Hard Rain was the previous record of it but apparently it consisted of recordings from the second, dilapidated leg of the tour whereas this CD clearly captures Dylan and his crew feverously revelling in the fresh and unexplored artistic excitement of the ramshackle pig circus. Strictly speaking, the tour featured a plethora of other performers (although Dylan was always the figure-head) including poetry readings (Ginsberg was on board, I believe) but this compilation concentrates solely on Dylan's performances. Unlike the Live 1966 album, the songs on here were not recorded during one single night but are patched together from various shows (although from a concentrated time period). Of course, this isn't an ethical problem as it is the aim of the compilation to document a whole tour (or part of it) rather than a one-off gig. The occasional fading out at the end of songs means it is brash enough to ignore any wilful deception. As for the tour itself, it took place in between the releases of Blood On the Tracks and Desire, and therefore in the middle of Dylan's second peak, although Desire had already been recorded before Dylan set out. His band probably threatened to overcrowd the stage, such was the sheer number of musicians involved, and there are countless guitarists involved (including Mick Ronson of Bowie fame). Scarlet Rivera, violinist for Desire is also present and correct, as is Joan Baez who performs a few duets with his royal Bobness. Amazingly, the arrangements themselves never sound overcrowded but just perfectly full. The clarity of production for this release is also commendable with every individual instrument audible but still giving holistic backing to Dylan's vocals. As for Dylan's vocals, they aren't as strong as the Albert Hall gig although they pretty much match his efforts on the two studio albums sandwiching the tour. He does slip (or wander) out of tune on some of the acoustic numbers and his duets with the pitch-perfect Joan Baez are always a good laugh. As the extensive sleeve-notes point out, it is clear that Dylan was revelling in his renewed story-telling minstrel role, as he puts plenty of panache and zip into the likes of "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carol", "Hurricane" and, in particular, "Isis". As always, his classic material from the sixties is either contorted by his big band or given the straight-up acoustic treatment. In the former case, "It Ain't Me, Babe" is given a reggae work-out (which averts disaster without striking gold), "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall" is twisted into a rock jig, and "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, it Takes a Train to Cry" is played hard and fast, like the version on the original Bootleg Series. Speaking of which, the beautiful "Mama You Been on My Mind" loses some of its beauty in a sped-up run-through. Two songs are noticeable improvements on their original form, though. The country ballad "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You" (from Nashville Skyline) is turned into a raucous show-opener and The Times They are a-Changin's dreary "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carol" is actually turned into an interesting song. The first CD closes with a fairly traditional, although still deeply impressive, rendition of "I Shall Be Released", with Baez on duet duties. The crux of this compilation, though, is the performances of his "second peak" material. "Tangled Up in Blue" is all acoustic and all great, whilst "A Simple Twist of Fate" (my all-time favourite Dylan song) perhaps, perhaps even improves on the original. The lyrics are altered, particularly the final verse, but it is only Dylan's grating vocals at the end that mar an otherwise faultless performance of a great, great song. Given that Desire had only just been recorded, and not yet released, these shows were the first chance Dylan had to perform the songs live. Therefore, the arrangements are pretty straight-forward and the lyrics are rarely tampered with. The strength of these performances, as the sleeve-notes again pre-empt me, is in the fact that Dylan and his band have really grown into the songs and rollick through them, brimming with confidence. The highlight for me is two even more sincere readings of "Oh, Sister" and "Sara" with Dylan's vocals really matching his part (although his wife actually joined the tour at a later stage). In second place comes the duet with Baez of the traditional folk song "The Water is Wide". If I'm less than enamoured with the reading of "Mama, You Been on My Mind" the beauty of the former more than makes up for it. The compilation ends with a real-life set-closer, a stunning rendition of "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" with completely different lyrics. As well as that bird Joan Baez, that Byrd Roger McGuinn gets in on the act and sings a whole verse himself, highlighting the free-for-all nature of the shows. Indeed, it seems those lucky enough to attend the real thing certainly got their money's worth. And now all Dylan fans can get their money's worth with this package. I hate sounding like an advert but there's no complaining about releases as good as this one.

After the artistic triumph of Blood on the Tracks Dylan had finally rediscovered his muse. Instead of treading water in a sea of unambitious country rock he was immediately inspired to explore new territories. Apparently he used to trawl the bohemian scene in New York constantly on the look out for new and interesting characters to collaborate with. Obviously this approach was taken to the extreme with the Rolling Thunder Revue's who's who cast-list of artisans and musicians. Before he set off on the tour, though, he wrote and recorded this album. For the first time he brought in a co-lyricist - playwright Jacques Levy. Whilst there is no doubt Levy's help does bring Dylan's story-telling ability to the fore I find it hard to believe Dylan was incapable of writing great lyrics all on his lonesome; particularly after the unambiguous success of Blood on the Tracks. Furthermore, Dylan ditched the sparse arrangements of the previous release and recruited all manner of bohemian musicians. Most prominent are the violinist, Scarlet Riveria, and the omnipresent female vocalist Emmylou Harris (also present on Gram Parson's solo albums) both of whom provide an interesting and innovative foil to Dylan's rough-and-ready vocals. That said, despite being as nasal and grating as usual Dylan's vocal performance on this album is probably his best since the mid-sixties and, finally, he sounds like the coolest man on the planet again (aided by the cover photo of him dressed like a pimp). As for the songs themselves, they form a rather obvious dichotomy between vivid stories and yet more unambiguous pleas to his departing wife. Furthermore, unlike, say, "A Simple Twist of Fate" or "Shelter from the Storm", there is no crossover between the stories and his own personal situation. He even half-appeases the veteran folkies by finally writing another straight-up protest song. Indeed, I'd venture the opening to this album is the best since the spine-tingling drum-crack on Highway 61 Revisited all those years ago. The opening build-up of strummed guitar and gypsy violin perfectly sets the scene before "Hurricane" bursts into life with the exhilarating cry "pistol shots ring out in the bar room night". From joining the song just after the murder, Dylan narrates the story of the great miscarriage of justice of black boxer Ruben Carter being set up by the racist authorities for a crime he did not commit and "sitting like Buddah in a ten foot cell" even while the album was released. Thankfully, the exposure granted to the case generated from opening a no. 1 album meant Carter was eventually freed, although, knowing the police, I'd be much surprised if anyone said sorry. Dylan's vitriolic delivery and cutting lyrics ("if you're black you might as well not show up on the streets 'less you wanna draw the heat", "doesn't it make you feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game?") give the track immense power and both the song and story are unforgettable. Ruben Carter should be grateful that Dylan was inspired to write such a great song for his cause, rather than some Planet Waves style country knock-off. The other song dealing with a real-life cause is the lengthy "Joey" about a "good" gangster who, amazingly and completely unfairly, gets gunned down by his rivals. Now I'm not as against it as some other Dylan fans, it might be long and slow but I like the flow of it, but, as is often pointed out, the lyrics are ridiculous. Alright, he might not have been Joe Pesci in Goodfellas but he was still a criminal who diddled his rivals out of money. Surprisingly people like that get arrested and murdered. It is almost a smear against Ruben Carter that we are supposed to give an innocent man imprisoned by institutionalised racism the same amount of sympathy as we give to a proponent of organised crime. I think the kindest assumption we can make is that he was a friend of Dylan's. Other than the "political" numbers there are two other excellent story-telling yarns with the cowboy-themed tale of grave-robbing "Isis" and the wonderfully tragic "Black Diamond Bay" which gives the account of a volcano erupting on a hedonistic island. The key to the latter song comes with the last verse where, with an existentialist sweep Sartre would be proud of, we switch to Bob having a beer and watching the news. From the despair and sympathy of the original situation we're now looking at exactly the same event but from a unrelated point of view ("seems like every time you turn around there's another hard luck story that you're gonna hear") and the events that seemed so real before just seem inconsequential. In terms of the songs to his ex-wife there is the pleasantly poppy "Mozambique", with a lovely middle-eight, the mournful and moving "Oh, Sister" (probably the second best song on the album, behind "Hurricane") with Emmylou's vocals at their most prominent and the disturbingly honest "Sara" right down to the admission "staying up for days in the Chelsea Hotel, writing 'Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands' for you". It is a little unfair, really, that Dylan can generate so much sympathy for himself as the jilted party when, of course, other than being an immensely difficult person he also had numerous affairs (no-one knows for sure how many illegitimate children he's fathered) without showing any signs of remorse (I imagine he's still at it now and it would not surprise me to learn that he failed to repent even during his fundamental Christian phase). The honest pleas to his wife serve to give this album an enviable balance and off-set the more bohemian and impersonal nature of his newly founded artistic ambitions. Certainly, on this album, Dylan sounds refreshed and reinvigorated and, thus, along with Blood on the Tracks and the Rolling Thunder tour, makes up something of a second peak for him.

The studio follow-up to Desire was two years in the making, although the live album Hard Rain did come out in the mean-time, and is often hailed as signalling the end of Dylan's brief comeback and dumping him back in the middle of the road. I've heard that the original mix of this album was rather poor and muddy and may go some way to explaining the criticism because I see no such problems with the CD reissue. The production is clear and strong and certainly no worse than Desire. Furthermore, the songs themselves are nearly all up to a high standard and the enormous backing band, containing many keyboards, prominent saxophone and backing singers, give the arrangements a fullness and melodic richness. Certainly I rank this album, along with New Morning, as an underrated gem hidden away in the dark recesses of Dylan's career. Stylistically, it is not a huge progression away from Desire with a mixture of story-telling yarns and desperate pleas to you-know-who, performed with a bohemian flourish. Dylan's vocals have deteriorated a little, pre-empting the nasal rasp of the eighties, and the lyrics and atmosphere are not as strong as on Desire but there are still plenty of memorable melodies and catchy hooks on most of the songs. "No Time to Think" features a lovely spiralling hook and strong melody, "Is Your Love in Vain?" and "True Love Tends to Forget" both rely on strong choruses whilst "Baby, Stop Crying" has become a deserved greatest hit of sorts. One might complain that a few of these songs are more like easy-listening cabaret numbers than revolutionary works of art but no-one complains about "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight" do they? It might be true to say that this album is more obviously aimed at the pop market than Desire and it is clearly far less artistically ambitious but it is more than adequate proof that Dylan still knew how to write melodies. Following on from "Sara" the songs to his (ex-)wife are as unambiguous as ever with the likes of "True Love Tends to Forget", "We Better Talk this Over" and "Where Are You Tonight" reading like pages from his own diary. However, whereas there was still a degree of dignity and sympathy on the previous two studio albums on here it has just become slightly awkward and embarrassing. Couldn't he have just written her a letter and then concentrated on some other subject matter for his actual songs? Thankfully, Bob's one-track mind does not completely dominate proceedings and he throws in a couple more story-telling numbers. The atmospheric "Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)" is a decent enough effort, although sub-Desire, and the opening "Changing of the Guards" is something of an epic and probably the most impressive piece, overall, on this album. The pace is relentless and Dylan moves the song along brilliantly with a succession of evocative images. The story is not that coherent, I ain't got the first clue what it is about, but the song itself is still perfectly memorable and enjoyable. Although the highs on here are obviously not as high as his second peak material there is stil