As album covers go, that is horrible. I know this was the mid '80s and taste had taken a sabbatical but, still, was there really no other option than to dress Bob in a jacket stolen from the set of Miami Vice and give design duties to a teenager let loose on a ZX Spectrum? Worst Dylan sleeve. Ever.
To the songs. Is this also the worst Dylan album - musically - that we've covered so far? Probably not. It has the same hit and miss rate as Self Portrait (50% decent, 50% dross) but Empire Burlesque would just get the nod for being a more coherent whole. That said, as Dylan albums go, it is not particularly good.
The biggest question for me is how much the production - once again - is the problem here. This is so 1980s pop influenced with the infernal boooosssh of electronic drums ubiquitous. I don't want to be one of those people who complains when Dylan moves on to the next sound, a modern style. I want to be the person digging his new direction, not shouting "Judas" from the balcony of the Free Trade Hall. Truthfully though, with an open mind and everything, this is still not a very good LP and the '80s pop stylings are only part of the problem.
The whole album seems to adhere to a precise mathematic equation that, after literally minutes of work, I have devised as:
enjoyability of track n = (strength of song ÷ level of 1980s pop style production) x number of weeks since you last listened to Blood On The Tracks
And that is a scientific fact.
The best example is the worst culprit: When The Night Comes Falling From The Sky. Dylan goes disco. There may be people out there who like this track. There may be people who think it is a work of genius. I doubt it but, as there are also people in this world who think that Eddie Murphy in a fat suit is the height of comedy, you never know. But don't listen to those lunatics, this track is terrible. The song itself, while not being anywhere near a Dylan great, isn't a complete write-off. There is a version of it on the first Bootleg Tapes album with the E Street Band's Steve Van Zandt and Roy Bittan that is not bad at all - it's simply that the song isn't strong enough to put up with the aural mauling that producer... err... Bob Dylan puts it through. Please, Bob, don't ever attempt disco again.
It is no coincidence that by far the strongest tracks on the album - I'll Remember You, Clean Cut Kid, Emotionally Yours and Dark Eyes - are the ones that get a reprieve from synth-pop hell.
Clean Cut Kid is an interesting conceit; a story of a boy brutalised by service in the Vietnam War set to one of the jauntiest, swinging songs that Dylan has written up to this point. The juxtaposition is a clever attempt at subversion but, ultimately, lessens the impact of the story as I find I get caught up more with the melody than the lyrical intent.
The other three of the stronger tracks are all gentle ballads that Dylan treats kindly. I'll Remember You and Emotionally Yours are pleasing love songs whereas Dark Eyes is much deeper. Apparently inspired by a fleeting encounter with a prostitute (no, not that sort of encounter), it is a simple yet beautiful, with Dylan giving us something lyrically interesting to chew over. It is starting to be a recurring theme of his 1980s albums that they close with the strongest track by far.
The only song that gets close to standing up to the 80s production is Tight Connection To My Heart which gives the album a lively, catchy start. I must admit to preferring the earlier version of the track available on the Bootleg Tapes (when the song was called Someone's Got A Hold Of My Heart) but it still gets the toes a'tapping.
Elsewhere there is very little to write home about. Seeing The Real You At Last, Never Gonna Be The Same Again, Trust Yourself and Something's Burning Baby are all pretty sub-standard songs in themselves, done no favours in how they are presented here.
Overall, this is a second-rate Dylan release; an LP where only about half the tracks are anything like enjoyable and a couple can be classed as real stinkers. Not even ending with the lovely Dark Eyes can make you forget that there was a lot of wading through mediocrity to get there.
Sorry, Bob. Next, please.
Out of five?
Two and a half
Favourite track?
Dark Eyes
Next up?
Knocked Out Loaded.
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