A pause for thought

So there we have it. Until Tempest is released in a little over a month's time, my journey is complete. You could argue that missing Dylan and The Basement Tapes means I failed at my task of considering all of Dylan's studio albums  - and you might be right - but them's the breaks and I'm not going back now.

So what have I learnt?

1. Dylan is one talented cat. 

For all the gripes and groans I had along the way, this is an extraordinary catalogue. For over 40 years he has been turning out some of the most remarkable recordings. Certainly there have been missteps, but each time his form dipped, there was one hell of a rebound coming round the bend. For almost any other artist any one of The Freewheelin', Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61, Blonde On Blonde, Blood On The Tracks, Oh Mercy or "Love and Theft" would be a career defining work and he's got them all, not to mention Desire, Nashville Skyline, John Wesley Harding,  Modern Times, Together Through Life and so on and so forth. It is a remarkable body of work. In fact, from very early in in this blog, I've been plagued with a nagging feeling of guilt when I've picked holes in the recordings. Here I am, some numbskull from the UK listening to the work of one of the greatest recording artists of all time, sucking my teeth and saying "oooh... it's not as good as the last thing he did." I hope, dear readers, that you could see my complaints within the context of someone who adores the man's work.

2. It took longer than I thought.

The more eagle eyed among you will have spotted that at the outset I had pledged to listen to one LP a week and then move on to the next. It should have taken me 32 weeks. It took one month shy of two years. Sometimes the delay was because I was busy, sometimes I couldn't be bothered to summon up the energy to sit down and write, sometimes I didn't know what I should say; but I was always listening to the same LP over and over until I felt the urge to put finger to keyboard. Not to mind, the time was well spent. Many of LPs needed the space to grow. Albums such as Saved or Together Through Life, which I'd previously dismissed, became whole new things to me and I'm incredibly grateful for that. For others, the movement was the other way: the parts of Desire or Empire Burlesque that had annoyed me before really started to irritate after the twentieth consecutive listen. On the whole, though, spending this time immersed in these records was rewarding and allowed me to appreciate so many tracks, nuances, lyrics, parts, whatever, that I hadn't fully before.

3. Self Portrait is not a good LP.

There has been a lot of revisionist stuff written about Self Portrait; that it is a misunderstood classic, too challenging for the music media of the time and unfairly dismissed. I know that the appreciation of any music is a subjective affair but, really, it's not good. It's better than Down In The Groove, certainly, but Self Portrait is still a bit rubbish. So there.

4. Until the twenty-first century Dylan needed a producer.

If you've read any of this blog, you're probably sick of me banging on about the merits of the production on each of LPs so I'll keep this brief. Until 2001 and "Love and Theft" Dylan was his own worst enemy when let loose as a producer. It didn't mean that the hired hands always did a great job - Street Legal is a bit of an aural mess and Mark Knopfler sucks much of the life out of Infidels - but by far his best work is with someone to reign him in.

5. I can't wait for Tempest.

The beauty of having listened to the whole catalogue in order is it brings into focus the arc of Dylan's progression as a writing and recording artist. The one thing that becomes clear is that is not an arc. Just when you've got a handle on where he is and where he seems to be heading - boom - he's off somewhere completely unexpected and that is great. You might not always like where he's gone or think it is an improvement on what came before but it will be new. I love it when an artist keeps you on your toes like that. So, I can't wait for Tempest; if it carries on from Together Through Life, I'll be a happy bunny, if it takes a turn down a different street that'll please me too. And if it sucks? Well, that probably just means another masterpiece is around the corner.

So, until Tempest, that's it. It's been a blast. Thanks Bob.

Christmas In The Heart (2009)

This is madness. Glorious madness. An album of traditional Christmas songs from Here Comes Santa Claus to O' Little Town of Bethlehem via Winter Wonderland, O Come All Ye Faithful and the rest. The whole Christmas kit and caboodle. Who'd have thought it?

More to the point, who would have thought it would work? Hearing Dylan croak his way through Hark The Herald Angels Sing is bizarre to say the least. It could have been terrible but he manages to pull it off mostly because he plays it straight. This is no tongue-in-cheek effort; no knowing nods and winks as he ploughs through hymns and other Christmas favourites. The reason it works is mostly because of the sincerity with which it is delivered. Dylan singing traditional Christmas tunes is daft enough in itself, it didn't need any smirks or swanny whistles and you don't get any. The production is sincere also, coming from another age with the feel - particularly due to the classic backing singer sound - of a 1950s holiday special. A real throwback.

The only concession to modernity comes with Dylan's (wonderful) version of the Moore and Frederick's classic Must Be Santa. Bob delivers a rip-roaring toe-tapping performance that would stand up on any LP. And a great video too.

Let's talk about the voice again. I love Dylan's voice and think it has aged like a good whisky but there are places on this record where it sounds, frankly, ropey. It is all down to context. Within a hymn like O Little Town Of Bethlehem where the melody is so familiar and usually delivered with a choirboy's clarity, Dylan's cracks and rasps and missed notes stand out clearly, especially when accompanied by sweet sounding backing vocals. For anyone other that your Bobcat it could be too uncomfortable a listen. However, give him something like The Christmas Blues or Must Be Santa and it all fits again; the cracks and the rasps adding character to the songs and making them his own.

Of course, this is never going to be your favourite Dylan LP or sit alongside the classics but I doubt it was meant to be. It is a gem, though, just in some odd universe of its own. A delightful curio.

And all for charity.

Out of five?

Tricky.... Four

Favourite track?

Must Be Santa

Up Next?

Tempest [yet to be released]

Together Through Life (2009)

See, this is what I wanted when I began this little blog-based venture. That moment when I realise what a complete doofus I've been and my forehead gets a good old-fashioned slapping from the palm of my hand. It finally happened with Together Through Life, the very last LP of Dylan originals out there (as I write Tempest has been announced but not yet released).

When my pre-ordered copy arrived on the day of release I was full of expectations given what a delightful album its predecessor, Modern Times, had been. I was hugely underwhelmed. My first impression was that it was a mostly dull, laboured affair and after only a couple or three listens it was slipped back into the cardboard outer case and consigned to the CD cabinet until just three weeks ago.

Doofus.

What was I thinking back in 2009? I have absolutely no idea. This is brilliant.

It's different as well. Any idea of this being the third part of a "Love and Theft" - Modern Times trilogy should be truly knocked on the head. The pace is much slower and - even though its the Never Ending Tour regulars once again plus David Hidalgo from Los Lobos and The Heartbreakers' Mike Campbell - the sound is fattened out with the inclusion of  accordion, steel guitar, mandolin and trumpet. There is certainly a more bluesy edge to the LP and, on the opening track Beyond Here Lies Nothin', a lovely New Orleans type thing going on.

There is also the return of collaboration. This time sharing the credit with the Grateful Dead's lyricist Robert Hunter. It works OK. All the songs, lyrically, move along enjoyably with some nice turn of phrase, even if it never hits the poetic heights of some of Dylan's previous work.

Talking of credit sharing, there is also a credit for Willie Dixon on My Wife's Home Town, acknowledging the fact that the melody was taken straight out of his I Just Want To Make Love To You. You have to assume this has more than a little to do with the fuss over the borrowing of melodies that was obvious yet formally unacknowledged on Modern Times. This makes it even more frustrating that he didn't just tinker with the credits on that LP and avoid all the resulting hoo-ha. Oh well, never mind.

Anyway, back to this LP and it is the music which makes this such an absorbing listen. There is a real edge to the songs, which is perhaps why it took me the best part of four years for the genius of the record to finally click. Often repetitive, often slow, the effect is hypnotic with tracks like This Dream of You or Forgetful Heart in danger of carrying you away in reverie. Life Is Hard, in particular, is audaciously slow, skillfully avoiding falling into becoming plodding, which would have been very easy to do.It is a enchanting track. We get a change of pace in Shake Shake Mama and It's All Good but the blues heart of the songs remain. The top of the tree, though, is I Feel A Change Comin' On. a beautiful piece of work with a gentle swing. Something about it reminds me of Baby, Stop Crying from Street Legal. Something about it, anyway.

The voice, though. The voice for the first time is really showing some signs of cracking. The rasp has always been there but here, on this LP, it gets pushed over the edge in one or two places. This is in no way a problem though, the downbeat, blues based songs are the perfect vehicles for a voice that sounds like it has seen the ages. It adds here, certainly. There is a question at the back of my mind as to how it would fair with other styles, but that's a topic for another time.

Overall, it isn't an obvious album. This is a really nicely crafted record with songs well worth burrowing into to get them. It does need a bit of work to get there but the reward is well worth it. This is a cracking album. So glad I finally managed to see it.

Out of five?

Five

Favourite track?

I Feel A Change Comin' On

Up next?

Christmas In The Heart

Modern Times (2006)

Shortly after the release of Modern Times, I saw an interview with Dylan where it was suggested to him that his new LP could be seen as part three of a trilogy that began with Time Out Of Mind. Dylan denied this - as you'd expect if you'd actually listened to the albums recently - but conceded that if it was part of a trilogy it would only be a part two to "Love And Theft"'s part one. 

You can see it. Modern Times and "Love And Theft" are, stylistically, peas in a pod. Producer Dylan, aka Jack Frost has done a bang-up job again, keeping the sound uncluttered, the Never Ending Tour regulars are employed once more as the backing band and the songwriting relies heavily on the same mixture of twelve bar blues and vintage sounding melodies. Perhaps because of the familiarity of the sound throughout the album and the fact it comes straight after "Love And Theft" (albeit five years after), I don't think I would rate it quite a high as its predecessor but that is just splitting hairs as this is still a quality LP. 

Track one. Thunder On The Mountain. Just as on the last album we get going with a straightforward rock and roll 12 bar blues progressions. Hardly groundbreaking but well executed and enjoyable nonetheless with a, frankly startling, shout-out to "R&B" songstress Alicia Keys in verse two. Dylan's penchant for the 12 bar blues forms the backbone of the LP with tracks one, three (Rollin' and Tumblin'), five (Someday Baby) and seven (The Levee's Gonna Break) all based firmly on that same template. We are only saved by Beyond The Horizon coming at track seven from having all odd numbered tracks conforming to the same format. They are all good, jump-up, rock and roll numbers (although the vocal on The Levee's Gonna Break always sounds a touch bored to me).  

They are not, however, great, knock-your-socks-off Dylan classics and, for that reason, I rate this as half a good LP and half a great one. And, conveniently, those two halves are neatly divided into odd and even tracks. Because it is on songs two, four, six, eight and ten that Modern Times really excels. 

Spirit On The Water, a soft-shoe shuffle, reminiscent of Moonlight, framing a lovely delivery of a lovely melody. In fact it is Dylan's gentle delivery that makes the song. I love the lyrics here but replicating them on the page makes them appear facile:

I'm pale as a ghost
Holding a blossom on a stem
You ever seen a ghost? No
But you have heard of them

or

I wanna be with you in paradise
And it seems so unfair
I can't go to paradise no more
I killed a man back there

Sounds as million times better on the record.

It is a beautiful song and just as delightful is track four, the 3/4 time, When The Deal Goes Down, as, indeed is track six Workingman's Blues #2 and, for the love of Bob, track eight, the pouding, mournful, Ain't Talkin'. Each of them are some of the most gentle, lovely songs that Dylan has produced ever - yes, ever - and delivered with a subtlety the years have given him. I adore these songs.

So I'm up and ready to give this LP only a scratch under 5 out of 5 not because it is perfect but because the heights it hits are so high and the lows are pretty damn high as well. But, let's hold on for a moment, because there is an elephant in the room and it needs to be dealt with.

Do we call it a controversy over the credits or do we stop pussy-footing around and say that accusations of plagiarism have reared their head again? Whatever, we are back to the issues we chewed over when listening to The Freewheelin'. And despite whichever conclusion we reach on this, it has to be acknowledged that Bob borrowed an awful lot of stuff to make the songs on this album. The only question is whether it matters and whether he crossed some sort of line by claiming 'All songs by Bob Dylan'.

When it was first brought to my attention that Dylan's Rollin' and Tumblin' was remarkably simliar to Muddy Waters' recording song of the same name; When The Deal Goes Down sounds a great deal like the Bing Crosby classic When The Blue Of The Night (Meets The Gold Of The Day); Beyond The Horizon is very much like the 1935 Kennedy and Williams penned tune Red Sails In The Sunset (recorded by pretty much every crooner and more); and Ain't Talkin' bears an uncanny resemblance to a slowed down version of The Stanley Brothers' Highway Of Regret, I was intrigued. So I employed Spotify to have a listen and, god damn, they are all pretty similar. Add to that the fact that Bob has borrowed liberally from poets Ovid and Henry Timrod as well as from other sources for his lyrics.

This bothered me for a while but, the more I've listened, the less it has until I've reached the point that I wholeheartedly agree with Robert Polito of the Poetry Foundation (credit wikipedia here) who said that accusations of plagiarism confuse "art with a term paper".

If you can bear with me, let us take them one by one. Rollin' and Tumblin' - yes, it sounds an awful lot like the Muddy Waters' recording and the lyrics in the first verse are the same but this is an old blues tune that stretched way back with countless singers adding their own take - though quite regularly keeping the same first verse. The first recorded version we know of is by Hambone Willie Newborn in 1929 but there are good indications it has older antecedents. It's a song that's been passed along with each adding their own, as Dylan has, and the lack of a 'trad' credit is a common blues tradition - see Waters' and Elmore James' recordings of it also.

I've more of a problem with Beyond The Horizon. There's a decent case to be made that some sort of credit should have been given to Kennedy and Williams for the melody (though not the lyrics) but that's about as far as I'd go. The same can also be said of When The Deal Goes Down. But it also has to be acknowledged that Dylan never tried to hide this way of working; in one interview just before Modern Times he ruminated on the fact that he was currently writing a song based on an old Bing Crosby melody. Hardly the thief in the night and these are well known songs. The key question here is: are they different songs? And, after much listening and comparison the answer is, definitely, yes.

Ain't Talkin' is like a slowed down Highway Of Regret but the genesis of that tune is lost in the midst of time. A case for 'Trad arr.' but no more. And as for the odd line or two popping up from old poets, I refer the honourable gentleman to Robert Polito' view. If Dylan was trying to steal and pull the wool over our eyes, it is doubtful that he would take from Ovid's The Art Of Love and then, in the very first track, sing :

I've been sitting down studying the art of love

I'll give you that there is a case for a few credits to be tweaked but this is just the folk tradition on taking old tunes and turning them into your own. I've no problem with this at all.

Right?

Right.

Putting all that Kerfuffle aside, this is a damn fine album and no mistaking.

Out of five?

Four and seven eighths.

Favourite track?

Workingman's Blues #2

Up next?

Together Through Life.

"Love And Theft" (2001)

I'd forgotten how much I love this album. When it was first released it sat on the CD player (it was the first Dylan release after I had given up on my refusal to accept that this new-fanged technology was perhaps not the work on the devil and might actually have something going for it - even though it was still a million times less satisfying than vinyl) in a state of near-permanence and became the regular soundtrack to the late-night, low-stakes poker games I found myself hosting at the time. And while I remembered it fondly for its connection to happy times, I hadn't actually given it a spin for a while. 

So out it came, on it went and I found myself reunited with an old friend. 

First up , Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Not Dylan's finest title for an opener and not the greatest number on the LP but still an immensely satisfying start (and a surprisingly dark ending to the song given the the child-like title). The thing that strikes you instantly is the sound. After the muddiness of Time Out Of Mind, there is a welcome clarity here. The songwriting aside, the key strength of the album is that it sounds like a band. Not surprisingly given that Dylan used his Never Ending Tour regulars Larry Campbell, Charlie Sexton, Tony Garnier and David Kemper for the recording. The unmistakable feel here is of quality musicians who know how to operate as a unit and Dylan sounds as comfortable with them as you would expect. On top of that, the vocal performance is as good as anything we've had since Blood On The Tracks. Each and every song is delivered perfectly. It is a mammoth performance from the old troubadour. 

So kudos to producer Jack Frost... aka Bob Dylan. If you've read any of this blog you'll know I've had a problem with Dylan's attempts to self-produce over the years. It seemed that to get his very best work he needed another hand on the tiller to rein him in, whether it be Tom Wilson, Bob Johnston or Daniel Lanois. When left to his own devices, things got far too messy. But here, praise the Lord, Dylan comes into his own, keeping it simple, clean - far more restrained than the Lanois produced previous LP and all the better for that. 

Tweedle Dee fades out. An encouraging start - an enjoyable enough tune performed with panache. But then, track two, comes Mississippi. Oh my. A staggeringly good song. Dylan at his finest. What's not to admire? A beautiful drifter's tale musically gentle, touchingly delivered and lyrically effortless:

City’s just a jungle; more games to play

Trapped in the heart of it, tryin' to get away
I was raised in the country

I been workin’ in the town
I been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down

A latter day Dylan classic.

Mississippi might be the pinnacle but throughout "Love And Theft" Dylan gives us a lyrical masterclass. Each track is lyrically as tight as you like, travelling across the country, often dealing with dark material but frequently funny and with fictional and historical figures popping up as it takes his fancy. This is songwriting of the highest order.

Track three. Summer Days. On the face of it a non-nonsense, straightforward 12 bar blues progression, rock and roll number. Here is a good time to stop and talk about this for a second because by this point Dylan is regularly returning to this most simple of all structures (or slight variations on) for many songs. And over the next couple of albums it is going to get even more common. On this album alone Summer Days, Lonesome Day Blues, Honest With Me, Tweedle Dee and Cry A While are either straight out of the 12 bar blues progression handbook or near as dammit. Should this use of formula bother me? Does it? No and definitely no. Not to this point anyway. What matters is how they are done: is the performance good, is the vocal delivery special, is the song worked around the framework in an interesting or inventive way and do the lyrics hold up? On all of these counts each of the songs, on this LP anyway, hit the mark. Summer Days is the best example. A storming performance from Dylan and his band and lyrically joyful. Not only does he throw in (away?) lovely little gems:

She’s looking into my eyes, she’s holding my hand
She’s looking into my eyes, she’s holding my hand
She says, “You can’t repeat the past.” I say, “You can’t? What do you mean,

you can’t? Of course you can."

but then knocks you down with something as meaty as:

Politician got on his jogging shoes
He must be running for office, got no time to lose
He been suckin’ the blood out of the genius of generosity
You been rolling your eyes—you been teasing me.

"Suckin' the blood out of the genius of generosity" for heaven's sake. Wonderful.

[Later addition: It has been drawn to my attention that this is not original Dylan, rather a slight variation on a line from a speech by Abraham Lincoln concerning drunkeness: "The demon of intemperance ever seems to have delighted in sucking the blood of genius and generosity". Dylan the magpie at work again. Still, it is a damn fine adaptation of the phrase.]

For the sake of space and your sanity I shall refrain from delving in to each and every song, suffice to say the standard never drops, whether it be Floater, High Water, Honest With Me or Cry A While, all top, top tunes.

Worth a special mention, though, are Moonlight and Po' Boy. On both of these Dylan reaches for a sound with its feet in somewhere around the 1920s. Both, but particularly Moonlight, have the feel of a soft-shoe shuffle befitting the sharply suited, bootlace tie wearer that Dylan has become. Lyrically Po' Boy is a delight; touching, funny and even contains a knock knock joke. A knock knock joke! Huzzah.

As so often over the last ten LPs or so, Dylan ends the record with a sudden shift of gear. Here he leaves us with the solemn Sugar Baby. It is perhaps an odd choice for an ending but it works. 

Your charms have broken many a heart and mine is surely one
You got a way of tearing the world apart. Love, see what you done
Just as sure as we’re living, just as sure as you’re born
Look up, look up—seek your Maker—’fore Gabriel blows his horn

It is a beautiful song and, anyway, if it is too down-beat an end for you, Tweedle Dee is just a push of a button away.

A fine LP, up there with the best of his work. Love it.

Out of five?

Five

Favourite track?

Mississippi (with Po' Boy running a close second)

Up next?

Modern Times.

Time Out Of Mind (1997)

It's been a roller coaster ride this last ten years worth of recordings. The nadir of Down In The Groove, the sparkling high of Oh Mercy, followed by the nagging feeling that the brilliance of that record might have been a last hurrah for Dylan's creativity as the below-par Under The Red Sky was followed by two all-covers LPs. Had Dylan's muse disappeared for good?

No. It hadn't. 

According to the man himself, it wasn't that his muse had deserted him, it was just that she was spending more time away from home. Whereas, before, inspiration would come in a flood, as the years went on "once in a while, the odd song will come to me like a bulldog at the garden gate and demand to be written. But most of them are rejected out of my mind right away." 

Well, if that bulldog had stopped yapping for the previous two (one could argue, three) LPs, it had started to cause one hell of a disturbance again. With Time Out of Mind, Dylan is back at the top of his game. The songwriting on display here is of the highest order. There is not a duff track (I'm not completely sold on Can't Wait but that's the worst I can say). He may not be breaking much new ground any more but no matter, this is a craftsman at work. Anyway, breaking new ground is usually the young man's game; finesse is where the old man excels.

We start with Love Sick. A wonderful, downbeat, plaintive song. Echoes of Most Of The Time, without the pretence of optimism.

I’m sick of love; I wish I’d never met you
I’m sick of love; I’m trying to forget you

Dirt Road Blues follows. One of those twelve bar blues numbers that Dylan is beginning to specialise in. You never feel he is particularly stretching himself on songs like these but they are enjoyable none the less.

The LP really starts to kick in now. Standing In The Doorway (a beautifully mournful country-blues number), Trying To Get To Heaven (a superb vocal performance), Make You Feel My Love (the simplest of love songs) and Not Dark Yet (a sumptuous musing) all particularly outstanding.

Shadows are falling and I’ve been here all day
It’s too hot to sleep, time is running away
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I’ve still got the scars that the sun didn’t heal
There’s not even room enough to be anywhere
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there

What is notable is how lyrically downbeat the entire album is. These are songs of heartbreak and self-doubt. From Don't Think Twice through Blood On The Tracks to Most Of The Time, perhaps Dylan is at his musical best when down in the dumps.

The LP finishes with Highlands; a glorious ramble of a song that only Dylan can do this well. Clocking in at over sixteen minutes and essentially one-riff, it wanders from town to town, takes a diversion to detail in length a conversation with a waitress and still has time to report crossing the road to avoid a mangy dog. Much like the Knocked Out Loaded track Brownville Girl, this should not work yet it somehow does. It's Dylan's charm that takes such a hodgepodge of elements and turns out a great ending to an album of top-draw songwriting.  

Yet, for all that, I don't think this is as good as Oh Mercy. Stop me if you've heard this one before but it's the production that's the problem. I thought Daniel Lanois did a top-notch job on Oh Mercy and - up to this point at least - Dylan has produced his strongest recordings when he has a producer to reign him in. It is a shame, then, that on this record Lanois' production too often seems to get in the way of the songs rather than let them breathe in the way he did on Oh Mercy.

For starters, on most of the tracks, there is just too much going on. It's not a Spector-esque wall of sound, it's not the complete muddle of Street Legal, it is just... there seems to be too much of everything but not enough of one thing. You dig? Listen to something like the intro to Million Miles or Standing In the Doorway (in fact any track other than Make You Feel My Love) and there seems to be two of everything, guitars, keyboards, pedal steel, drums noodling away in the background, each doing their own thing. None of them stand out, nothing takes the lead to carry a melody. They are all just there doing stuff. 

I also don't like what he's done to Bob's voice. People with more expertise than me will be able to say what that is plastered all over his vocal track - echo? reverb? compression? - but whatever it is, on too many tracks, it's like listening to Dylan with cotton wool shoved in your ear. The nuances of his delivery gets lost.

I don't want to over-egg this particular pudding; this is not a disaster, the production doesn't ruin the LP or prevent this from coming across as a collection of some wonderful songs. This is still a very very good album. But it does distract and that is annoying. 

Never mind. Dylan is back on form and that is reason to celebrate.

Out of five?

Four and three-quarters

Favourite track?

Not Dark Yet

Next up?

"Love And Theft"

World Gone Wrong (1993)

Or Good As I Been To You part 2. The similarity between this LP and his last is so obvious that you might as well treat them as two halves of a whole. For that reason, there is not a great deal to add to my last post.

Damn.

Having said that, while the two LPs share a style of song choice, the only-covers content, solo Dylan recordings, I think there is a slight difference in that this album is not quite as good as the last.

It's good - no mistake about that - just not as good. Part of that could be because we've now heard this before and that if World Gone Wrong had come first I'd have been jumping up and down about this in the same way I did about Good As I Been To You. But, then again, perhaps not as, while this is a thoroughly enjoyable journey through some old tunes bashed out in the way that only Dylan can, I'm not convinced that the choice of song is as consistently top-notch as on the previous LP.

There are some great choices on here - World Gone Wrong, Blood In My Eyes and Delia in particular - and the rest are fine songs but if you were to combine these two all-acoustic LPs in one and then cut it down to a single record, I'd bet you'd have more songs from the first one than this. But that's not to knock this as a stand alone LP. Dylan's voice is still holding up and fitting these, mostly downbeat, ballads perfectly in a timeless, beautifully anachronistic way. Plus you get to hear him have a crack at the Blind Willie McTell tune, Broke Down Engine, which is a blast.

I think what is probably bugging me is that while this folk/blues standards diversion has been great, I'm starting to itch for some Dylan originals. As always with Dylan, what the truth is surrounding this absence of any original releases between 1990 and 1997 is unclear. Muse left town again? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, we should be a touch grateful as it did at least allow him to revisit some grand old tunes of the past and give us a couple of gems of LPs and maybe the last time we'll get to hear just Bob alone with his guitar and harp. But, then again, Dylan being Dylan, who knows?

Out of five?

Three and seven eighths

Favourite track?

World Gone Wrong

Up next?

Time Out Of Mind.

Good As I Been To You (1992)

It is not good for someone who is writing a blog to be lost for words but I am struggling to come up with much to say about this 1992 offering. 

I like it, that's for sure. In fact, it is a lovely record. It is so good to hear Dylan alone with his guitar and harp for the first time since... gosh... Another Side?  Bringing It All Back Home? For an age, anyway.

It is a refreshing sound, reminiscent of his very first LP. The comparison to Bob Dylan is an easy one to make; not only is it a solo performance but it has the rough and ready quality that made the 1962 recording so endearing. Again here the guitar isn't always perfect, nor the harp, nor his voice but these imperfections enhance rather than detract giving the sound a timeless quality. Tracks like the beautiful blues number Sitting On Top Of The World or the mournful Hard Times sound like recordings plucked from an archive preserving tales from the time of the Dust Bowl. 

Some of this is the choice of song but much is now in the voice. While in 1962 Dylan was trying to sound beyond his years, thirty years on time has done the work for him. On the last LP, Under The Red Sky, there were sounds of the voice cracking; set against a slickly produced album they were awkward, here the cracks add to the atmosphere. It is almost Dylan sounding like he had wanted to thirty years before.

The issue, of course, is that this is an LP of traditional songs. Not a Dylan composition in sight. That's no problem - the choice of songs and delivery are sublime - but other than how lovely this can be, there's not a great deal more to say.

The performance aside, his pick of tunes to cover is exemplary. The first two tracks - Frankie & Albert and Jim Jones - are fine but the least touching of the whole record. The LP starts to take off with Blackjack Davey and Canadee-I-O before really hitting its straps with the sublime Sitting On Top Of The World. After that it is difficult to find a word of criticism for either the songs or Dylan's performance. There are some splendid tunes here: Little Maggie, Hard Times, Step It Up And Go, Tomorrow Night particularly noteworthy; but then again so are Arthur McBride, You're Gonna Quit Me and Diamond Joe. Even Froggie Went A-Courtin', which could have been a disaster, is delivered with a endearing sincerity that makes it work despite the silliness of it all.

If this had been an LP of original Dylan compositions I'd be declaring it a work of genius, five out of five and some. The fact it is not means that judgement has to be tempered but, taken for what it is, this is still a little gem of an LP.

Out of five?

Four and a quarter

Favourite Track?

Tomorrow Night

Up Next?

World Gone Wrong.

Under The Red Sky (1990)

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like satin and silk

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a pail of milk

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, rattle and shake

Wiggle like a big fat snake.

Desolation Row, it is not.

For that matter, it's not Oh Mercy either.

Lyrically, I'm not sure what to make of Under The Red Sky. Some of the songs seem to be child-like entities written, presumably, for his young daughter to whom the LP is dedicated. The opener, Wiggle Wiggle, and the title track  ("Someday little girl, everything for you is gonna be new/Someday little girl, you’ll have a diamond as big as your shoe") certainly fit that picture but even on those tracks that clearly aren't aimed at the four-year old market the lyrics too often land somewhere between tortured and juvenile. Some examples:

From 2X2:

Seven by seven, they headed for heaven
Eight by eight, they got to the gate
Nine by nine, they drank the wine
Ten by ten, they drank it again

From Unbelievable:

You go north and you go south
Just like bait in the fish’s mouth
Ya must be livin’ in the shadow of some kind of evil star
It’s unbelievable it would get this far

Handy Dandy:

Handy Dandy, Handy Dandy, just like sugar and candy
Handy Dandy, just like sugar and candy 

And I could go on. This is so far off the finesse of Oh Mercy that is makes you suspect that he must be up to something. If he is, though, what it is remains beyond me. I've nothing against children's songs  - Woody Guthrie produced some fantastic tunes for the young 'uns -  but that's not what's going on here for the most part. Lyrically, it is not terrible but just not particularly good, which is strange for Dylan; even on the musically poorest parts of his back catalogue you could usually rely on his wordcraft. On this LP only Born In Time really shapes up to his usual lyrical standards.

The irony here is that, looking beyond the lyrical content to the music, this is quite an enjoyable LP. Not remarkable, certainly not a patch on Oh Mercy, but enjoyable enough. Three of the tracks - TV Talkin' Song, 2x2 and Handy Dandy - don't do anything for me at all and Wiggle Wiggle is just a bit silly but that's the worst you can say. The rest of the songs have a lot going for them. 10,000 Men and Unbelievable are the sort of 12 bar rock and roll numbers that Dylan, at this point, is knocking out easily but are no less enjoyable romps for that. Add to those God Knows and Cat's In The Well which are both pleasingly jaunty tunes. The real strength on the record lies in the tracks Under The Red Sky and Born In Time which exhibit a more gentle touch; both lovely songs (regardless of my reservations about the lyrical content of the first of those).

The production of Don and David Was and, for the first time, Dylan himself under the pseudonym of Jack Frost is tempered and serves the songs well. The problem with the record - lyrics aside - is that while there are things to enjoy it is not particularly memorable. I was looking forward to getting into this LP as, at the time of its release, my Dylan listening was still dominated by Oh Mercy and this offering rarely got anything other than a brief spin on the player. I looked forward to putting that right. Having now given it the attention I should have at the time, I must admit, even though there are good tracks here, when this blog is done, it may well be a long while before it gets a run-out again.

Out of five?

Three and a half

Favourite track?

Born In Time

Up next?

Good As I Been To You.

Oh Mercy (1989)

Sounds the horns, roll out the red carpet, bring out the bunting, kill the fatted calf, Dylan's muse is back in town. This is top stuff. After one stinker of an LP and a few others that needed the wheat separating from the chaff, Dylan returns with a vengeance. Without the slightest hint of hyperbole I can proclaim that Oh Mercy is a great album. 

Hurrah! 

If truth be told, listening to the last few albums has been somewhat of a sobering affair. Even where there has been good, occasionally great, material to comment on, I was plagued by the knowledge that, considering what had come before, we were dealing with sub-standard Dylan. Maybe good by others' standards but not by his. Then - blam! - in 1989, out of nowhere, he comes out with what is now one of my very favourite Dylan LPs. 

The opening track - and I say this with great pleasure - is my least favourite track on the record. I like the song very much. On many of his recent albums this would be the standout track. It is a very good song. It is my least favourite on the LP. What a heartening thought. 

Within seconds, it becomes clear that this is a very different album from the previous.... well, probably all of them. The sound is clear, precise.. . stripped back? Maybe not quite but there is space evident that certainly wasn't there on either the last two LPs or any from the God period. Even on the opener - Political World - one of the rare up-tempo songs on the album, the clarity yet sharpness of the production is evident. Well done Daniel Lanois. By all accounts the Dylan-Lanois relationship wasn't always the smoothest but it has served the music well.

The music. Here lies the rub. The quality of songwriting here is quite extraordinary. I'm not quite sure what caused this change - yes, I have read Chronicles and I'm still not sure - but there is now a measured certainty to his songwriting that hasn't been there since Desire; a maturity and even, perhaps, confidence. The down-tempo, unhurried melodies fit his voice perfectly. 

The voice. As good as it has been for years. The overly nasal sound has gone and been replaced by a gentle rasp that serves the songs perfectly. When he gets deep down and dirty for Man In The Long Black Coat it is a performance seamlessly shaped around the mood of the song and its deep down and dirty lyrics.

Ah, the lyrics. Dylan is back on form here. Whether it is in Ring Them Bells, Most of The Time, What Good Am I? or Shooting Star, he writes with a sensitivity, a lightness of touch that we haven't heard since... well, Every Grain of Sand, probably. He also throws in some political comment in two tracks and, possibly, a reference to his religious beliefs in Shooting Star. Possibly. It is a lyrically accomplished work and one where the words are allowed to be heard. This brings us around to the production once more. Recently I read that Bill Wyman had criticised the job Daniel Lanois did here for over-producing the sound. Frankly, that is nonsense; what Lanois has done is given these beautiful songs room to breathe, to be heard. It's been a while since you could say that about a Dylan album.

Following Political World comes Where Teardrops Fall which is a pretty-enough track but, two songs in, you'd have to say that it is still just a satisfying LP rather than anything more spectacular. But then, at track three , the LP catches fire and never looks back. Every song from then on is top-notch. Everything is Broken, the other up-tempo song, just works. I'm not sure why - perhaps, lyrically, the litany style grabs you and drags you along; perhaps it is satisfying groove of the music - but, for whatever reason, it works. That is followed by the gorgeous Ring Them Bells:

Ring them bells, ye heathen
From the city that dreams
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
’Cross the valleys and streams
For they’re deep and they’re wide
And the world’s on its side
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride.

Wonderful.

And so the LP goes on with the growling delight of Man In The Long Black Coat and then, my favourite, Most Of The Time.

It is a beautiful tune but it is really the the conceit that gets me with Most Of The Time. A post-break up song where the confession is revealed through the denial.

Most of the time
I’m clear focused all around
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground
I can follow the path, I can read the signs
Stay right with it when the road unwinds
I can handle whatever I stumble upon
I don’t even notice she’s gone
Most of the time.

Following that beauty of a song we get What Good Am I?, Disease of Conceit, What Was It You Wanted and, the sublime, Shooting Star. Each is a tremendous piece of work that would have been the outstanding track on any of his LPs over the previous decade.

Have I made it clear that I like this album very much?

If there is a criticism to be levelled it would be that after Everything Is Broken the album becomes somewhat one-paced but only a complete buckethead with a heart of stone would quibble like that. This is a great LP that arrived in the nick of time. Listening to this over the last few weeks has brought a skip to my step. A delight.

Out of five?
Five.

Favourite Track?
Most Of The Time.

Up next?
Under The Red Sky.

Down In The Groove (1988)

Following the unexpected pleasure of discovering that Knocked Out Loaded wasn't as bad as I had remembered, the prospect of getting seriously familiar with Down In The Groove was starting to look much more appealing.

I say 'much more' because my memory of this LP is of it being the absolute pits of the entire Dylan back catalogue. Would the old goat surprise me once again?

Would he 'eck. This is rubbish. 

It would be unfair to say that ever single track here is total tosh - there are two or three that make it into the 'so-so' category and one perhaps a little higher - but it would be revisionism of the highest order to lavish any more praise than that. So, with a heavy heart, let us start at the top.

Track one. Let's Stick Together. Yes, that Let's Stick Together. The well worn Wilbert Harrison song that Bryan Ferry had a big hit with (on this side of the Atlantic, at least).

Why? Really, why? Why did anyone think this was a good idea? Which numpty thought that a cover version of a well known track would be what this album needed? It's not like the version here is different or new or even better. And, to be honest, you'd hear more entertaining versions down your nearest pub when the local classic rock covers band are doing their turn. What it suggests - other than Bob is desperately in need of a producer or some other form of quality control - is that his muse seems to have packed up and left town. Like Knocked Out Loaded previously, there is a noticeable lack of much original material here. Out of the ten tracks on Down In The Groove, half are covers, one is a trad (arr.), two are co- written with Robert Hunter, leaving just two Dylan-only compositions. And those aren't any great shakes in any case. 

Move on.

Track two: When Did You Leave Heaven?, the 1936 Whiting & Bullock tune. Did this slip into the track listing by mistake? Was someone at Columbia left red-faced when they realised that they had pressed a early rehearsal version in error? And I am only being half-sarcastic. It is all over the place, a discordant mess that thankfully fizzles out around the two minute mark in a cacophony of tuneless, out of time, guitar. The best thing you can say about this track is that it is short.

Three. Another cover, Sally Sue Brown. This sounds more together, even properly rehearsed. It is a decent song, just... here's the problem: I've listened to this album many times over the last month in preparation for writing this. A dozen full-on listens would be a conservative estimate. I haven't shirked my duty to this blog and my beautiful readers. Yet, just a few minutes ago, when I embarked on this paragraph, I had to get up and put the damn album on again to remind myself of what Sally Sue Brown sounded like. It would be fair to say, then, that this is forgettable. OK, but utterly forgettable.

I wish the next track was as forgettable as the last. Death Is Not The End starts so promisingly; understated harmonica, guitar and drums, Bob starting to intone solemnly on what seems a nice gentle little melody - if a touch dreary - but surely this will build into something majestic? No it won't. It goes nowhere. The solemn intonation continues on and on and on until it becomes nothing short of a drone and - clocking in at over five minutes - one starts to hope that, if death is really not the end, they haven't got a copy of this track in the afterlife. Ugh.

Let's skip over Had A Dream About You Baby. It's fine but something you feel Bob could knock out in his sleep. File, with Sally Sue Brown, under forgettable.

Ugliest Girl In The World. Bob injecting a bit of levity, a bit of fun into proceedings. Yet, is it fun? Not really. But by this point I think the dearth of quality on this LP was depressed me to the point that I wouldn't know fun if it came up and punched me in the mouth. And it is not a particularly good track anyway.

Then, finally, with Silvio we get something worthwhile. An enjoyable, jaunty track that wouldn't be out of place on a decent Dylan LP. Only on Down In The Groove, though, would it be the absolute stand-out track.

We finish up with somewhat of a dirge (Ninety Miles An Hour), a perfectly pleasant version of the old folk tune Shenandoah and a gloomy stroll through the Albert Brumley gospel number Rank Strangers To Me. I could do without Ninety Miles and Hour but, on a better day, Shenandoah and, possibly, Rank Strangers To Me would fill me with a little more joy. However, this happens to be a day that I've just sat listening to the rest of Down In The Groove and by the time we get to tracks nine and ten I just do not care any more.

If this was an LP by anyone else other than Dylan it would simply be a bad album to be passed by. Because, though, where it sits in an otherwise glorious back-catalogue, I find the very existence of Down In the Groove to be utterly depressing.

Sorry for the gloom. Let us move on and never speak of this again.

Out of five?

One.

Favourite track?

Silvio.

Up next?

Oh Mercy

Knocked Out Loaded (1986)

It has been more than a while since I last plucked this LP from the rack and gave it a spin. The reason for a my reticence toward this 1986 offering is that I have always remembered it as one good song surrounded by...well... rubbish. Now I've had a chance to revisit the album, I think that was far too harsh.

Don't get me wrong, this, along with Empire Burlesque, still represents the nadir of Dylan's recording career to this point but, having spent the last few weeks with Knocked Out Loaded on loop, there is more merit on the LP than I gave it credit for.

It must be said, though, that this is still either Dylan on cruise control or showing signs of losing his mojo. While the former would lend itself to the obvious pun that this was a record knocked out while loaded, the truth seems nearer the latter; Dylan appears to be struggling for inspiration. As a result we get two covers - Little Junior Parker's You Wanna Ramble and Kris Kristofferson's They Killed Him - one reworking of a traditional song (Precious Memories) and three co-written numbers in Brownsville Girl, Got My Mind Made Up and Under Your Spell. As Dylan cries out in Brownsville Girl:

If there's an original thought out there, I could use it right now.

That leaves only two solely Dylan-penned songs on the record. Maybe Someday is one of those I've come to appreciate much more than I remembered. It's a jaunty number that is simultaneously musically entertaining and up-beat while still lyrically wistful. On the other hand, Driftin' Too Far From Shore is not very good at all. In fact, it's awful. Given my rant about Dylan's production on the last LP I'm loath to start up again like a stuck record but this song is truly bludgeoned to death by the thwack, thwack, thwack of a (probably electric) snare drum, while Dylan yells the title of the song at you repeatedly, until the point that you can't make out whether or not there would be any merit to the thing if it had been treated more kindly, mainly due to the raging migraine that bloody drumbeat is giving you.

Just as annoying is the treatment Bob gives to They Killed Him. I must admit I disliked the song in the first place, finding few redeeming features in Kristofferson's original version - the sentiment is fine, the execution is rubbish. So, for me, this was probably a non-starter but Dylan's handling of it helps little; screeching backing vocals and one point, for heaven's sake, a children's choir so high-pitched I swear it changed the channels on my television.

At this point in his career, I think Dylan needs a producer. 

Having said that, the rest of the LP starts to look up. Precious Memories is an unremarkable but decent version of a traditional tune as You Wanna Ramble (though the original was I Wanna Ramble) is of a good old 1950s blues - verging on early rock and roll - number.

The interesting thing about Dylan's version of the Little Junior Parker song and, to a certain extent, of the Tom Petty co-written track, the enjoyable, Got My Mind Up is the echoes they have of the work he produces ten to twenty years later. These aren't a million miles away in style to The Levee's Gonna Break or the Never Ending Tour regular Summer Days. Even when Dylan is not at the top of his game there are still signs of his song-writing evolution. 

The gems on this album are saved to towards the end. As, seemingly, is his wont, Dylan ends the album with a lovely melody, in this case, co-written with Carole Bayer Sager, Under Your Spell. Top of the tree, however, is the majestic, triumphant Brownsville Girl. Originally recorded as New Danville Girl for his previous LP and co-written with playwright Sam Shepard it really shouldn't work. It is an eleven minute, one melody, mostly spoken song with Bob either talking about the mysterious, eponymous girl or, bizarrely, some Gregory Peck film he'd seen. It is nuts but it is fantastic. Lyrically picturesque, the whole song stretches out like a huge cinematic canvas that builds and builds to a roaring crescendo. Really top stuff. 

The highs and the lows of mid-80s Dylan. Two really good tracks, four decent ones, two stinkers. A lot better than I remembered but, in the context of his career as a whole, we're not in that great a place.

And, if my memory serves me right, it's about to get worse before it gets better.

Out of five?

Three

Favourite track?

Brownsville Girl

Next up?

Down In The Groove.