John Wesley Harding - Bob Dylan

An album which has recently reintroduced itself to my orbit is John Wesley Harding, by Bob Dylan.

My perspective on this record has tended to oscillate between two points. The first, which held sway for many years and was admittedly based on insufficient and superficial listening, was that it was a slight and bland work whose reputation and myth were out of proportion to its real artistic weight. The alternative view was that the first appraisal was harsh and my earlier assessment of the album as "lightweight" had militated against any more nuanced or thorough examination of its merits. I can report that after a more rigorous inquiry the strengths and charms of John Wesley Harding are no longer obscured from my view.

The songs, by and large, have a stripped down and austere flavour, with pared-down instrumentation. Story-telling is to the fore. If the stories themselves are sometimes enigmatic and mysterious, the language employed is generally more straightforward and less oblique than that which characterized Dylan's classic mid-60s releases.

In some ways the material is similar in tone and character to that from the "Basement Tapes" sessions, if less ebullient in its execution and production. Despite the more direct and literal mode of song-writing, there is still sufficient poetic acuity and wit to leave many of the songs open to interpretation, enveloped in an almost sepia-tinted haze.

The title track sets the pattern. In a sense, John Wesley Harding is one of the precursors to the emergent trends of "country rock" and the "retreat" to a more rootsy and authentic fashion of composition and performance. As always, although nominally part of a wider musical movement or scene, Dylan puts his own signature and stamp on things.

Looking at the lyrics and the delivery here, I get a strong sense that Bob was deriving great satisfaction and fascination from the process of putting together these tunes and stories, with their themes, spiritual and rustic. No longer under pressure to be the hipster or the troubadour for a generation, he could immerse himself in the simple joys of song-writing and poetry. 'As I Went Out One Morning' and 'I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine' are examples of these factors playing out in practice.

As for 'All Along the Watchtower', well Bob's version of the song has understandably been overshadowed by Jimi Hendrix's monumental and apocalyptic rendering, but the original presented here has its own quieter drama and charm, with the lyrics unencumbered by production excesses.

Some of the material on the record even arguably harks back to Dylan's very early albums, with their simplicity and more basic brand of expression and narrative - 'The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest', for instance.

There are references to 'Dustbowl' injustices and concerns, although presented in a restrained and even ambiguous way. The characters in the songs are often outsiders or outcasts, oppressed by societal pressures and prejudices. The tenor and structure of these compositions could well be illustrative of Dylan's literary inclinations and tastes.

It has become customary to refer to albums possessing "hidden gems". It could almost be said that the majority of the tracks on John Wesley Harding are hidden gems, but 'Drifter's Escape' and 'Dear Landlord' certainly stand out in this respect. This all rather serves to dispel any notion that the album lacks substance or depth. In its own way it is fuller and more thought-provoking than LPs which have garnered lavish praise. It packs a lot of content and expressiveness into a comparatively short running-time, with numerous murky corners, tangents and detours to explore and savour.

Perhaps as a listening experience the record packs less of an outright punch, and elicits less exhilaration, than other Dylan efforts, and one's enjoyment or appreciation of it might well depend on individual preference. attention span, patience and mood at any given moment.

An aspect of the album which intrigues me is the subject matter of the lyrics, and their approach to social and cultural issues. Dylan to me seems to be consciously delving into such territory, finding its possibilities and its themes stimulating and interesting, perhaps hoping that they would provoke corresponding levels of contemplation and reflection among listeners.

The religious imagery, often subsumed within other topics, is a feature, and despite its restraint it helps to equip this record with its distinctive hue and flavour. As with other singer-songwriters over the years, the religious themes may occasionally be intended as metaphors or symbolism for other matters.

I would contend that John Wesley Harding is a worthy contender to be held up with some of Bob Dylan's most important work. The songs are intelligent and interesting, and should encourage thought and imagination. Another thing to its credit is that this collection of songs is unpretentious, and it will be a rewarding process for those who persevere with it. The record incorporates subjects and musical elements which both hark back to his early output and also anticipate some of his later concerns and excursions. So disregard any notion of "blandness", and lose yourself in this album's crevasses and recesses.

Bob Dylan at 80

As Bob Dylan reaches his 80th birthday, I feel it appropriate to commit a few words to blog form about the great man, his influence and his achievements.

My respect for Dylan's artistry and genius has only continued to flourish in recent years, as I have acquired a deeper and broader understanding of his music, its reach and its effects. I would go so far as to say that Dylan's impact on Western culture is comparable to such figures as William Shakespeare and Johann Sebastian Bach.

He gave rock, and by extension pop, music a literate, poetic voice, and practically invented the modern concept of the 'singer-songwriter', an idea which still plays a major role in today's music, albeit in diluted and shallower form. Many 21st century artists owe a major debt to Dylan's pioneering efforts, even if they don't appreciate it themselves.

In his influence on his contemporaries, notably The Beatles, Dylan helped to shape the creation of modern rock music as a credible art form which was deemed worthy of respect, study and analysis in intellectual and high-brow cultural circles.

Although critical favour tends to focus primarily on his mid-1960s work, and his mid-70s resurgence, I think that a wider exploration of his oeuvre is desirable when appraising his talent and scope. There was the outbreak of prolific song-writing in 1967/68, and his role in shifting the musical focus away from psychedelia and back towards simpler modes of expression and storytelling. 

Of course, there was also his courage in 1965/66 in 'going electric' and fusing folk, blues and rock music to create something genuinely intoxicating and vibrant. Those three albums, 'Bringing It All Back Home', 'Highway 61 Revisited' and 'Blonde on Blonde', represent one of the most dazzling and assured outbursts of brilliance and expressiveness ever essayed by a recording artist. 

Dylan was often unpredictable, sometimes downright contrary, but he is a symbol of something extraordinary, a world in which humanity can rise above the mediocre and see in itself something progressive and adventurous. All people who call themselves music lovers should immerse themselves in the work of Bob Dylan. 

Bob Dylan : Behind The Shades : Take Two - Clinton Heylin

Another of the music-orientated books which was sitting rather forlornly on my shelves was this Bob Dylan biography by Clinton Heylin. This particular edition was published in the year 2000.

Apart from my admiration for the music, my knowledge of Dylan had been somewhat sketchy. This tome filled in many of those gaps. It contains some interesting material about the subject's family background, his upbringing and his early musical forays.

This was the first Heylin work that I had read, and I quite liked the style. He spends a lot of time putting various myths and legends into perspective, presenting the basic facts.

I absolutely loved the story of Dylan's gradual immersion into folk music, and reading about it has spurred me to explore that scene more thoroughly myself. Heylin makes the story seem real, as the Dylan legend can sometimes appear overpowering. His path to greatness was not radically different to everyone else's.

To be honest, I didn't always agree with the author's opinions on music, or his pronouncements about certain artists, and the relative merits of some of Dylan's "competitors". Having said all this, Heylin's observations did instill a certain food for thought as regards who was truly "innovating" or "making the pace" in the mid-Sixties. The depth and vision of Dylan's albums of that time was unusual and challenging, and it is worth remembering how much reverence other artists had for the man and his music.

The author's take on Dylan's artistic progression certainly solidified my regard for the Blonde On Blonde album.  That record has a reputation for being enigmatic and less than immediately accessible, and I think that Heylin may have enabled some people to see its true strengths more clearly.

From the version presented here, it seems that being around Dylan and his touring entourage in the years 1965/1966 was not always the healthiest or pleasantest pastime. On the surface, it must have been a relief for him to escape from that whole scenario.

A feature of this book is the space and detail which it dedicates to Dylan's life and work following his 1966 motorcycle accident. The "Basement Tapes" era is looked at in some depth, and this section of the book provided me with some indications as to how The Band made the strides to the mastery of Music From Big Pink. 

The "lost" periods such as, let's say, 1970-1973 are a sizeable part of the fascination. I got quite engrossed with the journey which Dylan was on, as his work became perhaps more overtly influenced by his private life and by those creative individuals with whom he was associating.  Another feature of this book is that the author's views on what constitute Dylan's strong creative times do not always correspond with the general public consensus.

The Rolling Thunder Revue, at least in its earlier guise, seems like it was a lot of fun, both onstage and off!

I enjoyed the chapters which addressed the 1980s, although they occasionally felt slightly compressed; or maybe it was just that less of originality and note was really occurring? The tale of stagnation and marginalization, and of several false dawns, is sometimes painful to read. His interactions with the newer artists make for illuminating reading. Most of those people owed a great debt to Dylan, even if some of them did not realize it or appreciate it at the time.

As I followed the story from the early 1980s onwards, I increasingly wondered to myself how much of all this was actually fun. He seemed to be searching for something, but perhaps he didn't really know what that "something" was, hence the bewildering array of collaborations and backing musicians.

This is an interesting read, particularly for someone who is a Dylan fan, but not obsessively so.

Cahoots - The Band - album review

1971's Cahoots is often seen as continuing The Band's gradual decline in creative energy and vitality, but I do not necessarily endorse that assessment, seeing it more as the onset of a plateau. The album contains fewer "famous" songs than its predecessor, Stage Fright, but I don't see it as significantly weaker.

Stage Fright feels to me like a collection of distinct songs, mostly pretty good ones it must be said, if lacking the charm and mystique of those from the first two records released by the group. Cahoots is more impenetrable, enigmatic and dark, less straightforward to define and, on the surface at least, not as easy to love. Even the mix seems muddy, without the exuberant and sharp clarity of earlier works.

The two best known tracks are featured up-front at the beginning of the record, the New Orleans-flavoured "Life Is A Carnival" and "When I Paint My Masterpiece", composed by Bob Dylan.  The latter is a spirited and likeable effort, with some exotic hues, and elevated by an endearing lead vocal by Levon Helm. It evokes some of the mystery and the qualities which had made The Band so important and refreshing.

"Last Of The Blacksmiths" is a song which in style and tone might have sat comfortably on Stage Fright.  It is ideally suited to Richard Manuel's voice, and he is on fine form here.

Coming up next, "Where Do We Go From Here?" adds credence to the notion that in the early Seventies, The Band's songs were beginning to sound rather too similar to each other.  This may have been a symptom of diminishing creative powers. This number is harmless enough, but it does verge on the anodyne.

"4% Pantomime" is a collaboration with Van Morrison. It has a pleasant R&B character, and Van's contributions alone make it worthwhile, adding an extra dimension. The trademark "Band" organ sound is also much in evidence.  It is a shame that this combination (The Band and Van) did not join forces more frequently on record.

If one was feeling uncharitable, it might be contended that "Shoot Out In Chinatown" represents "The Band by numbers". It is hardly surprising that Robbie Robertson's ideas were less potent and inventive by this time, when one considers the extraordinary burst of fecundity in the period 1968-70.

Next up, "The Moon Struck One" stands out slightly, due to another heartfelt Richard Manuel vocal, and a more inventive, confident melody and arrangement, endowing the track with a more gripping, almost hypnotic atmosphere. Some passionate singing helps "Thinkin' Out Loud", along with Robbie's Robertson's understated but affecting guitar-playing.

Like many Band numbers, "Smoke Signal" has lyrics which are worth taking close notice of, even if the tune here is itself nothing out of the ordinary. As with much of the band's post-1969 output, the vocal harmonies have become too "regular", somehow eschewing the wonderfully ragged vocal style on Music From Big Pink in particular.

"Volcano" constitutes a welcome change, including some lively horns and a nice helping of Robbie's distinctive "brittle" guitar work. This song is minor, but entertaining nevertheless.

The record concludes with "The River Hymn", which is more cinematic in its scope than most of the other items here. A gospel feel is very discernible, with the occasional glimpse of the combo's former magic. It finishes the album on some kind of high note.

It would be erroneous to describe Cahoots as "uneven", because few of its songs really stand out for any reason. The intensity may be lacking, but the music is well-crafted as always, and it is also a document of where the group, and perhaps the world in general, was in the early 1970s. In its own way, it has a nebulous, quirky appeal.

Neil Young's debut album (1968)

After a hiatus, I am back to listening to the music of Neil Young quite avidly. The authenticity and emotional depth of his work is impossible to ignore for too long. He is one of the most interesting singer/songwriters to study, because of his restless spirit and unpredictability.

Neil Young's debut album, self-titled and released in 1968, tends to be forgotten by the wider music world, in part because it contained comparatively few of his classic or best-known songs. I had even forgotten Ry Cooder's involvement with the record.  Anyway, I recently revisited the Neil Young album in an effort to reappraise it.

The presence of two "superfluous" instrumental numbers, "The Emperor of Wyoming" and "String Quartet from Whiskey Boot Hill", I find a tad mystifying, especially for a singer-songwriter.  While it helps to imbue Neil Young with a certain quirkiness, some might contend that it betrays a shortage of genuinely strong material to put on the record. Perhaps the nature of the track listing was an early indicator of the idiosyncratic and maverick path which the Canadian's solo career would follow?

The overall sound and character of some of the album carries echoes of Buffalo Springfield, which is hardly surprising.  In fact, the tone feels more "Sixties" to me than "70s singer-songwriter".

The one song contained on the album which has endured to a significant degree is "The Loner".  This memorable tune adds real gravitas, and makes the album better than it would otherwise have been. It is one of those dramatic, intriguing Young numbers with an impenetrable aura to it.

Another item in a vaguely similar vein to "The Loner" is "I've Been Waiting For You", which has its own mystique and atmosphere, and even exudes a touch of the psychedelic.

"The Old Laughing Lady" is another song of substance, and is redolent of some of Young's more ambitious and experimental excursions from his tenure with Buffalo Springfield. The influence of Jack Nitzsche is also discernible in the arrangement. Lyrically it would also seem to point the way forward for the songwriter.

One of the other noteworthy compositions to feature here is "Here We Are In The Years", which appears to address issues of "getting back to the country", ecological concerns, the alienating effects of modern life and the pursuit of a simpler, more pastoral existence, themes which were prevalent in much of the rock music being created in 1968. I hear a synthesizer too, which might sound incongruous, but actually works well, and this number has a vaguely "baroque" feel to it.  A certain poignancy and dignity underpin the song, and it quietly qualifies as a minor classic, in my estimation.

The penultimate track, "I've Loved Her So Long", contains some of the hallmarks which would characterize Young's later work, and it is perfumed with zest, things happening. Although an unexceptional song, it is a rather captivating piece of music, with a pleasing presence.

The record closes with "The Last Trip to Tulsa", which anticipates some of the artist's "epic" efforts. The lingering Bob Dylan influence is detectable in the lyrics at least. The earthy nature of the acoustic guitar is a welcome relief - there is not enough of it on the album. Like with some other songs on the LP, though, it is somehow not fully satisfying, as if the artist had not yet found some secret ingredient which would elevate his music to a different plane, emotionally speaking.

The vocals on this record seem to lack authority, and the character and warmth, which we would grow to associate with Young, although this may have been attributable to the mix, or to a lack of confidence by the singer in his own voice.

Neil Young was clearly a formidable talent, and this had been demonstrated by his contributions to Buffalo Springfield. This record contains some glimpses of his potential, but for me it lacks a certain bite and conviction, qualities which were admittedly not slow in emerging on his second solo album. Here, though, things are strangely low-key and even hesitant.  Not a false start, but equally not altogether convincing.

Should we be surprised at how this record turned out, though? 1968 was a transitional year, in the direction of rock music, and in the cultural and political outlook of Western youth. Some of the tension, anxiety and uncertainty of the time is undoubtedly reflected in these songs.

It is easy to forget, too, that this was his first solo effort.  Previously, he had been part of bands. An unevenness is therefore not totally surprising, and it does merit attention as a period piece, and as the start of a wondrous journey. It is folly to try to look for a "pattern" in the man's career. As the world was to discover, Neil Young did not favour simple patterns or easy options, and this is one of the reasons why his body of work remains so important and absorbing.

Fifth Dimension - The Byrds - album review

I recently listened to Fifth Dimension, the third album by The Byrds, released in 1966. When the Byrds back catalogue was remastered and re-issued back in the 1990s, I remember thinking that this album was very patchy.  Would the passage of time have altered my opinion of it?

Whether or not Fifth Dimension is the first proper psychedelic album is neither here nor there. For several reasons, it has a different feel to the two Byrds records which had preceded it. The warmth of the folk ambience has gone, to be replaced by something more brittle and disjointed. There is no lack of ideas per se, but musical inspiration and substantial songcraft are in short supply.

The absence of Gene Clark from the majority of the album is keenly felt. The emotional depth of his songwriting, not to mention the authority and personality contained in his vocals. This, together with the decision not to include Bob Dylan covers, left the band's resources exposed. The creative onus was therefore largely on Jim/Roger McGuinn and David Crosby, Chris Hillman having yet to emerge as a songwriting force. The philosophical raw material was certainly present, but the musical content did not match up to it.

Many reviews of this album describe it as "uneven".  I don't fully share this assessment. If anything, it is flat and uninspired rather than uneven.  In purely melodic terms, some of the songs sound like they could have been rejected for inclusion on the first two albums (the "title" track, perhaps, and "John Riley").

For all these misgivings, the vocal harmonies and the chiming 12-string Rickenbacker guitar are always a joy to behold, even if these ingredients are less pervasive here.  The songs explore a wide range of interesting and often challenging subject matter. Ambitious, if not thematically consistent.

A track such as "Mr Spaceman", though somewhat lightweight, comes as light relief. It reflects McGuinn's fascination in areas such as space, science-fiction and aviation. Stylistically it illustrates the band's growing interest in country music, a direction which would continue to burgeon.

The two most overtly "psychedelic" numbers are "I See You" and "What's Happening". The former in particular presages the kind of material which would characterize "Younger Than Yesterday" the following year. "What's Happening" is quintessential Crosby, and it works well here, as it doesn't draw undue attention to itself.

Arguably the centerpiece of the set is "Eight Miles High".  However revolutionary it may have seemed in the mid-60s, today it feels less markedly awe-inspiring. As with other pieces, it feels like in trying desperately hard to be "cool", the Byrds risk sounding uncommitted, anaemic and detached.

"Hey Joe" is energetic, but ultimately must be seen as filler.  The same tags apply to the instrumental item "Captain Soul". "John Riley" is very crisply performed and pretty to the ears, and the strings are judiciously used, but it's nothing out of the ordinary.

2-4-2 Fox Trot (The Lear Jet Song) adds some novelty as a closer. I like the guitar riff, too.

To the uninitiated, Fifth Dimension might sound like a compilation of out-takes, curiosities and left-overs. It is an album which is more important "culturally" than its musical and artistic substance truly merits. An experimental pivot between two periods in the development of The Byrds.  They are to be praised for expanding their horizons, but the results are mixed. Few would have guessed that the next two albums to be recorded by the band would be their best.

Beggars Banquet - The Rolling Stones - album review

One or two critics have asserted that Beggars Banquet, released by The Rolling Stones in 1968, is the greatest album of the Sixties. I might not go that far myself, but it is certainly a wonderful album, and one which helped to usher in the band's most creative and turbulent period.

The group, clearly ill-at-ease during the psychedelic era, appeared to be much more at home in 1968's changing cultural and social climate.  They were also more comfortable performing rootsier music, and these sounds somehow more closely reflected and complemented the uneasy or revolutionary sentiments which were supposedly prevalent in '68.

Beggars Banquet also witnessed a solidifying of the Jagger-Richards axis, as their songwriting became ever more prolific and and focused, and Brian Jones' influence gradually diminished.  Did the image of Keith Richards as the "heart and soul" of the Stones arise from necessity, as he was obliged to perform many of the functions previously undertaken by Jones?

In the past, I have tended to view some of the songs on this record as trite or lacking in cultural finesse, trying a little too hard to reflect the tenor of the times. However, after repeated scrutiny I would say that surprisingly little of it sounds corny or misjudged nowadays. I wasn't around in 1968, so I can't comment on how it might have sounded in the context of what was "going on" in those days.  The Beatles did seem to evoke the uncertainty and edginess of the time more acutely on "The White Album", with a minimum of effort and the conspicuous absence of any soap-box, but then again popular perception would have expected the Stones to put out a more overtly "angry" and visceral commentary.

The sound and production have a distinctly earthy flavour to them, redolent of honest toil, and therefore in keeping with the ethos which may or may not have been underpinning the project. Whether this was a conscious effort is difficult to say; what is certain is that the album would not have had the same gravitas and vigour had it been given a smoother and more polished sheen. The guitars (both electric and acoustic) sound splendid throughout.

As opening tracks go, "Sympathy For The Devil" takes some beating, and does kind of set the tone, both musically and atmospherically. The Stones had hinted at such "menace" in the past, but here was its most vibrant and stark manifestation. Opinions may vary as to precisely what Mick and Keith were getting at here, but none can deny that it captures the essence of the album and the popular image of 1968.

If "Sympathy For The Devil" is seen as being a standard-bearer for the spirit of Beggars Banquet, then tracks such as "No Expectations" and "Dear Doctor" are its DNA, with their acoustic bluesy rawness. The former features one of Brian Jones' last notable musical contributions as a member of the Rolling Stones, in the form of his haunting slide guitar part. The rendition of "Prodigal Son" is in a similar vein.

Of course, another song which attracted, and continues to attract, much attention is "Street Fighting Man", with its nicely ambivalent lyrical outlook and its blistering acoustic guitars. What it perhaps lacks in melodic subtlety it more than makes up for in power and robustness, and the instrumentation is pleasingly fuzzy.

I used to dismiss "Jigsaw Puzzle" as superior and stylish filler, but over time it has grown on me. The lyrics sound less and less like a poor man's Bob Dylan the more I listen to them, and the melody is deceptively vibrant and clever. Some more good slide guitar here, and nice separation between the instruments ensures that the rhythm section and the piano can be appreciated with some clarity.

Some people might dismiss "Stray Cat Blues" as a mere prototype for future Stones endeavours, or even "Stones by numbers", but in my view it is one of their finest and most formidable album tracks. Many elements coalesce to make it memorable, including the riffs and feline guitar lines, Charlie Watts' muscular drumming, and Jagger's lascivious vocal delivery.

The set is concluded with the two most obviously "blue collar" and "proletarian" items, "Factory Girl" and "Salt Of The Earth". "Factory Girl" is a rather charming and unpretentious number.  The song which follows it is musically strong, although the "anthemic" choruses can be grating, and the excessive second half of the song rather spoils the effect for me . Very much "of its time", and it is therefore churlish to be too harsh forty-seven years later.

I would say that Beggars Banquet ranks very high for me as far as Stones albums are concerned, second only to Exile On Main Street I would say.  There is very much a demarcation between what was recorded in 1968 (we should include the single "Jumping Jack Flash" in such deliberations) and what had gone before. This record is not as immediately enjoyable or accessible as Sticky Fingers, Some Girls or even Let It Bleed, and it might seem like hard work to begin with, but soon enough its abrasive self-confidence becomes evident.  Essential to an understanding of the Stones and the evolution of their music.

The Band - The Band (the second album) - album review

Following on from my blog post about The Band's debut album (Music From Big Pink), I thought I'd take a look at the 1969 follow-up, their self-titled magnum opus.

The Bob Dylan influence is much less overt, and there is virtually no discernible overlap with the folk-rock and/or psychedelic movements.  Robbie Robertson's blossoming songwriting prowess is clear for all to see, and the songs sound much less derivative of particular styles. On this work The Band almost created their own sub-genre from a stew of diverse musical influences. It is a thrilling snapshot of a potent idea more or less fully crystallizing.

This record also feels more philosophically and spiritually "together", although that perception may not hold up to minute scrutiny.  Above all, the key to this album's enduring quality and allure is its sheer " musicality", and it reminds us that passion, soul and ingenuity are at least as important as conventional technical prowess or virtuosity in generating art.

The first number "Across The Great Divide" sets things up perfectly. That opening line ("standing by your window in pain...") invites the listener on an invigorating journey. Those bars encapsulate so much of what makes them a captivating act.

"Rag Mama Rag" illustrates the subtle advance which was made between the first album and this one. I have heard Robbie Robertson say how proud he was of this track, and one can see why. So many elements contribute towards its uniqueness - Rick Danko's violin, Garth Hudson's twinkling piano, the humour of the lyrics and the blending of "unusual" instruments. Intangible magic is the result.

Among the general public, "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" is the best known song on this record, and one of the most famous in The Band's oeuvre. A powerful piece of work, with a theme which was probably "unfashionable" for its time. To be frank, I have never truly warmed to it, possibly because I was familiar with it before I discovered, and embraced, the group's wider body of work.

On an LP of this quality it is harsh to speak of "lesser" tracks, but the likes of "Rockin' Chair" and "When You Awake" constitute the glue which holds it together. The former contains some lovely and touching lyrics.  One of the things which set The Band apart from most of their contemporaries was the variety and imagination of the topics which were addressed in the compositions.  The acclaim which was (rightly) accorded to their music sometimes concealed their willingness to tackle dark or uncomfortable themes. As with the "Big Pink" album, the deliciously ragged and earthy harmonies emanating from three distinct voices permeate the piece.

"Up On Cripple Creek" is cut in a similar vein to "Rag Mama Rag", and could be categorized as "country funk", a label which was often assigned to Little Feat, a group which was seemingly heavily influenced by The Band. The groove is irresistible but idiosyncratic.  The clavinet both accentuates the "funkiness" and in a strange way complements it, as it sounds rustic and bucolic as well as rhythmic. The song also highlights the importance of varied keyboard textures in the make-up and vitality of the band's music.

A change of mood is supplied by "Whispering Pines", which also serves as a showcase for Richard Manuel's vocals, such a feature of the first two albums in particular. Fragile, shaky but a gripping listen. Inventive use of keyboards and vocal interplay to engender the requisite atmosphere.

Two of the most impressive and affecting songs appear towards the end of the album. "Jawbone" has received comparatively scant phrase, possibly a result of its musical complexity, but to me it is one of the work's cornerstones. Another vocal tour-de-force from Richard Manuel, expressing and interpreting some strong and incisive lyrics.

"King Harvest (Has Surely Come)" has been rightly revered by the critics. Almost Steinbeckesque in its setting and poetic sentiments, with Manuel once again in inspired form. At first glance, the R&B backing might seem incongruous, but it actually works beautifully. A real high point of The Band's catalogue, and it can be persuasively argued that they never achieved this level again.

How do I sum up "The Band"?  Well, let me just say that if I was being banished to a desert island, and was allowed to take just one album with me, I would almost certainly plump for this one. Its innate musicality, humanity and zest for life still sustain me today, almost two decades since I first heard it. Whenever I listen to it after a period "away" it refreshes my enthusiasm for music in all its forms, and makes me glad to be alive.

Music From Big Pink - The Band - album review

There are relatively few rock albums which can be said to have heralded a shift in the prevailing direction of rock music, but The Band's Music From Big Pink, released in 1968, is one of those. Its honesty and earthiness went against the trends of the time, and persuaded listeners and fellow musicians alike that there was another way.  It also came to epitomize the notion of "Americana", in rock music terms anyway.

In truth, the true "Band" sound did not fully emerge until 1969's eponymous second album, but Music From Big Pink had something approaching a seismic impact. The likes of Eric Clapton and George Harrison were enraptured, not just by the musical content, but also by the ethos and the modus operandi which underpinned it. There was no suggestion of The Band confronting the existing music scene ; they just played what came from their hearts and souls.

In asserting that the group's signature style was not fully shaped on the debut effort, we are acknowledging that they had only just struck out on their own, having spent much of the previous decade backing other people, most famously Bob Dylan of course. The Dylan/Basement Tapes influence is still keenly felt, with three of the songs originating from that era. In addition, Robbie Robertson did not yet dominate the songwriting stakes as he did on the "brown album" the following year. This renders the album less cohesive than its successor.

It is one of the numbers co-written by Bob Dylan, "Tears Of Rage", which opens the record, and for me it is one of the highlights. The boys make the track their own, and Richard Manuel's superb vocal brings out the full poignancy of the lyrics. As so often with The Band, the keyboards are much to the fore, but all the band members contribute in creating a most engrossing rendition. This is also an early taste of the distinctive vocal harmonies which would help to make The Band's music so captivating. Three distinct voices (Richard Manuel, Levon Helm, Rick Danko), blending and weaving together in a kind of ragged glory.  Few groups could boast a performance as confident and affecting as this to open their debut album.

This vocal interplay plays a prominent role in "To Kingdom Come", especially in the choruses. This track exudes the R&B-influenced ruggedness which would come to characterize much of the Band's best output in the years which followed.

Although The Band were often cited as an antidote to psychedelic music and its excesses and pretensions, they came perilously close here to making a psychedelic song, in the form of "In A Station". The mildly ethereal keyboard and guitar sounds, together with some of the lyrics, certainly point in that direction. However, these factors are counter-balanced by the homeliness and finesse typical of the group.

I always feel that "Caledonia Mission" is a Band song par excellence, with its blend of country/folk flavours with R&B funkiness, and its enigmatic but compelling lyrics. Perhaps Rick Danko's most impressive lead vocal performance with The Band.

"The Weight" is possibly the group's most famous song, and it has an enduring appeal, part of which is in interpreting the biblical and other imagery.  I think that many people imagine that the song is espousing the sense of community which is often associated with the group's music, but it seems that it was intended to be somewhat more complicated than that. What I really like is the simplicity of the arrangement, with the platform of acoustic guitar, drums and bass embellished by Garth Hudson's engaging piano flourishes. The interest is heightened by the switching of lead vocals between the three primary singers.

"We Can Talk" is a delight, from the sumptuous organ-driven introduction, to the amusing lyrics, to the satisfying drum sound (a feature of the whole album, incidentally).  Those inimitable vocal harmonies are more rugged and likeable here than ever, and the soulful "middle-eight" section still surprises and pleases after repeated listens.

"Long Black Veil" and "This Wheel's On Fire" are probably the two weakest cuts on the record. The former, although lyrically interesting, comes out as ponderous and uninspired. "This Wheel's On Fire" has never really grabbed me as a song, and the Band's interpretation is not a patch on their own versions of "Tears Of Rage" and "I Shall Be Released".

There is a case for saying that "Big Pink" is more outright soulful and permeated with rhythm and blues than the follow-up, and "Chest Fever" is a prime example of this, although there is a strong dose of Johann Sebastian Bach (the organ sounds) as well as Sam and Dave!  The snare drum is once again a feature, and this recording contains some of Robbie Robertson's most effective and dextrous guitar work.

The next track, "Lonesome Suzie" can almost pass the listener by unless close attention is paid. Richard Manuel excels here, on his own composition, and his fragile and expressive vocal is complemented by delicate keyboard and guitar parts. The organ is a reminder of the pivotal role played by Garth Hudson, and his versatility, in the potency and vitality of The Band's music.

Although Music From Big Pink did not attain massive commercial success, it still endures as one of rock music's most important records. It has a pull subtly different from the sophomore release which followed. It sounds as fresh and as "musical" now as it must have done way back in the late 1960s.

Singer-Songwriters

One of the joys and satisfactions of rock music is being able to follow, and identify with, the thought processes of the artist, and chart their growth (or regression), and the fluctuating course of their personal fortunes and attitudes. This is easier when one is dealing with singer-songwriters.

The "singer-songwriter" genre can arguably trace its roots back to Delta Blues, or even further back to the days of wandering minstrels and troubadours, and the early days of rock n roll saw the emergence of such figures as Buddy Holly and Eddie Cochran. However, if we are thinking in terms of the modern "rock" scene then, like so many things, it began with Bob Dylan.

Not only did Dylan make it viable and credible for people to express themselves creatively entirely through their own compositions and ideas, but he also laid down many of the ground rules, by giving validity to the notion of such views and observations being poured out in a challenging and poetic way.

The mental stimulation in absorbing the work of singer-songwriters is to a large extent in the concentration of the thoughts and interests of one person. This is not really possible in the case of groups and bands, even those whose members write tunes prolifically, because the message is often confused and fragmented, reflecting the diverse personalities and outlooks of the people who make up the ensemble, and the compromises made in the creative process. With a single creative engine, the message can still be occasionally confused and contradictory, but leaves the listener safe in the knowledge that this is the psyche of a single individual, with all its idiosyncrasies and foibles.

Although there have been great singer-songwriters in more recent decades, the "genre" enjoyed a golden age in the period from the late 1960s through to the mid-1970s, on both sides of the Atlantic. Many of the foremost practitioners hailed from the folk movement, and folk's capacity for, and tradition of, storytelling and social conscience stood them in good stead in this new environment. Some of these figures achieved both critical acclaim and commercial success (Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne), while others had to be content with admiration from their peers, long-term influence or royalties from cover versions of their songs (Laura Nyro , Gene Clark, Tom Waits, Nick Drake.).

 

The zenith of the 70s singer-songwriter scene probably occurred around 1974, when several prominent artists released seminal works. Jackson Browne's "Late For The Sky", "No Other" by Gene Clark and Neil Young's "On The Beach" are just a few which instantly spring to mind. All different in their own ways, but each representing a kind of peak. "No Other" and "On The Beach" are arguably untypical of their architect's general output, and partly for this reason stand out all the more.

 

In the mid-1970s the lustre of the "confessional" and "introspective" genre faded. Most of what was there to be said had already been said, and the artists naturally began to branch out and explore fresh territory.  The social climate was also less conducive to what some regarded as self-indulgent navel-gazing.

 

The appeal, though, of the singer-songwriter has never really gone away. The 80s saw the likes of Suzanne Vega and Tracy Chapman achieve both artistic credibility and bounteous record sales, and people will always be receptive to the vulnerable and earnest person wielding a guitar, or sitting at a piano, pouring out angst, anger or regret.

 

Many of my most rewarding musical experiences of recent times have been in discovering the work of the great  singer-songwriters of the past;the likes of Fred Neil, David Ackles and Jackson C Frank. The work of such artists remains piquant and stimulating, and is well worth checking out.

 

Whatever the caprices of musical favour, the singer-songwriter, in whatever form he or she takes, will never disappear.

Protest Songs

The early years of rock & roll were primarily notable for songs about the pleasures of the flesh or youthful rebellion. However, as the Sixties wore on, and the social and inter-generational atmosphere grew more febrile and unstable, the frontiers of rock expanded, and lyrics became more diverse, experimental and profound. The protest song genre was very much part of this overall pushing back of the boundaries. I have lately embarked on an intensely "political" phase, and this subject therefore came to the forefront of my mind.

 

Protest songs take several forms, all of which have their own virtues and hallmarks. The most overtly powerful, but also the most ephemeral, is the song written on the spur of the moment, often in a spontaneous outpouring of rage, indignation or dismay, and in reaction to a traumatic or tragic incident. An example which springs to mind instantly is "Ohio" by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Songs such as this make up in rawness and sincerity what they may lack in long-term universal anthemic potential. Even if some of the precise cultural references may mean less these days, they are formidable period pieces, with a unique appeal.

 

The track which for me stands out as the ultimate protest number is "Fortunate Son" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.  Clearly addressing an emotive and topical theme of 1969, but also espousing many sentiments which have remained common ever since. The clinching factor is the fact that "Fortunate Son" is, in purely musical terms,  a rip-roaring piece of rock & roll. John Fogerty could be singing about washing-up liquid and it would still be a great record.  However, the lyrics elevate it to something else again, the frenetic pace of the arrangement ideally complementing the anger being expressed.

The other "Vietnam era" protest song which still packs a real punch, and stands up well, is "Draft Morning" by The Byrds. An ethereal vibe pervades this one, punctuated by sound effects depicting the horrors of war. A different approach to "Fortunate Son", but still highly effective and memorable.

Creedence Clearwater Revival recorded one or two other excellent protest records. "Bad Moon Rising", to the uninitiated, could be open to several interpretations, but now it seems clear that it was a lament about the political events of the late 1960s in the United States. "Who'll Stop The Rain" is a more wide-ranging, if equally forthright, commentary on the ills and turmoil of those times. John Fogerty's passionate songs had an honesty, directness and clarity which was sometimes lacking in the "social commentary" and posturing of the psychedelic and singer-songwriter crowds.

Jackson Browne, initially renowned for his introspective and personal lyrics, grew more overtly concerned with social and political issues as his career developed. In his case, I always found the satirical approach more convincing than his direct "protest" material. "The Pretender", from 1976, was eerily shrewd in its assessment of where the wind was blowing, and prescient about the careerism and economic rapaciousness which would fully emerge in the decade which followed, even raising concern about "work/life balance".  "Lawyers In Love", released in the early 1980s, is a cynical, if astute and amusing, take on the Cold War and cultural imperialism. If not "protest songs" in the conventional sense, both "The Pretender" and "Lawyers In Love" deliver a thought-provoking and coherent message without sounding either self-righteous or corny.

Then there is the carefully researched campaigning song, bringing an injustice to wider attention, as perfectly exemplified by Bob Dylan's "Hurricane".  The Rolling Stones delivered their own distinct, and sometimes ambiguous, verdict on the upheavals of the late 60s with songs such as "Street Fighting Man" and "Gimme Shelter".

These are just examples from what may loosely be termed the "classic rock" era, and of course other musical genres have been equally prolific in commenting on political matters. The concept of "the protest album" is most popularly encapsulated by Marvin Gaye's magnificent "What's Going On".  Of course, protest and activism is in the very DNA of folk music and folk-rock.

An interesting debate would be whether the protest song is less prevalent and favoured than it used to be, in "mainstream" music at least?  Did the financial crisis of a few years ago produce any great protest songs, or is the music scene now so fragmented that such tracks do not gain widespread recognition?

 

Desire - Bob Dylan - album review

Conventional wisdom has it that "Desire" was Bob Dylan's last record before his career entered another creative dip, lasting the best part of two decades. This may indeed be true, but the album merits examination, as one of the most enigmatic and intriguing of the great man's career.

One difficulty which some new listeners may encounter with "Desire" is that of "accessibility". The record is cloaked in an intangible shroud of mystery and vague nebulousness.  It is only when one sees through this cloud that the confidence and substance of the record can be fully savoured.

It is a more eclectic and varied album, lyrically at least, than "Blood On The Tracks", with the songs addressing a range of topics, from social injustice and relationships to travel and spirituality. Amid the diversity, some cohesion is supplied by the violin and the vocals of Emmylou Harris. These elements lend a pleasingly melodic and exotic texture to proceedings. It is surprising to note how little guitar work features here.

The mournful and reflective nature of some of the compositions, and the outward impression of sonic ennui and melancholy, are deceptive. I detect a real freedom about the work here, of a singer-songwriter warming to his task, bolstered by the presence of new collaborators and a sense of liberation from any straitjackets. The songs are perhaps less immediately engaging emotionally, but the subject matter is challenging, provocative and fresh. The songwriting tie-up with Jacques Levy doubtless contributed to the impetus and creative vigour. In places even Dylan's singing exhibits a certain exuberance.

"Hurricane" is the imposing and relentless opener, one of the most notable protest songs ever recorded. Unlike many protest numbers, this one stands up musically in its own right, and the melody and backing also ideally complement the message. If anyone doubted Dylan's capacity to still turn out music of power and relevance in the mid-1970s, this was their answer. Still as potent and resonant almost four decades later.

Serving as the other "bookend" of "Desire" is "Sara", one of  Dylan's most nakedly personal and candid songs, harking back to "Blood On The Tracks" in some ways. The presence at either end of the album of emphatic social commentary and frank confession is proof that all the bases of singer-songwriterdom were comfortably mastered, although Dylan stood, consciously or otherwise, outside any particular movement or "scene" by 1976.

Of the songs in between, "Isis" is to me the most affecting, combining lyrically the flavour of Dylan's mid-60s work with his less cryptic and oblique later style.

If there is a theme to this album, one could argue that it is preoccupied with drifters, outlaws and outcasts, if one also notes the presence of such songs as "One More Cup Of Coffee", "Joey" and "Romance In Durango". Whether this direction was itself a commentary on the times, or on anyone's state of mind, is open to question.

On first listen, "Desire" can seem like some of the jaded and listless American singer-songwriter fare being released circa 1976. However, it has much more vibrancy, focus and depth than that, and stands as possibly Dylan's last truly important record.

The Last Waltz

Whenever the subject of "greatest concert movie" or "best rock movie" comes up for discussion, it has become almost obligatory for Martin Scorsese's "The Last Waltz", a document of The Band's 1976 "farewell" performance, to be placed at the top, or the near the top, of the list.

The film is made up of The Band's performances of their own songs, and a series of guest appearances onstage by many of the musical luminaries of the time.  All this is interspersed with interviews, conducted by Scorsese himself, with the members of the Band, in which they provide recollections of their years on the road.

Although I feel that some of the praise lavished on "The Last Waltz" has been a touch excessive, it is still an affecting and rather poignant picture, being seen by many as signifying, or symbolizing, the close of the "classic rock" era.

The first song in the movie, "Don't Do It", was actually done as an encore, but it was an astute choice as the film's opener, as it helps to illustrate what The Band was all about, and where they came from. It is probably fair to say that The Band had passed their peak as a live act at that point, but they definitely rose to the occasion here.

As with The Band, some of the guest artists had also seen better days creatively, but Scorsese's affinity for music, and his abilities as a film-maker, enable him to capture much of the essence of the 1970s rock scene. Many of those artists had some connection with The Band, having influenced them, collaborated with them, or just been friends. They encompassed every genre and sub-genre which made up The Band's appetising musical stew - rock n roll, blues, country, gospel, soul, folk, even Tin Pan Alley.

The interview segments are highly entertaining, with many colourful anecdotes from the group's varied career. The "between song" banter is often loosely connected with the guest artist whose performance immediately follows. This helps to ensure that "The Last Waltz" is not just a routine run through a series of songs. It is also educational, informative and evocative of a lost time.

It is interesting to note that many of the most memorable performances in "The Last Waltz" come from the supposedly less "exalted" guest stars. Ronnie Hawkins and Dr John both exude charisma, but in an endearingly old-fashioned, unpretentious manner, in contrast to some of the precious mainstream rock stars.

The let-down for me is the Neil Young segment. I have always felt that "Helpless" is quite a mediocre, listless and irritating song, and it seems a poor choice in this particular context. especially when he had plenty of great, more exciting and dynamic songs to choose from.

On the other hand, Van Morrison is quite mesmeric, resplendent in purple, giving an exuberant and animated performance of the wonderful "Caravan".  There was a musical empathy between The Band and Van, and this may have been the secret to the magic here.

It is noticeable how much The Band enjoyed and relished playing other people's songs, and performing alongside musicians who they respected or revered, and these sentiments appear to have been heartily reciprocated. The blues-orientated acts (Muddy Waters, Paul Butterfield, Eric Clapton) also worked very well in this environment, again perhaps hinting at a special rapport with The Band and their ethos, which stressed feel and soul over virtuosity. 

When reviewing the Band's "solo" performances here, the powerful and heartfelt rendering of "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" is the highlight - a song which seemed more effective onstage than on record.  It is also interesting to note the pre-eminence of Levon Helm in the vocal department throughout, arguably reflecting the power-shift within the group as the 1970s progressed.

The beautiful lighting and camerawork assist in engendering a particular atmosphere in this movie, to the extent that the setting sometimes feels less "rock and roll" than retro Hollywood. A couple of numbers (featuring the Staple Singers and Emmylou Harris) were recorded separately in a "studio" setting.

With repeated viewing and analysis, the musical performances in "The Last Waltz" become slightly less dazzling, but as a snapshot of an era in music, and of the fondness with which a magical group was regarded by its peers, this is great viewing.

Pet Sounds - The Beach Boys - album review

Such an aura surrounds this album that on initial listenings the primary reaction can be one of disappointment or anti-climax. However, this is an album which demands repeated attention before the melodies and messages seep into the psyche. The process took a little while for me. I, like countless millions of others, was raised on the Beach Boys' naive but infectious hits of the earlier years. Undeveloped or immature musical antennae were ill-equipped to discern the musical signposts which pointed the way towards the glories of "Pet Sounds".

As time passes, the thing which occurs more and more to me about "Pet Sounds" is its overall cohesiveness, in musical and spiritual terms. This sets it apart from the Beach Boys' previous output, and that of many other people for that matter. The backing does not sound like it was created using conventional musical instruments, but by some otherworldly implements. This factor, and the conceptual unity of the subject matter, permit the songs to blend together seamlessly and naturally. The only blemish in this happy scenario is "Sloop John B", which comes perilously close to marring the whole effect....

Was this a Brian Wilson solo project in all but name? Well, he had been exerting greater artistic pre-eminence and control for a couple of years prior to these sessions, and it is fair to say that most of the other Beach Boys were almost reduced to cameo roles, Carl Wilson's glorious vocal on "God Only Knows" being one of these. Brian appears to have handled much of the singing on the album himself, and block harmonies are not as abundant as elsewhere in the Beach Boys canon. As had been the trend, top session musicians provided the bulk of the instrumental prowess.  In this respect, the approach was quite uncompromising, although the end result would seem to justify the thoroughness and care lavished on the production.

"Pet Sounds" shines like a beacon because of its distinctive character and sound when set against the other trend-setting and groundbreaking rock and pop releases of that period, including those by the Beatles and Bob Dylan. "Pet Sounds" almost existed in isolation, on the surface not influenced by its immediate contemporaries and "rivals". Conversely, it served as a shock or wake-up call to others, notably Paul McCartney.

It is possible to contend that "Pet Sounds" was an alternative way of viewing what was "going on" in the mid-Sixties, or maybe a slightly different way of interpreting or channeling the spirit of the era. Others had hinted at similar preoccupations, but this was presented as a fully-formed creation.

"Pet Sounds" has the same kind of immersiveness and all-encompassing engagement more normally associated with classical music. It appeals to the senses in a manner more subtle and surreptitious than most "rock" music. For all that, it is still replete with hooks and pop sensibility. In a sense, the voices and instruments are indivisible and indistinguishable from each other, all equally important in setting and expressing the emotions . One greater "mood piece", and a concept album before such a notion was fashionable.

The journey commences with something adhering to the concept, but which is also accessible - "Wouldn't It Be Nice".  The work is anchored and signposted with such gems as "God Only Knows" and "Caroline, No". For me though the tracks which most acutely exemplify the spirit of the album are the eerie instrumental "Let's Go Away for Awhile" and "Dont Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder).

Lest anyone form the idea that this is all sentimental candyfloss , there is also much angst and soul-searching in there ("I Just Wasn't Made For These Times", "I Know There's An Answer").  Brian Wilson famously dubbed "Pet Sounds" a "teenage symphony to God", and the record does depict and explore a range of emotions encountered by young people, but not exclusively by young people;the themes are universal.

Even allowing for its mystique and reputation, I imagine that "Pet Sounds" still confuses people when they first hear it, because it is so distinctive. If it wasn't as socially significant as other records of its time, then as an artistic achievement it still stands up today.  In a strange way, it both operates as a monument to its time, and exists outside the strait-jacket of being categorized as "sixties", because of its dreamy and ethereal flavour and its sonic composition. Even the sleeve photograph, which has come in for much ridicule, somehow adds to the effect. By 1966, artists were expected to come up with outlandish or esoteric cover art. On "Pet Sounds", the words and music say all that needs to be said....

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan - album review

It is often said that the series of albums recorded and released by Bob Dylan in the period 1965-66 represents one of the most fertile bursts of creativity of any artist, ushering in the "rock" era by making mainstream popular music socially relevant and worthy of critical and erudite analysis. I too subscribe to these theories, but in recent times the worthiness of Blonde On Blonde to belong in the same company as its two predecessors has become questionable to me. I sense a propensity to bracket the record with those which went immediately before it, simply because it was Bob Dylan, and that it must be similarly wonderful because to say otherwise would spoil the narrative...

The two albums which came before, Bringing It All Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited, were effervescent efforts, brimming with creativity, bearing all the hallmarks of a man with lots to say, and who was eager to express himself. There was a breathlessness, spontaneity and urgency about the songs, which must have seemed at the time to form an inexhaustible reserve.

It is curious that Dylan himself has been quoted as saying that Blonde On Blonde constituted the "sound" which he had been aiming for all along.  There is certainly a "progression" of sorts in the character and ambience of the three albums, from the vitality, energy and bite of Bringing It All Back Home to the jaded cloudiness and ennui of Blonde On Blonde. The fact that the great man's career took a dramatic detour immediately afterwards may or may not be instructive....

There is a deceptive listlessness to many of the songs, particularly the longer "epics" such as "Visions of Johanna" and "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands". On the other side of the coin, I have come to regard many of the tracks as bordering on "comedy songs" ("Rainy Day Women #12 & 35, "Just Like A Woman", "Leopard Skin Pill-Box Hat"). This may indicate that my hipster antennae are insufficiently developed. Their exuberance does at least balance out and alleviate some of the gloominess which otherwise pervades the work.

When saying that on close inspection the songs are not as instantly and spectacularly memorable as those on the two earlier records, it is also true to say that Blonde On Blonde hangs together very well as a mood piece, the kind of album to immerse oneself in on a rainy Sunday afternoon. The lack of immediate accessibility demands a patience which not everyone possesses!

The lyrics are less cryptic and oblique than on earlier records, but in their own way just as enigmatic and impenetrable, if less conventionally evocative.  Equally, the soundscapes are more murky and nebulous. These factors do contribute to the album's relative absence of overt sparkle and immediacy, but they also imbue it with its distinctive quality.

Although it is commonly asserted that the "turning point" in Dylan's career occurred shortly after this album was released, it might be more accurate to state that Blonde On Blonde itself signals a new beginning. Despite all all my caveats, provisos and reservations, it is still a rewarding and ultimately enjoyable listen, and essential to an understanding of the Dylan mystique....

My blog posts about other Bob Dylan albums:

Blood On The Tracks

Highway 61 Revisited

Bringing It All Back Home

Blood On The Tracks - Bob Dylan - album review

It is a truism that albums, or records generally, assume greater personal relevance or resonance if they touch on a raw area of experience for the listener.  The words and themes begin to loom much larger in the consciousness.

For me, an example of this is Bob Dylan's Blood On The Tracks, released in early 1975. Until comparatively recently, I had respected this as a collection of frank, confessional and well-crafted songs, and could understand the eulogies which placed this album among the foremost achievements in Dylan's career. However, listening to it in recent months has infused this music with a new poignancy and power for me.

The writing and recording of this collection of songs took place amid personal turmoil and upheaval for the songwriter.  These factors undoubtedly helped to catalyse matters, although it is also fair to argue that Dylan's artistic vitality was on something of an upswing anyway as the mid-Seventies approached.

In strict musical terms there is little which is out of the ordinary on Blood On The Tracks, but it is the combination of lyrics, and the atmosphere evoked by the melodies and soundscape, which creates the overall effect. In fact, some might find the diet of acoustic guitars a little samey and stodgy, but in general the compelling poetry and songcraft override such qualms.

The record opens with three or four memorable songs, on which much of the album's reputation is founded.

Many people who have never heard the record assume (like I once did) that this is almost a concept album, but I think that this is a misrepresentation.  Yes, the lyrics to most of the tracks address issues of regret, loneliness and melancholy, but there is sufficient variation in context and scenario to make each song self-contained and autonomous.  The opener "Tangled Up in Blue" sets the tone, but it would be a mistake to assume that every song is just a derivation of this one.

The album is filled with powerful tracks, but for me the most affecting by far is "Simple Twist Of Fate".  A masterly amalgam of Dylan's lyrical styles, it achieves the rare distinction of compelling the listener to conjure up visual images, as well as acute emotions, in his or her mind.

"You're A Big Girl Now" has a resolutely mid-Seventies sheen and ambience, reminding me of a oppressively humid and mournful summer's evening.  Some very pleading and heartfelt vocal lines from the great man, and rich but wistful chord changes, contribute to the overall effect.

The next number, "Idiot Wind", almost has a "runaway" quality about it, and the lyrics and singing contain a blend of indignation and resignation.  This is all augmented and complemented by the "airless" production, promoted in part by the organ.

At the mid-point, "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go" serves to inject some more simplicity and spontaneity, harking back to Dylan's pre-1967 output, albeit with tinges of the melodic and production motifs which run through this whole album.

Of the later tracks, (I will skip the Dylan-by-numbers of "Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts"), the most impactful is the heart-wrenching "If You See Her, Say Hello", which has a genuine pathos, even by the standards of Blood On The Tracks.  The singing also feels spontaneous, rather than the result of some affectation.

"Shelter From The Storm" is another one which is redolent of Dylan's compositions circa 1964/65, but less oblique lyrically, and it retains the interest, and ticks thematic boxes, sufficiently to feel at home in this company.  One of this record's unheralded strengths is the mixture of dense and stripped-down arrangements, which temper what could have become a feeling of claustrophobia.

Many "classic" albums tend to have a real tour-de-force for a closing track, a bookend of real stamp.  "Buckets of Rain" scarcely qualifies as such, but its downbeat and ascetic pallor is strangely appropriate here.

In purely musical terms quite conservative, Blood On The Tracks nevertheless has a sincerity, directness and emotional punch which make it special.  In its own way, as substantial as anything produced by Bob Dylan.

Highway 61 Revisited - Bob Dylan - album review

There are many debates, and much conjecture, about when the modern "rock" era truly began, but there is an argument for citing Bob Dylan's 1965 album Highway 61 Revisited as one of the key staging posts.

It is often taken for granted, or taken as a given, that Highway 61 Revisited is Dylan's greatest achievement, and in historical and critical terms it probably is. It contains some of his most famous songs, and has an ambition and grandeur absent from much of his other work.

Personally, I have always found Bringing It All Back Home, released earlier in 1965, to be a more organic, rounded and likeable record, and in some respects it can be argued that it was more ground-breaking and important than the album which succeeded it.

For all its many strengths and virtues, I have somehow never fully warmed to Highway 61 Revisited. I respect and appreciate its sweep and its audacity, but I don't always find it a comfortable listen.  It feels a little over-earnest in places, and I sense that it exudes a certain smugness.  Admittedly, when the songs are this dramatic and startling, such smugness can be excused!

Dramatic and startling the songs may be, but to me they lack the fluidity and verve of those on Bringing It All Back Home.  It is possible that Dylan was aiming for something different on "Highway 61".  The tracks don't feel as tied together seamlessly, and I would describe this more as a collection of disparate, if mighty, songs than a integrated, cohesive album.

This album may not have some of the homely charm of those which preceded and followed it, but there is no disputing its overall majesty, and it does definitely possess that "wow" factor.

The opening track, "Like A Rolling Stone", is one of the landmarks of 60s rock, although it is probably no more famous than one or two of his folk "protest" songs of earlier years.  It is still astonishing to think that this song almost reached the top of the Billboard singles charts.  Driven by rhythm guitar (possibly played by Dylan himself?) and the organ of Al Kooper, it develops an irresistible momentum, as the wordplay and vocal delivery become more emphatic and daring. Each new verse adds a new dimension, and additional interest.

Just recently I heard "Tombstone Blues" described as "punk music", and I can see why.  Frantic and almost minimalist, with lyrics seemingly speaking of general disaffection and despair. After the exhilarating opening, the level drops with two less inspired tracks, "It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry", and "From a Buick 6".

"Ballad Of A Thin Man" is something else entirely. One of the most dramatic and intense songs on the album, different in tempo and atmosphere to the others.  Was this a message to Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones?

"Queen Jane Approximately" is an appealing if ultimately minor song, with a pleasing melody, and it is followed by the title track. These two numbers prepare the ground for a momentous conclusion to the work.

Containing some of the most entertaining lyrics on the album, "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" has a distinctive backing track, and a real impishness about it, which is difficult to dislike.  I have some theories about some of the words, which need not detain us here!

On to the closing number, "Desolation Row".  It can seem lyrically almost like stereotypical Dylan, with the invoking of historical characters and so forth.  However, if one really listens to it, its power really emerges.  Some might argue that it actually says little which is different from several of Bob's other compostions, but its concentrated intensity wins out. The intricate guitar backing also sets it apart.

In the end, the various minor misgivings about Highway 61 Revisited do not detract from its quality and its importance.  A superb album.

Bringing It All Back Home - Bob Dylan - album review

Of Bob Dylan's much revered "trilogy" of classic mid-1960s albums, it is Bringing It All Back Home which I find myself returning to most of all. The first of the threesome to be released, it is still my favourite, for several reasons.

First, it exudes an aura of restrained cool and quality, with an immediacy and confidence which is rare indeed. Secondly, it represents a perfect mixture of styles and themes, creating a richness of texture absent from the other two of the aforementioned trilogy. Thirdly, it contains more genuinely memorable and substantial songs than the other two.

It is all here - the beginnings of folk-rock, the lingering elements of protest, oblique lyrics, inspiring imagery. The profound, the amusing, the angry, the inspiring and the touching all within these eleven compositions. The fact that the album encompasses so many directions, from the "hipster" appeal of "Subterranean Homesick Blues" to the languid charm of "She Belongs To Me", to the revelation of "Mr Tambourine Man", is part of its impact, in addition to the quality of the execution.

There are still clear remnants of Dylan's "folk-protest" past on songs such as "Gates of Eden" and "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)", and if anything these tracks assume a greater resonance, power and venom, surrounded as they are here by numbers with very different subject matter and agendas. I am sometimes tempted to regard "It's All Over Now Baby Blue" as a kind of hinge in Dylan's career, closing the door on one era, and peering into another.  I may be incorrect in this assessment!

The sound on Bringing It All Back Home has an uncluttered, clear quality which gives it part of its accessibility. The more dense, murky feel of later albums is thankfully not evident here. Dylan's vocals are projected quite forcefully on many songs.  This was also the stage at which the "bluesy" songs still sounded original and distinctive, and not samey and stodgy.

It is some measure of the standard set by Bringing It All Back Home that it could be argued that Dylan tried too hard in struggling to surpass it.  I feel that Highway 61 Revisited, excellent though it is, sounds over-earnest and contrived in comparison. Was Bob hamstrung by the artistic brilliance and spontaneity of his first album of 1965?  Did the pressures, personal and professional, which caught up with him not long afterwards partially stem from this?

In addition to its other properties, I also find Bringing It All Back Home the most enjoyable of Dylan's classic albums.  It is an accomplishment indeed to be able to combine the cerebral with a pure entertainment value with this facility. The albums which followed never quite managed to achieve the same balance to this extent.

Listen to this album.  You will be entertained, amused, challenged and inspired.....

Sweetheart Of The Rodeo - The Byrds - album review

Continuing my non-chronlogical look at the albums of the Byrds, we now move on to the one which perhaps had the most lasting influence of all, Sweetheart of The Rodeo.

I won't become embroiled in the tiresome debate about whether this was the first "country-rock" album. Works by Bob Dylan, Gene Clark and others, released around the same time, could also qualify for that accolade. What is indisputable is that Sweetheart Of The Rodeo represented some kind of landmark. 

Listening forty-odd years on, it is striking how comparatively little "rock" there is here for an LP dubbed "country-rock".  Compared to some of the insipid fare released by other artists under the latter banner in the 1970s, this sounds almost like "purist" country music.  The session musicians employed by the band certainly add that touch of authenticity.

This is the only Byrds album to feature country-rock pioneer Gram Parsons, and many of his contributions were erased from the original release for contractual reasons.  That said, Gram's distinctive vocals are evident on at least three of the tracks.  On the remainder of the cuts, Chris Hillman and Roger McGuinn cope manfully.  Of course, David Crosby had by now departed the fold, but it is difficult to imagine his vocal harmonies suiting the country format!

The song list is a shrewd mixture of country-esque styles, including bluegrass, honky-tonk and country-soul, with a couple of Dylan numbers tastefully given the country-rock treatment.  This allows the strengths of the group members, particularly Hillman and Parsons, to be given free rein.  Underpinning all this is the backdrop provided by the sturdy session-men.  The pedal steel sound throughout is particularly soothing, even opulent.

Sensibly, the two Dylan songs are employed as "bookends" at either end of the album, anchoring the more estoteric (for mainstream ears) material in between.  The standout for me is "One Hundred Years From Now", a stirring melody backed by sumptuous pedal steel, and restrained but effective harmonies by McGuinn and Hillman.  "Hickory Wind" I often think is lauded more for what it represents than its aesthetic strenghts, and because it is Gram Parsons' "signature" tune.

The sound on the album is quite pleasing, and this has been faithfully retained by more recent remastering efforts. Crisp instrumentation, ample separation and space for the various contributors to be given full expression.  The nuances of the vocal harmonies are also nicely captured.

Sweetheart Of The Rodeo has held up well, compared to other "country rock" of its time, because The Byrds approached the project with the correct approach, that of wanting to record a country album, rather than a rock album with country tinges.  Much of what was spawned by "Sweetheart" sounds very diluted in comparison.

Of course, Hillman and Parsons were to have a further role in the marriage of country and rock, but that is another story....

The White Album - The Beatles - album review

Between the end of 1967 and the early months of 1968, the Beatles underwent some changes, and it can be argued that this period represented a watershed in their career.

They began 1968 by recording the single "Lady Madonna", and then decamped to a spiritual retreat in India.  Meanwhile, plans were being laid for the the formation of the Apple company.

Both during the sojourn in India, and in the immediate aftermath, the band members composed lots of new songs, and many of these found their way onto the eponymous double album more commonly referred to as The White Album.

The recording sessions for this work revealed the first hairline cracks in the Beatles facade, cracks which gradually developed into fissures. However, for me The Beatles is one of the most fascinating, if enigmatic, areas of the group's catalogue.

Many rock historians have interpreted the content and atmosphere of The White Album as a retreat from the psychedelic excesses of the previous two years, a trend also reflected by the Rolling Stones' Beggars Banquet, and the output of the likes of Bob Dylan, The Byrds and The Band around the same time. Many of the songs have an acoustic, rustic feel to them, and this is also a product of the circumstances under which they were written in India.

In addition to the stripped down nature of some of the numbers, there are also signs of a return to the band's rock n roll roots on "Back in the USSR", "Birthday" and "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey".  Notwithstanding this general return to a simpler and rootsier sound, the experimental was not totally abandoned, as evidenced by some of the contributions of John Lennon, notably "Revolution 9".

I see The White Album as one of the crucial stepping stones in the transition from "pop" to "serious" rock music. That said, the lyrical content of the tracks on this album varies from the esoteric ("Happiness Is A Warm Gun") to the downright banal ("Rocky Raccoon").  The eclecticism is a large part of the LP's charm, and I think that those who said that a condensed single album would have been a better option are missing the point.  The vignettes and fragments are the glue which hold things together.

Underlying many of the songs is a certain darkness,menace, ennui even; symptomatic perhaps of the tensions within the Beatles, and also of the social and political climate which was prevalent in 1968. Largely absent is the ebullience and levity of Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour. Rarely has an album been as apposite and illustrative of its times as The White Album.  Its tenor seemed to be in tune with the then nascent counter-culture.

The internal group dynamics are also worth discussing.  After Paul McCartney's pre-eminence through most of the 1967 recordings, John Lennon's re-asserts himself as a songwriter on this double album, and his contributions are arguably the most substantial.  The continuing emergence of George Harrison's writing and performing prowess is a also a central feature.

Whilst The Beatles is an "album" in the truest sense of the word, this does not mean that there are not highlights.  "Dear Prudence", with its pastoral and joyous air, is one of the hidden gems in the Beatles' oeuvre, and features Paul McCartney on drums, after Ringo Starr temporarily left the group.

"Martha My Dear", although lyrically less than profound, is wonderfully tuneful, and appears to have influenced the Electric Light Orchestra melodically. 

"While My Guitar Gently Weeps" was one of Harrison's most substantial efforts to date, although the spine-tingling acoustic "demo" version is superior.

The White Album is not as instantly likeable as the Beatles' previous releases, or even what was to follow, but it is essential to an understanding of the group's artistic progression, and  the musical, social and cultural landscape of 1968.