Eighteen months had passed since the majestical magnificence of Blonde on Blonde. In those long-gone innocent days we knew nothing about a motorcycle accident, nothing about Woodstock or The Big Pink, nothing about Sarah and kids: all we had from Bob was the Sound of Silence. To put that in perspective, during that time The Beatles released Revolver and Sergeant Pepper.
Then seemingly out of nowhere came John Wesley Harding. The shock was seismic – where was the snarling and sneering delivery, the ethereal wild-mercury sound, the mystical and poetic lyrics? We played JWH on non-stop rotation and gradually convinced ourselves this was a return to roots, a rejection of pop’s wilder excesses. Never mind that Bob’s voice seemed to have changed (I had some friends who seriously thought Bob had died and that this was some imposter put in place by Columbia in order to keep the revenue stream going) and never mind that tracks like Frankie Lee and Down Along the Cove seemed childlike in comparison to Visions of Johanna and Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands. All Along the Watchtower and I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine were proper Dylan songs and that was plenty good enough.
If John Wesley Harding was, in the end, a rewarding rethink of all things Dylan, Nashville Skyline was like waking up to find yourself in another universe. The voice was now a country croon – a country croon! Bob duets with Johnny Cash (all I knew then about Johnny Cash was the cringingly awful A Boy Named Sue) – oh me and oh my, how I hated that country pie!
If Nashville Skyline was, in the end, redeemed by I Threw It All Away and Lay Lady Lay, the only possible reaction to Self Portrait was indeed “What Is This Shit?” (copyright Greil Marcus). I am not going to dwell on this travesty of a record, it is indeed irredeemably crap; for every not-quite-so-bad track like Copper Kettle there’s a laughably dreadful rendition like the travesty that is (Paul Simon’s) The Boxer.
We had to wait five long years till we got our Dylan back with Blood on the Tracks. For a few brief years all was well; Desire, even if the songs were mostly co-written (the Poet of a Generation needs a helping hand?), is a record sounding just as good today as it did back then.
The 1976 Basement Tapes were a huge disappointment – how did Robbie Robertson end up making those magical tracks sound worse than on the hissy, crackly, recorded-in-the toilet but beguilingly beautiful bootlegged versions to be found so easily ??
Roll forward to 2013 (and let’s forget, please let’s forget, virtually every new release Bob dished out during that time) when No. 10 in the Bootleg Series is announced: these collections had been stunningly brilliant, some of Dylan’s finest work – lovingly crafted, mostly stunning, always revelatory. Then Another Self Portrait: why in god’s name, why?
Let’s meander our way back and forth through the 4cd deluxe edition. A glass of wine just to ease the nerves…
Track 1 – Went to See the Gypsy – it’s a demo, sounds like Bob strumming alone in a studio (actually it’s not) but just listen – the phrasing, the voice! Fuck me, Bob’s back!!
Track 35 (last track on the 2cd release) – another demo: When I Paint My Masterpiece. A relaxed Bob sits at the piano, his voice seemingly indolent and even in places hesitant. But the phrasing, the delivery – don’t nobody tell you Dylan can’t sing!
Three cover versions of standard folk-ditties stand out – Annie’s Going to Sing Her Song and This Evening So Soon are excellent but best of all is Pretty Saro. There’s an unfinished feel to the recording but this only lends it a lovely charm.
Of course in amongst all this glory there are some obvious fillers – a third version of Alberta and Working on a Guru are nobody’s idea of essential Bob. But the surprise, the delight remains. We’ll never know why Dylan released Self Portrait or why he sent the tracks off to Nashville where Bob Johnson proceeded to stick on overdubs with seemingly no interference or even interest from his boss (although that fact like many others is open to question – some sources suggest that Dylan received regular updates). The theories abound and ,of course, Dylan himself has offered up various explanations – “Too many bad bootlegs” or “I threw it all against the wall and see what stuck” or “I’m not the person people think I am”.
So to Disc 3 – The complete Isle of Wight concert with The Band. The early bootlegs like the early reviews were disappointing. A strange sounding Bob his voice flicking back and forth between Nashville Skyline and New Morning, The Band playing in the next-door field and a crowd apparently too shocked to offer anything but polite applause.
“Could everyone please sit down and welcome on to the stage”…. thunderous applause, crisp clear sound and bang we’re straight into She Belongs to Me. Bob sounds confident, happy even. The Band have actually made it on to the same stage as him sounding exactly as the best backing group in the world should.
“Great to be here, sure is”. OK, it’s not the best Dylan concert ever just like Another Self Portrait is not the best Dylan record ever. But compared to those bootlegs and the few tracks previously officially released it’s a revelation: have I ever told you I failed to make it to the IOW concert because some bastard lorry driver took hitchhiking me to Cardiff instead? Am I still bitter and twisted, you bet I am.
To be honest I have only listened to cd4 twice – the remastered, dubs removed, original Self Portrait. It’s interesting but compared to what has gone on before hardly riveting.
So there you have it – is it worth the £162.16 currently asked for by Amazon? Of course it’s not – my one major gripe with the entire exercise is its cynical marketing by Columbia and the attempts by the likes of Greil Marcus (who contributes one of the two sets of liner notes) to persuade us we now have a new Dylan masterpiece. It’s not a masterpiece but it’s bloody, bloody good!
If £162.16 sounds just a little too much, let me know.
minibreakfast says
When I saw the title I feared it was the thread on “balalaikas in contemporary Russian rock” that KFD was threatening us with on facebook this morning. But thankfully it’s a most excellent review of Another Self Portrait! Phew!
That was a really, really great read, Lodestone. I hereby award you an A+ and a gold star, although I disagree about The Boxer, which for some reason I really like.
Mwah xx
ruff-diamond says
I fear you may have spoken too soon…
minibreakfast says
Uh oh.
Tiggerlion says
Wonderful writing, Wrongness! You should write much more often. I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. I can’t remember reading a better review of a Dylan album.
You should listen to CD4 more. It sounds much better in the context of following the first three discs. Dylan sounds blissfully happy.
Johnny Concheroo says
Nice work LoW, if I may call you that.
I have a question about Disc 3, the IOW concert.
This has been bugging me since it first appeared on the original Self Portrait double LP in 1970, but just before Dylan begins Minstrel Boy I swear you can hear an audience member yell what sounds like “Give yer arse a chance!” I’d like this confirmed (or disproved) thanks. *
Also, the track listing in the box set shows Disc 3 having 17 tracks, but the CD player reveals it actually has 18 tracks.
*Those who don’t own the box set can still join in the fun by listening the track in question on the regular Self Portrait album.
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Jings, thanks everyone – that’s me blushing that is (remind me where to send the money?)
As for your questions, JC – the 18th (ie 1st) track I believe is the Intro “everybody sit down” etc.
I’d always taken the heckle/shout as “give peace a chance” but that was on the bootlegged versions. On the new improved concert version it is impossible (at least to these ancient ears) to hear more than “give, cough, splutter, is Bob on yet”.
dai says
Just want to say:
Oh me oh my, love that Country Pie. Saw him play it live once too!
Baron Harkonnen says
Thanks your Wrongness a wonderful piece of writing which has caused me to play that special edition all the way through this morning after a sleep lacking night. No it didn’t send me back to sleep just reminded me of the great man’s genius even in 3rd gear in those golden days.
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Cheers – man, you’ve got stamina!