Street Legal (1978)

Street Legal

(1978, Columbia Records)

MY DINNER



Pizza Pie! 

In 1978, the mighty Dylan could do no wrong. So what did he do? He started to do wrong, and whole lot of it, till it got way out of control and he woke up in the '90s like, "Huh, I'm Bob Dylan. That's not even my real name, but I'll be sure as shit if I don't start fixin' myself and jump starting this career again." This quote was most likely, never uttered by Mr. Robert Zimmerman, the son of a Abraham Zimmerman of one Duluth, MN.

After riding high off such smashing successes as his traveling concert ensemble circus, (The Rolling Thunder Revue), along with back-to-back-to-back critical stunners (Blood on the Tracks, The Basement Tapes, into Desire for the win!), Dylan snagged his foot on the creative rug and fell face first into the mantlepiece, nearly chipping his two front teeth. 1978's Street Legal, at its core is a daring album, willing to take risks, branching out into further musical landscapes for the always restless artist.

 Following in the footsteps of Desire's free-for-all rock, country jamboree assault, Dylan attempted to recreate the feel while leaning heavily on the rockin' side of things. This lead him down the path of... country funk? In addition, both interesting, and somewhat problematic, Dylan began dipping his toes into gospel territory, eventually falling knee deep in a pond of holy water (stay tuned for Dylan's religious trilogy, starting with the next entry! Praise the Lord, I can hardly wait). The results of this obsession with gospel music are fascinating to say the least.

Okay, before you go and get your knickers in a bunch, kicking up dirt in anger, let's take a quick look at the background behind Street Legal, also known as the beginning of the end. I said, DON'T GET THEM KNICKERS IN A BUNCH, please!

A couple significant things happened for our man Zim in 1977. First, his divorce with wife Sara had finally become finalized. The two went back and forth over custody of their children, Sara coming out on top. I'm no Judge, but I'm gonna go with the one who ain't painting his face afright, hanging out with Allen Ginsberg, globe hoping on speed.

"Your honor, it ain't like that no more"- Dylan in court, 1977.

Secondly, Dylan had finished a new batch of songs and hit the world stage with a new set of musicians. This group would mostly accompany him into the studio in 1977, as they hashed out what would become Street Legal in a Santa Monica basement rehearsal studio. What came forth was unlike a majority of what the public had come to expect from the ever changing Dylan.

On arrival, many critics found the songs, and styles a bit confounding. However, there's one ugly culprit that rears its ugly head throughout, dragging this LPs' name through the literal mud, that of which it actually aurally sounds like...

THE 

Yes, the production of this record is NOTORIOUS! 

"Good question?"- Street Legal producer, Don DeVito

Despite rumors circulated from Don's parents after hearing the record, and excommunicating him from the family tree, Don is not related to loveable crank Danny DeVito.  Production on this is so awful, it sounds a little something like that gross cover from that Royal Trux album. 

Royal Trux Sweet Sixteen (Drag City Records)

It's odd, since Don DeVito produced Dylan's last LP, Desire. While dated at times, Desire sounds like a record! Yet, the follow-up is akin to an ensemble cast playing inside an oil barrel, during a hail storm, inside a sewage plant while everyone dons earmuffs, including the listener! Eventually, a remastered version of the album saw release, and everyone cried a sigh of relief. However, the damage was done. Thanks Don DeVito, we forgive you.

Danny DeVito mixing Street Legal in 1977. 

It's like the old adage goes: Production is everything. That's it right? But, enough with the production. Street Legal is a fascinating mixed bag. Love it, hate it, you gotta take the ride. Sometimes it stings, other times it's glorious. Gloriously weird, bloated, sounding so far left of center than what the public was growing used to with Zimmy since that weird kid stumbled onto their radios some 14 years earlier. Always one to hurl curveballs, this is one that skips in the dirt, and a little off home plate. Still, it's full of charms and shining moments, just enough to ring the batter up. It's a wild ride, hard to pigeon hole the whole affair. Here's what the record sounds like in pictures for those who only understand internet communication...

(first, strap on your Dylan colored goggles.)

(Next, buy the ticket...)

(take the fucking ride...)

(sweat to the funk...)

(let the Lord in a little...)

(let it in a little more...)

(allow the music flow through you in dizzying waves....)

(and try to piece your life back together by Monday morning, so you can get your ass to work)

WOW! This record is flat-out crazy!

  Once again, Dylan comes to the crossroads of his fabled career, once more.

See, the cover seems to say it all. Dylan has descended from the top, looking like an agitated dad who just missed his bus home.

  
("Dammit. Dar she goes..."-Bob Dylan 1970-something)



Zimmy's looking one way, while his career seems to be fleeing in the opposite direction. Quick, turn and grab it!!! Oh well, it was a good run Zimmy. Now, let's get weird. 

 

Quickly, let's talk about my dinner. Hmmm, is it a crowd pleaser? Check! Goes well at any sleepover? Of course. See, this is authentic pizza from from the great state of New Jersey. New Jersey pizza, as everyone knows is the best pizza. Okay, don't have a fit New York. Your pizza is great too! We can share the love, can't we? We are the pizza united states. The rest of the country, I'm sorry. Look, Domino's is fine when I'm feeling terrible and need to feel worse, but what are you doin'? And DiGiorno's? Please... delivery? Don't make me laugh.

Here we have a plain pie (or pizza with cheese/cheese slice, as everyone else seems to call it). This comes from a little place in Somerville, NJ called Alfonso's. My good buddy Alex brought this over our place and turned me onto these guys! Thank you Alex for the recommendation.  Let's dig into this DELIGHT!... yes, and also listen to Street Legal.

SIDE A:

Changing of the Guards- 4 If this LP was the first indication the good times were well behind (once again), then the title says it all. What in the good Lord is this? Sometimes you shouldn't fix what ain't broken. In Dylan's case, he broke a lot in the past (i.e. Self Portrait, his neck, etc.), and always seemed to right the ship.  Here, Dylan tries to put a spin on all that over the top success he achieved in Desire. However, he fails miserably and it's incredibly fascinating and unrelentingly catchy. If you like your 70's Dylan joined by a trio of eerie soul singers and second-rate Springsteen sax, then look no further. Actually, this album is probably for you then. All the while, this thing plays out for over 7 minutes, and I can't get enough of it.

(Dylan dethroning Sonny Bono during Rock's Annual "Changing of the Guards" ceremony in 1978.)

New Pony- 3 Here Dylan opens the song singing about a female pony he named "Lucifer." Now, I'm no doctor, as I've stated before, but I'd diagnose that a terrible decision to name anything. Of course, this is a allegory for something else, like "cruddy women" messin' up ol' Dylan's mind. Wow, way to go Bob... This song is so strangely bleak yet finds room to let a little funk in. Quite similar to trying to eat gumbo with the flu while Dreamgirls sing you to nightmares, so I would imagine. Oh, and the ghost of Tito Puente's there to play the bongos for you. If you like that, you're gonna love "New Pony."

(a visual aid to eat gumbo to, if you also happen to have the flu. Being it's March, you might!)

Alright, so at this point you're probably wondering about this pizza? I know you were sweatin' a little waiting to hear about this sauce-tastic wheel of transfats. Well, this bad boy is 360 degrees of salty action, with a calculated circumference of delicious. Really, not all pizzerias in NJ are great, that's just something we tell ourselves. But, this one is pretty damn solid. 

Cheese to sauce feels right. The crust is a little soggy, which can defer a pizza into the shit zone, but this is working for me. Crisp crust is the way to go, but when the mild sog works, it works! Also, the sauce has a bit a of a sweetness in the finish, which I'm sucker for. I know a lot of purists that will throw a piece of pizza against the wall if the sauce has one hint of sweet. Me on the other hand, you'll never catch throwing pizza... unlike that guy at the Red Sox game who had it up to here!!!

(Unreleased Zapruder footage: back and to the left)

No Time To Think- 4 Okay. Wipe that funk sweat off your brow from "New Pony," because Dylan's back to basics here. At least closer to the basics of Blood on the Tracks in feel, that is. Dylan and his posse of female crooners work their way through a mid-tempo, semi-copped whack version of "Like a Rolling Stone," capped off with some bizarrely rinky-dink horn interludes. You may think the way I'm describing this stuff is negative, but oh no my perky eared readers. It's like a car wreck you can't turn away from. BUT, what if that car was filled with clowns, and upon impact a bushel of balloons came out of the trunk and put a smile on all the onlookers faces. Imagine that! What a boner of laughs. It's a mess you've gotta revel in. (Also, according to "reputable" rock criticism sources, most people hate this song, and for good reason, but NO WAY)

(animated clowns on their way to a car wreck while listening to "No Time To Think")

Baby, Stop Crying- 2 Have you ever hung out in an Elk's lodge too long, like I have? Out of nowhere, you begin to realize that ever present "room smell" is actually coming from the bathrooms, and that grilled cheese special you ordered is just two pieces of mismatched cheese on floppy white bread.  Also, there's gold tinsel hanging from the ceiling, and it's not even Christmas?  If you can relate to that, then you can skip "Baby, Stop Crying." Still, so strange, dated, you gotta love it.... maybe just a little.

You know who's not crying? Me, because I'm eating fucking pizza! Excuse my language, but all is right when you've got a nice slice. Seriously, this pizza place did a hell of job with this pie! Hats off to them. Here's an artist's rendition of the pizzeria where it was made.

(You can can see the sun is made of pizza. Or the moon perhaps, as in "when [it] hits your eye")

SIDE B:

Is Your Love In Vain?-  4 Hey teens, are you tired of "Pomp and Circumstance" playing at your high school graduations? Then write to your Congressman or woman and tell them to replace it with the incredibly awkward intro to "Is Your Love in Vain?". In fact, the whole damn piece is awkward. A song that walks on stilts in the sand, it's all over the place! Part classic Dylan composition, part horn requiem for a fallen soul, with a quick dash of gospel droning, all cooking under multi-colored stage lights. Vocally, though, Dylan sounds pretty sinister, and the song is such a sappy anthem I can't help but raise a flag for this side opener. The song has received a lot of flack for Dylan for it's sexist overtones. Zimmy, take a cold shower and let a little love in your heart. You need to be SAVED!

Speaking of being saved, here's a great story about a little girl who saved her mother's life by slapping her with a piece of pizza.

(Inspiration is everywhere... a real hero)

Señor (Tales of Yankee Power)- 1 With a song title like this, how could anything go wrong? Jesus! This track is a 5 minute plus, Spanish-tinged sleeping pill. It's no wonder Dylan tried to find Jesus after this record, because this is crummy trudging narrative-driven cow flop is enough to drive any self-respecting artist toward the altar of forgiveness.  Jesus, is that you?  Oh no, it's just....

(Oscar Gamble!. He was a señor who had average power, but did have one of the coolest baseball card's ever... he did retire with 200 career home runs though)

True Love Tends To Forget- 2 True love is something Dylan seems to have a terrible grasp on at this point in his life. If you like white soul driven grooves, delivered poorly at that, have you found your new anthem! Dylan actually unleashes some passionate vocals on this one! Raw at times! However, the rickety old man soloing parts are barf worthy to boot. Easy to forget this one, I do say.  Hardy har har. 

We Better Talk This Over- 3 Dylan goes part delta, part pop, part gospel, and all whackadasical with this catchy little piece. For a change, the backup singers give a tasteful performance as the song unravels along at a southernly charming steady pace, rather than taking it off the rails on the Cocaine Coaster. One can tap a foot to this following some real head scratching snoozers on Side B. 

In other news, "We Better Talk This Over" is what I expect my wife to say when she finds out I'm six pieces into this pizza. That mean's there's only 2 left. Embarrassed, am I? Not at all. Glutenous? You bet!

(Me, right now.)

Like a gentelmen, I'm going to leave these last two pieces in the box. Perhaps my wife will want them later. More likely, the cats will get to them first. I will audibly curse and say, "What's wrong with you cats?" even though we've been doing this same careless human/hungry feline routine for 9 years.

Where Were You Tonight (Journey Through the Dark Heat)- 4 Earlier in the meal, I referred to "No Time to Think" as a "Like a Rolling Stone," rip, but this... This redefines self-plagorism. I'm no lawyer, but I'm sure I could get permed-out, sunglasses sporting, fresh-faced, '60s Dylan a nice cut of Street Legal money from the choruses alone. While it's impossible for any of this to happen, mainly because I've never been to law school, and you can't give someone's old self future profits, I'll think of other life goals to accomplish (like one day owning a ride-on lawnmower). Still, hang on to this uplifting, agonizing, fist-raising closer. It's as lame as a drunk, one-legged drunk goat trying to walk on water, but wholly digestible nonetheless. Whoa! What a rush.

(the day Bob Dylan met Bob Dylan and sued himself over this song)

Well folks... There you have it. A brief trip down pizza lane in the Garden State. I don't want to bore you with tons of pizza history about New Jersey, or continue to be so braggadocios about the simplest fucking meal combo in the world other than shelled eggs in boiled water.  And in other news, we've now left Street Legal behind us. 

Join me next time as Dylan begins to lose himself in the Lord. Yes, it's time to kick start the RERBORN period. There ain't gonna be no more blood on these tracks, because it's Slow Train Coming. 

(Y'all ready for this?)

Desire (1976)

Desire

(1976, Columbia Records)

MY DINNER

(the momentarily famous TTLA sandwich from Whole Foods Market. A sandwich made famous by social media)

Desire? What does it mean to you? I don't know, but anyway you slice it, what a terrible name for a record! Okay, maybe George Clinton's Hey Man, Smell My Finger might be way worse. But this LP is considered by many to be one of Dylan's best studio efforts (after the other 7 great ones, or whatever). I don't know, there's just something so lifeless about standing around, talking music when one Dylanhead says to another "What's your favorite Dylan album?," and then the other Dylanhead leans close and whispers in the others ear "DESIRE....." I'm sure this has happened once or twice, at least. Maybe my second least favorite tittle after Planet Waves. Still trying to crack that code.

Anyway, welcome to Desire, Dylan's 17th studio album, and last of widespread critical and fan praise for the next 15-20 years. Basically, after Desire, Dylan's comeback as critical darling sank deeper in deeper as he became nearly forgotten in the '80s and had to slowly claw his way back in the '90s. So let's bid our Dylan farewell (and say a prayer for me as I will soon begin to tackle nearly a dozen LPs few care about.... Oh it burns... with Desire.....)

So, after the complete adulation of Blood on the Tracks, and the celebrated release of The Basement Tapes,  Dylan reportedly farted around for a few months, only having written 1 song by summer of 1975. To other musicians, this is sometimes called normal. To Dylan, disturbing. Around this time, he met Jacques Levy (playwright, director, songwriter) through Roger McGuinn of The Byrds in NYC. Together, the two began working on the remainder of the songs that would become Desire. The LP also features prominent violin work from Scarlet Rivera, someone Dylan reportedly found walking down the street, or sitting in her car, depending on what lore you wanna go with. Rounding out the record, the vocals of legend Emmylou Harris are all over this! At the time, the relatively unknown Harris was seemingly picked at random to be on the record when Dylan requested a "female" vocalist from Columbia Records. So there you have it. I call that DESIRE in a nutshell.

Some call this Desire in a Nutshell

One of the grandest things to come from Dylan's collaboration with Jacques Levy; the birth of the Rolling Thunder Revue. The RTR was a 2 part tour that bookended the release of Desire. The traveling "caravan" of musician roadshow directed by Levy traveled far and wide around North America, giving us famous pictures like this....

And this.....  (photos you can find in a college dorm, looking like Dylan fell face first into cocaine)

("you kids like clowns?"- Bob Dylan to his frightened children circa '76)

Finally, the LP cover? The photo was reportedly snapped at Plymouth Rock in Massachusetts. Who could tell? It's just Dylan standing in front of a tree, smiling at.... his Desires? Who knows. No mention of the Plymouth Rock imagery, pilgrims. How 'bout a 12 minute song about the first Thanksgiving as told by Zimmy. Nope. A song about ship traveling across the ocean and the centuries of US horrors that have unfolded. Nope, nothing. Just desires? Desire. Repeat after me... "Desire. Desire...... desire"

Now real quick on my dinner of desires. I have purchased myself the famous-for-the-moment TTLA sandwich from Whole Foods. This sandwich is like the Elvis of sandwiches, literally the flavor of the month. It was turned into a national craze by actress and blogger Tabitha Brown. 

(Tabitha Brown eating the sandwich in question)

Since her review, this sandwich has blown up, flames and all. There's a lot of hype around it, and she calls the sandwich "life changing." We'll see... The sandwich contains vegan tempeh bacon, garlic aioli, lettuce, tomato, and avocado. I would also like to add, that I made this sandwich at work, and then purchased it for $8.99. It also comes on a ciabatta roll, different from the panini style in the famed video. But that won't stop me from tackling this trendy sandwich of desires.  NOW, let's dig in!

SIDE A:

Hurricane- 5 Following the last 2 songs on Blood on the Tracks ("Shelter From the Storm," "Buckets of Rain"), one would not be remiss to think Dylan had gone into full blown meteorologist mode for good, since he is a man of invention. However, this is not the case. The song is less about weather allusions and 100% about Rubin "Hurricane" Carter ("Reuben" is also the name of a popular, delicious sandwich). You might remember him from Denzel Washington's depiction of said professional boxer who was thrown into prison for a murder of which he was later acquitted. Dylan takes a scathing shot at the Police state, racism, and the (in)justice system. Boom! Also, Dylan gets about as vulgar as he's ever gotten. Tipper Gore must have shat a nickel when she heard this one as Zimmy drops words like "ass" and "shit." Whoa!!!  Also, the song itself is a funky, hard edged hoedown that propels forward for 8 minutes and doesn't let up. A real fiddle driven punk-esque tune, years before Zimmy gave himself a mohawk outside of CBGB's at that Richard Hell show (I think)

(This is a goalie of the Hurricanes, waving a disavowing stick at American medical insurance, something Dylan probably has talked about)

Isis- 5 Well, this is a touchy subject these days. Now, this blog will probably be on some sort of watch list. But hey, I'll take all the readers I can get, even you The Ghost of J. Edgar Hoover. Anyway, "Isis" is another super long, never ending cut. Fortunately, like "Hurricane," it's pretty damn cool. A slow jam full of dragging fiddles, piano pounding, and another empowered performance by Dylan. This song tells the overlong tale of a man lost in Egypt coming upon an empty tomb with his partner... Oh who cares. If you want a real story, read a book. In this case, just smoke a little wacky weed and take the trip with a man and his lost love, a girl named "Isis."

(Members of Isis being dicks, unrelated to the narrative of what our faithful narrator, Robert Zimmerman speaks of. These guys are terrible.)

Enough about Isis, and more about this TTLA sandwich. First off, is it life changing? Hmmm, let's see. Same amount of money still in my back account. I don't see any newborn children suddenly in my apartment. My limbs are still in tact, and a racist, reality television star is STILL our president. Nope, my life is about the same. However, it is DELICIOUS!  Let's continue on. More to come!

Mozambiqu- 4 This ones a real WHALE of a song, virtually unpronounceable to the average grandmother who couldn't find it on a map. 9 minutes, baby! Strap in.  Apparently, cowriter Jacques Levy, wanted to see how many words he and Dylan could rhyme with the title, a South African country know best know for being a Bob Dylan song (not really). What they come up with in the end sounds kind of like if Jimmy Buffett started a not-half bad country jamboree band and invited Emmylou Harris to sing backups. Annoyingly catchy!

(like the song, here's a whale, one that sadly washed up on the shores of Mozambique) 

Back to the sandwich, which is half consumed and being eaten with great restraint. Now, anything with garlic aioli and avocado is going to be delicious. Really, if that's all that came on it, you've already got a winner. The garlic aioli alone is what DESIRES are made of. The smoky tempeh bacon is a vegan delight, adding a nice smoked finish to every bready bite. Wish the tomatoes were a bit more ripe, but such is the case when eating tomatoes in February. I would recommend toasting this. However, going at it cold is still delightful!

One More Cup of Coffee- 4 Coffee is one of the greatest gifts the God has ever given us (but don't tell 1978 Dylan about no Gods, cause he's just a few short moves from going full-on religious zealot with a guitar). It's also a known fact, a fresh-faced boy known as Zimm-kid used to perform at coffee houses in a small town known as New York City, Manhattan. This is a 3 and half, middle-eastern meets spaghetti western tune, and it's the way to GO! Emmylou Harris adds some cool off-time vocal interludes, while you sit feeling like Rick Blaine waiting for a plane in Casablanca. 

SIDE B:

Oh, Sister- 5 Full disclosure. I have 1 brother, 0 sisters. So, according to Ancestory.com, this song is as close to a sister as I get. Here, Emmylou and Dylan mirror each other vocally as the fiddle screeches, the drums slow roll around, and the rest of the lot subtly move this impacting piece along. Basically, this song seems to have laid the template for a good amount of Will Oldham's work in the future. If you do not know Will Oldham's work, that ranks you in the majority of people standing in line at an Arby's.

Speaking of Arby's, they sell sandwiches, but they don't sell anything that compares to this TTLA sandwich. You may have the meats, but do you have the vegan meats? No, because you're "restaruant" chain is bullshit.

(another boner by Arby's)

Joey- 2 Also the name for a baby kangaroo, this song is actually not about that. Also, "Joey" is 4 letters, but this song is 11 minutes long. A staggering ratio! Brimming with confidence over Side A's opener, Dylan the Defendant tackles the story of mobster Joey Gallo who was gunned down in New York's Little Italy in '72. Well, unlike "Hurricane," this one seemed to find little sympathy with the general folk as Joey Gallo seems to have left his mark as somewhat of a historical scum bucket, eating lead due to his shitty dealings in the mob underworld. The song is one never-ending fiddle fuck fest; a bellowed ballad that lasts a year and day. If you zone out, it's bearable. This go-round, I find myself staring aimlessly at the walls, remembering why I usually skip right past "Joey."

(it is often believed the NY crime family syndicate was extinguished by one Richard Tracy, circa December '74, aka the release of The Godfather II). 

Romance In Durango- 2 So, being that "Joey" is 11 minutes long, that means my TTLA sandwich is about 10 min and 45 seconds gone. It was fun while it lasted. I DO recommend it, and I'm not being paid to say that. Grab one of these suckers, if your local Whole Foods participates in the craze. Now, back to the music....

Eww, if this ain't some doggone skin crawlin' title if I've ever heard one. Dylan, fresh off a Bowery burrito, shows off his bi-ligual chops, chops up tomatoes for a fresh salsa, and proudly sports his chops of mutton (see LP cover for reference). Overall, I could not care less about Dylan doing traditional Mexican themed music, even if he does have the wherewithal to name drop "tequila" mid song. While I like tequila in the right moment, I do not care for "Romance In Durango," a song which speaks of.... desires!

(Pictured: 2001 Dodge Durango; a possible place where one can experience romance, albeit in the roomy back-seating)

Black Diamond Bay- 5 Things finally pick back up with the long, but killer song about an island blowing up via volcano eruption. Now, this is some Hollywood action you can sink your teeth into, once you're done with you TTLA sandwich! Apart from the handsome (if not goat-like) leading man, Zimmy Zimmerman killing it behind the mic, this song is a total hook filled, multi-layered narrative opus that propels its barbs and sticks to your skin like molten-lava. I'm not sure if lava has barbs though. Actually, molten-lava would burn through your skin at a tremendous rate, and is best when avoided by humans.

(Volcanologists speculate this song caused the filming of Dante's Peak, an unforgettable Bond film)

Sara- 3 You might remember Sara as the thankless leading lady Dylan spent his entire album shitting on and sulking all over with Blood on the Tracks. She was also his one time wife, including being present in the studio of the time of recording; poor Sara, sitting bedside to her wordsmith husband, their lives coming undone and going their separate ways. Well, who am I to say all this stuff?  I ain't no marriage counselor. Actually, where Blood on the Tracks alluded to "Sara" and "marriage," this track basically says "hey world, I think I'm gettin' divorced!" The next year, it would become so. But here, Dylan weeps through 5 personal minutes of separating from his wife, the one he claims he'll never regret loving.....  unfortunately, Dylan had other deeeeessssiiiiiiirrrrres.

(Sara and Dylan, seconds after finding out he was a divorced man... with DESIRES)

So, who's up for something a little more light hearted?.... Oh, on that note, stay tuned at "Dinner with Dylan" for the rest of Robert Zimmerman's mostly underwhelming career! 

For my next dinner, I shall digest Dylan's 1978 Street Legal... where the ugliness begins to rear its head, forcing Dylan into a near 15-20 year creative coma!!!

"Say what?"- Bob Dylan, caught off guard for the next two decades.

The Basement Tapes (1975)

The Basement Tapes

(1975, Columbia Records)

MY DINNER

(Vegetarian Jambalaya with Tofurky sausage)

Up until 1975, there were two things weird men in hats couldn't stop looking for. One is the Arc of the Covenant...

"You know it..." I. Jones

The other; Bob Dylan's LOST recordings he made with his backing band, The Hawks, back in 1967 following his "infamous" motorcycle accident.

"Truth bro..." Big Dylan fan with weird hat. 

This once long lost Holy Grail we now know as The Basement Tapes.

But wait, first off, what's all this with Dylan's backing band known as The Hawks?

(Reported photo from the first day of recording)

Well, your moms and pops would know this fabled band The Hawks as... uhhh, The Band. Some know them as those coked up dudes from the movie The Last Waltz. Yes, the soon to be multi-platinum selling artists started life backing up Bob Dylan in the basement... makin' tapes. Initially, Dylan joined forces with mostly Canadian The Hawks who worked as his backing band during his "electric" shows. These shows are often remembered for fans throwing up their souls onto their laps, while hurling garbage at Bob Dylan. Now-a-days, these are known as "the good years!" 

Following Dylan's fabled motorcycle accident, he retreated into a quiet life, putting the pieces (of his spine) back together. It was here, he invited members of The Hawks to woodshed some stuff in the basement of the Big Pink.

(The Big Pink, where the boys recorded this classic piece of smut)

On The Basement Tapes, Dylan was able to flex his wings, shed his French poet-on-speed-and-downers persona, and take in lungfuls of fresh country air. Through reported intense, therapeutic, and cathartic recording sessions, a double disc classic was born. Following the sessions, the often sought out, but rarely heard tapes stayed underground. Meanwhile, Dylan went about as a partial recluse, and occasional recording artist. The Hawks eventually morphed into The Band, making millions and working with Dylan on 1974's poorly named, ho-hum Planet Waves LP.

(For reference, this is The Band; five guys who enjoy sitting down)

Following the smashing success of Dylan's Blood on the Tracks, he allowed Columbia to release these much talked about tapes to the public, resulting in mutual aneurisms amongst rock critics. Dylanites were losing their skulls like Dylan on a wobbly motorcycle at a glimpse into the long lost past. Officially released in 1975, Dylan's 16th LP recorded between Blonde on Blonde and John Wesley Harding, essentially fills the gap between Blood on the Tracks and the rest of his fucking career.  

There's enough mythology and praise around this album to feed a nation of starving children, if mythology had nutritional value, so whatever I have to cry about on this entry is without merit. It's legacy is huge, even if my hunger for it isn't as great as everyone else.  Speaking of hunger, let's double down on this double LP.

Real quick on the topper of a meal that I'll be devouring tonight. Since this LPs a doubler and about 10 days long, I prepared myself a heaping, seemingly bottomless pot of Vegetarian Jambalaya. This low-rent Jambalaya concussion is a ricey dream stirred in with mass amounts of garlic, tender onions, crisp celery, with touches of crushed tomatoes, red bell pepper, hot sauce, and Tofurky Italian Sausage. Why Tofurky you ask? 'Cause I'm a rootin'-tootin' vegetarian you see. So, without any further ado, let's carb up with The Basement Tapes.

SIDE A:

Odds and Ends- 4 Bob Dylan is back... from 1967! In some ways, this is the prequel to Back to the Future. If you look closely, you can see a folded LP copy of this record in the back of Michael J. Fox's jeans during the malted shake scene. Anyway, the scratchier, thin production sets the tone for most of the record. Some call this the first lo-fi album, but I guess those people haven't heard a single blues 78? Here, Dylan and The Band do a honky tonk-like cry for feeling like used trash. If The Velvet Underground or Bowie did a song like this, it'd be cool for the young crowd. Here it's cool for the dads. Either way, I'm a sucker for this shit. Good stuff.

(Some say this Dylan-head loved the song so much, he posed in front of a picture of the title)

Orange Juice Blues (Blues For Breakfast)- 1  Ugghh, track 2 and already it's an ALL inclusive The Band tune, sung by bassist Richard Danko. See, one major drawback of this LP, there are flat out songs where Dylan's off takin' care of business on the toilet, and The Band essentially delivers an early demo of theirs (sometimes studio jams). Ultimately, I don't care about this, but if you're a Band-Aid (new name for fanatics of The Band), maybe this is heaven for y'all? If you like orange juice, The Band, and lame titles this one is like striking gold. Music from a white bluesy dumpster. To be fair, I like some of the The Band's music, outside of these solo outings on this record. They're just everywhere on this LP, so strap in.

Alright, time to dissect the rice dish I made. Man, I love rice on here. Guess, I love to choke on starch. This isn't too spicy, just the right amount. Thankfully, I knew when to take the throttle on dribbling on that hot sauce. Mmmmm.... and when it comes to garlic, gimme more!  If you're coming over for a pot-luck, or a million dollar bash, remind me to make this for y'all.

Million Dollar Bash- 4 What do you know, a song called "Million Dollar Bash," right after I referenced it. The luck of that. This is a real throwback here. Part 50's nostalgia, part laid-back swing rock, with a muddy scoop of crooning hillbilly sensibilities. Infectiously hypnotic, despite its cheesy choruses. Dylan sounds like a half rejuvenated man who's gotten his brains knocked back into semi-normie mode (sans lyrics about the "mashed potatoes") following that motorcycle accident.

(Here is Bob Dylan on a $10 bill as imagined by artist Jeremy Hara. If you had 100,000 Dylan bucks, you'd have 1,000,000 Dylan Dollars.... it's simple Dylan math)

Yazoo Street Scandal- 1 DYLAN DOES NOT APPEAR ON THIS TRACK.....Again... I'll get used to it with this collection. Real sleazy greasy vocal wise on here. This is the kind of song that makes you want to take a shower. Man, The Band is (mostly) a real bunch of crud. Ugh, quite funky in a bad way. This is one of the sleaziest sounding organ parts ever. uggh....

This Jambalaya went down quick during this one. Boy, I hate this song so much the only thing to do through it is hate-eat. Shoveling that shit in my mouth.... HOT damn, this song for aiding in my weight gain.

Goin' to Acapulco- 4 Dylan's back, and with it so is my appetite. No longer will I hate-shovel Jambalaya down my throat because of The Band. They don't control my eating habits!

 This song seems to be about traveling to Mexico for a real downer of a time goin' at it between the sheets with a woman of the night, because you hate yourself and what else is there in life (the song interpretation, not my life's credo)?  So that's kind of cool, I guess, if you wanna stay trapped in the mind of a lost soul suck in Mexico? This track's a slow drawl of hangover depression. Part Blonde on Blonde blues-balladry, part "dude hating himself with a hangover and empty pockets after a wild night."  

Katie's Been Gone- 3 A real roots-rocker recorded as The Band without Dylan, so there some of that The Band ooogliness going on in here. Icky, but not as yucky as some of their other white boogie jams. This song is, at the very least enjoyable, and I can tape a toe to it. Will it stick in my memory bank? Hell No. But can I hate on it? Of course I can, but I won't.  As someone once said, "Hatred is the Devil's Phillips-Head screwdriver and if we give in, we're all screwed." The person who said that was me, just now.

(Actress Kate Hudson is a "Katie that's been gone," every time she leaves one location and moves on to another... for reference only)

Lo and behold my followers of the home-made Jambalaya.... I have finished my first plate, eating at a reasonable pace. Excuse my while I refill this plate of Cajun glory by way of NJ. 

SIDE B:

Lo and Behold!- 3 Dylan's back for side B. Okay, really for every second song I feel like I proclaim "Dylan's back." Dammit Zimmy, you're being too casual with your keys to the kingdom. The Band scuffles about with a fast paced little jive in the back with Dylan vocals up front. The song is a classic little basement tape gem. The chorus is awkward, but the whole thing is annoyingly catchy.  A mix of lo-fi dirty country with gospel hooks. Alright, I'll take it. 

Bessie Smith- 3  Oh man, more tracks from The Band, when all we wanna here is what went on in that BASEMENT. This is a studio track tacked on by Columbia Records. Fortunately, it's not half bad. If you like The Band, godblessya, one and all. If you don't, you might be able to hear it and be like, "Oh, OK? It's like yeah... What's on Netflix, bro."

A fan of The Band watching The Last Waltz on Netflix. 

Clothes Line Saga- 4  According to the history of music, and others who write about it, this is a riff on Bobbie Gentry's '67 hit "Ode to Billie Joe." Whatever the case, this is a narrative Dylan weaves in a monochromatic tone as The Band adds some bluesy bloops and streamlined strums behind our Zimmyteller. Mostly about wet clothes hanging on a clothes line while the neighbors inquire about them, which is pretty goddamn cool.

Bob Dylan, circa 1918.

Apple Suckling Tree- 4 A real off-the-cuff traditional sounding romp as The Band and Dylan seem to be making this up almost on the spot. Some would call that improvisation. Others, jammin'.  A real sing-song bout of country nonsense. But what nonsense it is! Good clean fun that shines through brightly. Brilliant? No, not at all. But the more songs recorded like this in the world, the better. Hit record and commit everything to tape.

Alright faithful dinner followers... I gotta slow down with the rice. Seems the Gerd is catching up to me. For those who don't know what Gerd is, it feels a little something like this...

(actual photo my wife took of me right now? we my never know)

Gerd is the devil's play thing. For all rice eaters like myself, who can't stop indulging, this is a straight up bad time to be alive during any meal. Not only does your chest feel like it's being ripped apart with fire and swallowed sledgehammers, it prevents you from eating more rice at a rapid rate. Now that's a sin.

I shall plow through.... and we will ramble on with the Jambalaya! 

Please, Mrs. Henry- 3 Dylan, vocally, comes off like he's walked out of an all-night Highway 61 Revisited session here. Tired and drunk and out for the sex, Dylan sounds like he's speaking through his COOOOL oversized '60s shades again. Well, after all, this was still the '60s. Thankfully during this sexist song about wanting to "pump a few," Dylan cracks a couple laughs. Man, being up in Woodstock must've really got this guy's testies in a vice. Hopefully, one day this man will find Jesus...

"Soon and very soon, I am going to see the King"- a mighty Saved Dylan from the Future.

Tears of Rage- 5 Perhaps the most famous song from The Basement Tapes, "Tears of Rage," reflects upon the failing state of the nation in 1967, back when this was recorded. Fortunately, by 1975 these guys were WAY more into the cocaine than the senseless war in Veitnam. But to take a step back and examine this in the dim light of the basement, this is a wonderfully crafted pleading ballad of poetic heartbreak. Awesome. Sheer potency, and one of the reason these tapes deserved to be released.

SIDE C:
Too Much of Nothing- 5 So here we are moving ever so slowly through this basement skullduggery. Luckily, the opener of Side C (3?) is a fitting mix of normie rock and weirdo tendencies. The whole thing has an eerie feel, vocals and instruments reverberating. Then the buildup to the chorus sounds like a psychedelic circus. And then, the chorus is a falsetto out-of-left-field performance, sounding as if a testicle or two were accidentally snipped. Dylan and The Band were really gellin' on this one, testicles or not.

Yea! Heavy and a Bottle of Bread- 4 Why can't Dylan and The Band ever seem to sing in unison? Must be drunk, or perhaps it's just "rustic." For whatever reason, this work perfectly 'cause this song is a freakshow mess. The lyrics are an incredibly stupid, somewhat amusing selection of weirdo sentences. The '60s man, am I right? I don't know if I'm right, but there certainly was a decade referred to as the '60s.  Anyways, this is like a wilder companion piece to "Too Much of Nothing."

Well, fellow people of the Fire of Chest community we call Gerd suffers, the Jambalaya has one. Despite being mighty full, I'm also packing this eating contest in due to chest pains.  Feels a little something like this...

So to that I say, let's just review the rest of this tome. While I'm at reviewing, can I say I'll give my made-from-scratch Jambalaya a solid 4.5 outta 5 stars. I ain't modest. 

Ain't No More Cane- 2 The Band "steals" this Dylan composition and Columiba Records told ol' Plumber Zimmerman to head back to the basement and start plumbing them pipes some more. Here, The Band plays an old traditional work song and it ain't all bad. The harmonies are strong and the accordion's a slick choice, but it still kind of stinks.

Crash on the Levee (Down In the Flood)- 3 Song's mainly constructed of a blaring organ and walking bass. A skeletal accostic strum ties it together in the back, as Dylan gets all old-time blues preachy about the flood coming through. Unfortunately it's non-too-memorable. Nobody likes a flood, but people like to sing about it, and all possible meaningful things that could lie underneath....

Other meaningful Floods include:

The Great Mississippi River Flood of 1927

Famed St. Louis Cardinal's Center Fielder Curt Flood

A really good record named Flood.

A Millionaire 

Ruben Remus- 2 What is this? The Band doing kid's music? Okay, I'll break it down. The music isn't horrid. The recording has a terribly murky quality to it that somehow redeems it, but it's still a pile of shucked clams. MMMM, one of these diners I'm gonna make myself a Ruben.  Now we're talkin'.

Tiny Montgomery- 4 The song follows that "Highway 61 Revisited" formula, also known as a hackneyed blues formula. On that classic song, Dylan sounded like he was flying high on Grade A hashish. Here, Dr. Zimmerman sounds as if he chugged some Reubentusen and told The Band, "Gents, let's fffffffuuuuucccckkkkkkin'..... boogie!"


SIDE D
You Ain't Going Nowhere- 5 One of the greatest rock/folk/blues/country highbryd out there. Okay, the BETTER version was released by The Byrds back on their Sweethearts of the Rodeo LP, or so I say. But this version? Still, HOT DAMN! More off-the-cuff with shabbier vocal melodies and a tinge of wafting pot smoke still in the air, seeping through the floorboards into the second floor of the Big Pink.

Don't Ya Tell Henry- 1 Ugggghhh, this is the complete opposite of the bliss of "You Ain't Going Nowhere." An exclusive The Band track that's about as insufferable as any George Thurogood b-side, or any side, for that matter. Apparently, this song was actually written by Dylan, and The Band deliver it in rockin' fashion. Pass.

Nothing Was Delivered- 5 Speaking of The Byrds... They also recorded an incredible version of this eerie blues tune for Sweethearts of the Rodeo too. Man, those Byrds really knew how to cover a killer tune... umm, mostly by Dylan. A true gem from the basement.

The Byrds really liked Bob Dylan... and it made them lots of money. Facts. 

Open the Door, Homer- 4 An song apparently written with novelist, and Dylan friend, Richare Fariña in mind, as he'd recently passed away. Dylan and The Band sing "Open the door, Richard," every time instead of "homer," because they don't understand how lyrics and titles work. Oddly catchy, somewhat sad, longing, reflective, celebratory. All these adjectives, and it's not even a perfect song. BUT, it's a notable basement cut.

Long Distance Operator- 1 The Band lay down some sleazy rainy day sex voodoo here. That sick bass could charm a snake out of a forty year slumber in a basket of used gym socks. Nope. Almost worse than gettin' the Gerd.

This Wheel's on Fire- 5 A real overblown, forlorn, doomride of a closer. From the production, to the rising choruses, to the skittish rythms... Goddamn, not to mention the lyrics, which I don't like to mention, because I don't care what most people are singing about.... Anyway, let me catch my breath. I caught it and it's mine, and you can't have it. Epic closer to a unbalanced, undisputed, once unreleased classic by Bob Dylan and his good friends... The Band.


WELL.... there you have it folks... Another main meal down with Bob Dylan and The Band.  Join me next time as I tackle one of the last well received Dylan records (1976's Desire) before he began his multi-decade long decent into sheer madness, poor record sales, and terrible production choices.

Until next time, what'd ya say Bobby (with a Robbie on your shoulder)....

("Get in the Van....."- Bob Dylan, cracking puns to The Belfast Cowboy)