KNOCKED OUT LOADED
(Columbia Records, 1986)
MY DINNER
(Spaghetti with garlic marinara sauce, a helping of Texas Toast, and a glass of Valpolicella)
Holy "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant", Busboy! Another italian themed dinner you say! Last go round, pizza, now pasta. What's the deal? The deal is I need to surround myself with comfort foods to get through this volume of unholy, comfortless albums.
Well, have we all recovered from the agida we received from Dylan's '85 Empire Burlesque? Have you let the synth drums sink into our souls, and then purged them enough to continue on the journey? Well, by George I hope so because we're about to enter a phase in which critics basically took a Dixon-Ticonderoga eraser to Bob Dylan's legacy and declared him artistically dead. And, we STILL have '88's Down in the Groove to get through before there's some scattered sunbeams over the horizon!
Yes, friends, we are on the downward trajectory of a rollercoaster without a harness. Can you feel the pain? Give in, succumb to the blandness, the scattershot nothingness. The sky's the limit.
Yes, friends, we are on the downward trajectory of a rollercoaster without a harness. Can you feel the pain? Give in, succumb to the blandness, the scattershot nothingness. The sky's the limit.
(Ride full of Dylan fans heading into "Knocked Out Loaded" with nothing to lose)
Following Dylan's Alzheimer spasms into disco, funk, and pop synthetics that choked any life out of Empire Burlesque, we arrive at one of Dylan's most dismissed albums. Knocked Out Loaded is possibly the most critically panned... no, FORGOTTEN LP in the catalog. On his religious awakening trilogy, people at least debated over fact vs. fiction intent. On '83s Infidels, some batted lashes and prayed the troubadour was back. On Empire Burlesque, the critics and historians raised a stink about merit and the albums intentions of keeping up with the times. But here, we find a hodgepodge of bland songs, scattered about on slabs of wax for the purpose of what? Filling landfills?
(The album reached No. 53 on the Billboard charts by selling 100,000 copies directly to this landfill in Clawson, Michigan... maybe)
(The album reached No. 53 on the Billboard charts by selling 100,000 copies directly to this landfill in Clawson, Michigan... maybe)
WAYYY back in the "dinner days" (sentimental times of dinners past), I find myself in a moment of recollection over the LP; Dylan. On Dylan, I went off about how it contained 9 measly cover songs, was never repressed on CD in the digital age, and serves as a weird footnote in Dylan lore of audio nothingness. I even ate WHITE RICE, to protest how worthless it was. The thing that sets these 2 records apart? Dylan never intended Dylan to be released in the first place! For Knocked Out Loaded on the other hand, Dylan was quoted as saying in '85, "I think the next record is going to sound even better [than Emprire Burlesque]" Oh Bobby, what have you done.
For this record, Dylan essentially contributes ONLY 2 original songs (hell, the LP only has 8, so whatever). The rest are a 3 collaborative efforts, plus 3 covers. One begins to wonder the reason for its incarnation; to raise his post Live Aid profile, to promote his newly established tenure in the super group The Traveling Wilburys? The only thing I can figure is Dylan set forth on an anti-environmental frenzy to scorch the earth of such valuable materials as cardboard stock and vinyl to put more matter into the world!
(Scorched-Earth Zimmy self-pressing copies of Knocked Out Loaded)
On the recoding side of things, the entire record is a mash up of finished product, spanning 30 different recording sessions from 1984-1986. 30 sessions, 2 years, and the best they could come up with was this (hateful) 8?
Basically, the storied path of these sessions, in theory, should sound like this:
But come out more like this:
Real quick on the dinner, again, I'm going comfort over decadence. I have a plate of angel hair pasta, covered in marinara sauce (straight from the jar, baby. Just like grandma used to make it), and added some fresh roasted garlic for that "old country" stylee. I've heated up a piece of Texas Toast (in the microwave, like our forefathers did before us), and topped it off with Parmesan cheese (the kind that's only legally considered cheese in about 12 states). I've brought along a little friend of mine called Wine. It's a dark glass or Valpolicella, a three grape wine from the province of Verona, Italy (Vintage: 2017!). How much did this bottle cost me, you ask? Well, $99.99, I do say. Oh, sorry. One to many 9s!
(The number 7 doing it's own Dinner with Dylan, eating one of my 9s)
The cover of this is by and large the best thing of the record. Supposedly a recreation of an image found in an old Pulp Magazine, the record at least LOOKS like it could potentially sound cool. I mean, a woman is about to smash a jug on the head of a dude choking the living shit out of another dude. In fact, this is essentially an allegory for Dylan's creative concussion that's practically put him in a fucking coma! Based not he cover, this sound could be Dylan's punkest record yet. Unfortunately, it sounds like the way this guys smells.
For this record, Dylan essentially contributes ONLY 2 original songs (hell, the LP only has 8, so whatever). The rest are a 3 collaborative efforts, plus 3 covers. One begins to wonder the reason for its incarnation; to raise his post Live Aid profile, to promote his newly established tenure in the super group The Traveling Wilburys? The only thing I can figure is Dylan set forth on an anti-environmental frenzy to scorch the earth of such valuable materials as cardboard stock and vinyl to put more matter into the world!
On the recoding side of things, the entire record is a mash up of finished product, spanning 30 different recording sessions from 1984-1986. 30 sessions, 2 years, and the best they could come up with was this (hateful) 8?
Basically, the storied path of these sessions, in theory, should sound like this:
But come out more like this:
Real quick on the dinner, again, I'm going comfort over decadence. I have a plate of angel hair pasta, covered in marinara sauce (straight from the jar, baby. Just like grandma used to make it), and added some fresh roasted garlic for that "old country" stylee. I've heated up a piece of Texas Toast (in the microwave, like our forefathers did before us), and topped it off with Parmesan cheese (the kind that's only legally considered cheese in about 12 states). I've brought along a little friend of mine called Wine. It's a dark glass or Valpolicella, a three grape wine from the province of Verona, Italy (Vintage: 2017!). How much did this bottle cost me, you ask? Well, $99.99, I do say. Oh, sorry. One to many 9s!
(The number 7 doing it's own Dinner with Dylan, eating one of my 9s)
The cover of this is by and large the best thing of the record. Supposedly a recreation of an image found in an old Pulp Magazine, the record at least LOOKS like it could potentially sound cool. I mean, a woman is about to smash a jug on the head of a dude choking the living shit out of another dude. In fact, this is essentially an allegory for Dylan's creative concussion that's practically put him in a fucking coma! Based not he cover, this sound could be Dylan's punkest record yet. Unfortunately, it sounds like the way this guys smells.
(GG Allin miming the lyrics to Dylan during the recording of "We Are The World," circa '85)
Anyway, now that the sight of GG Allin has rid me of my appetite, lets dive into this white paint bucket of record and forge ahead. Bottoms up!
SIDE A:
You Wanna Ramble- 1 Okay, so let's start with the facts. Dylan did not write this one. It's a cover song originally by Junior Parker, an old-time blues singer, but the way it's executed it could have been written by a sled named Rosebud (yes, an inanimate fucking object with a provocative name).
The most soulless of"soul" music, Dylan sounds like he's playing in a neon soaked bar, the boys around all cracking open some ice cold Buds. Hell, this sounds like Dylan in an '80s Budweiser commercial. And this might be the corniest percussion performance (along with that barely mixed) snare sound in the mix. No, this is a travesty to drums. Why does Dylan hate drums?
(Dylan posing with blues sled legend, Rosebud)
(Exhibit A; drums that have earned more respect than the drums on Knocked Out Loaded)
They Killed Him- 2 I have dug into my spaghetti here. What can I say? It's starchy, it's saucy, it's filled to the brim with carbs. I love it! I can eat spaghetti for every meal (which would save me boatloads of money), but I'd like to keep some tiny semblance of health. Luckily, I'm helping the spaghetti go down to tonight with some fine wine. Back to the song...
There is a joke to be made in this title, but I won't. Covering his friend and contemporary, Kris Kristofferson, Dylan and the backing crooners breath the first breath into the album, even if it's a stale, dying one. Dated production is something I'm trying to stomach with each passing song... NO, each album. How did this happen for so long? This is all around bad, but is saved by the baffling MUST HEAR passage sung by children.
There is a joke to be made in this title, but I won't. Covering his friend and contemporary, Kris Kristofferson, Dylan and the backing crooners breath the first breath into the album, even if it's a stale, dying one. Dated production is something I'm trying to stomach with each passing song... NO, each album. How did this happen for so long? This is all around bad, but is saved by the baffling MUST HEAR passage sung by children.
(children singing)
Driftin' Too Far From Shore- 1 At track 3, we find ourselves with Dylan's first true composition of the record. And what prize awaits? Initially, this turd starts out sounding like The Eurythmics "Sweet Dreams" for a second before transforming into a struttin' funk pop tune. This song is a real guy's guy type of song, y'know. I mean, it's the type of song for real men, who wear white leather and say things like "what's cookin' good lookin'." Oh brother. I need mouthwash for my ears.
Speaking of mouthwash, a little bit about this wine. It's a very dry wine, a little on the bitter side. On first sip, I believe I made a face to no one in particular, and did one of those small head shake things. Overall, I've enjoyed it more with every sip, but it's not quite my cup of tea. The Texas Toast on the other hand? Oh, fuck yeah! This cheap garlic shit dowsed in spray cheese are what dream castles are made of, and I wanna live there!
(Music fan tries to forget about "Driftin' Too Far From Shore")
Speaking of mouthwash, a little bit about this wine. It's a very dry wine, a little on the bitter side. On first sip, I believe I made a face to no one in particular, and did one of those small head shake things. Overall, I've enjoyed it more with every sip, but it's not quite my cup of tea. The Texas Toast on the other hand? Oh, fuck yeah! This cheap garlic shit dowsed in spray cheese are what dream castles are made of, and I wanna live there!
(my brain on TEXAS TOAST... me, not pictured)
Precious Memories-2 I hope I never find myself on a cruise ship to Hell. If you HAVE found yourself on a cruise ship to Hell, this was playing, right? Here, Dylan unearths this traditional gospel song covered by every who's-who to every never-was under the blazing hellfire sun. On one hand, it's pitiful, full of steel drums, reggae upstroke guitar hits, and dub bass, but on the other the gang vocal, hymnal style is actually somewhat decent. Drop anchor, and thank the Good Lord for this pina colada you're about to sip.... In my case, bottom's up to more Valpolicella!!!
(The Office is a show full of precious memories and steel drums)
Maybe Someday- 2 A direct, poppy declarative tune as Zimmy starts pointing fingers. And when crooked fingered Zim starts pointing, there's no telling where he'll stop.
Revenge is best served through recollections and reflections, and I guess that's what this song is about? Dylan does so much finger pointing in this it's no wonder he finds time to play the guitar. Anyways, the "uh-huh-uh" harmony parts that pop up in the middle equal parts idiotic and genius. This track is another can of corn, but sometimes I like corn... with butter. But good lord, those God forsaken drums.
(during his 6th hour of pointing)
Revenge is best served through recollections and reflections, and I guess that's what this song is about? Dylan does so much finger pointing in this it's no wonder he finds time to play the guitar. Anyways, the "uh-huh-uh" harmony parts that pop up in the middle equal parts idiotic and genius. This track is another can of corn, but sometimes I like corn... with butter. But good lord, those God forsaken drums.
(Disrespect)
SIDE B:
Brownsville Girl- 3 As is the case with many Dinner With Dylan's, Side 2 = 2nd serving time! I've put a pile of spaghetti on the plate, poured the garlic marinara on and am about to go to town on this neverender of a song. Here goes nothin'.
If there is one "classic" for consideration from this album, fans and critics will agree it is "Brownsville Girl." I have heard this song twice prior, once when I was reading up on classic Dylan, and once when I purchased this record. The worst thing about this song is it's length. At 11 minutes, it could've shaved off about 12. WHOA! Too far, even for me. On this epic, cowritten with playwright/actor Sam Shepard, Dylan sounds like he gives some sort of a shit about the outcome. Lyrically, there is a novella of an idea to be had. It's refreshing in the scheme of the LP, but damn, it's long!
If there is one "classic" for consideration from this album, fans and critics will agree it is "Brownsville Girl." I have heard this song twice prior, once when I was reading up on classic Dylan, and once when I purchased this record. The worst thing about this song is it's length. At 11 minutes, it could've shaved off about 12. WHOA! Too far, even for me. On this epic, cowritten with playwright/actor Sam Shepard, Dylan sounds like he gives some sort of a shit about the outcome. Lyrically, there is a novella of an idea to be had. It's refreshing in the scheme of the LP, but damn, it's long!
("Brownsville Girl" is so long, they made a movie about it)
Got My Mind Made Up- 2 Tragedy has struck, my friends. In the mayhem, I miscalculated the amount of Texas Toast I had left.I've just returned from the kitchen with a dilemma, for the box is empty. Do I make regular toast with butter, or go careless the final 2 tracks as I sip with this wine? Stay tuned to find out!
Well, if you were into Dylan co-written ditties, have I got a treat for you. The penultimate track of this rather short LP was penned by Florida's greatest export since Gatorade; Tom Petty. At this point, the two played together in The Traveling Wilburys which helped to make Dylan relevant at a time when these solo LPs were popping up in record stores like flaming bags of dog shit on Welcome mats. Petty helps add some "edge" to the track," but ultimately it's flattened by weak production and that putrid drum sound.
Well, if you were into Dylan co-written ditties, have I got a treat for you. The penultimate track of this rather short LP was penned by Florida's greatest export since Gatorade; Tom Petty. At this point, the two played together in The Traveling Wilburys which helped to make Dylan relevant at a time when these solo LPs were popping up in record stores like flaming bags of dog shit on Welcome mats. Petty helps add some "edge" to the track," but ultimately it's flattened by weak production and that putrid drum sound.
(Blonde on Blind... Dylan's slogan for '86)
Under Your Spell- 1 I have decided to forgo the carbs. If it ain't Texas Toast, I don't want it!
So with that problem solved, I present to you the rest. The final song of this long trudge through a whole lot a' nothin'... This closer was co-written by Carole Bayer Sager, who has had quite an impressive career in the shadows. Sager has written songs covered by everyone and their mothers from here to Timbuktu. She also won an Academy Award for writing the theme song to the 1981 Dudley Moore vehicle, Arthur. Well, now that you got that brief history lesson, I'll leave you with the sound of my head shaking. Hear it? Well, take my word; it sounds better than this! And those drums!
(Me, or Mark E. Smith?, a few minutes ago, taking a long hard look in the mirror)
So with that problem solved, I present to you the rest. The final song of this long trudge through a whole lot a' nothin'... This closer was co-written by Carole Bayer Sager, who has had quite an impressive career in the shadows. Sager has written songs covered by everyone and their mothers from here to Timbuktu. She also won an Academy Award for writing the theme song to the 1981 Dudley Moore vehicle, Arthur. Well, now that you got that brief history lesson, I'll leave you with the sound of my head shaking. Hear it? Well, take my word; it sounds better than this! And those drums!
(final mix down of the drums in Knocked Out Loaded)
I'm so proud of us! We made it. If you read this... if you listened... there is hope in this world. We have collectively made it, dinner or not, through a really rough patch of Dylan. I know some of you may be out there fashioning spears out of twigs to come hunt me down for saying anything negative, but c'mon. Pat yourselves on the back.
Can't wait to move on to greener pasture with...
WAIT....
What's that?....
There's an LP some say is WORSE than Knocked Out Loaded? One that may be even MORE forgotten over time? An LP that includes the confounding likes of The Clash's Paul Simonon, Sex Pistols' Steve Jones, Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir of The Grateful Dead, Eric Clapton, Dire Straits' Mark Knopfler, Ronnie "Rolling Stones/The Faces" Wood, and Randy Jackson of American Idol fame... AND NO ONE CARES ABOUT IT!!!!??? Yes, I'm talking 1988's Down In the Groove!!!
Stay tuned.
Yeah, a lot of people hate the cover, but for me, it may be the best part of the album:
ReplyDeletehttps://nobodysingsdylanlikedylan.com/knocked-out-loaded
The production - why is it so terrible? I've always wondered. It sounds like it's coming from the bottom of a well..... Anyway, apart from the fact that the entire album sounds like s***, I actually sort of like the opener, and also the 2nd half of the album ("Brownsville Girl" is hilarious, I enjoy it a lot). The four songs in between are pretty unredeemable, though. Although "Maybe Someday" does have the distinction (if you want to call it that) of containing what I think is the single most embarrassing line in any song Dylan ever wrote.... the part where he idiotically chirps, "I always liked San Francisco! I was there for a party once!" (cringe)