Showing posts with label Bob Dylan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bob Dylan. Show all posts

Monday, July 30, 2012

Bobshead Revisited

Attempting to encapsulate Bob Dylan’s musical career is an unenviable task. Over the course of five decades, Dylan has not only revolutionized popular music (far more broadly than detractors might wish to admit) but also weathered more artistic rises and falls than any other major pop artist. In that time, his work has been sliced and diced into so many compilations that, if it wasn't for the upcoming release of a new album (called Tempest) in September, you'd swear that the collections outnumber the original albums. Some of these compilations ostensibly cover nearly the entirety of Dylan's long career, but none of them make quite as strong a case for his artistry as the 1985 box-set Biograph.

When Biograph came out over twenty-five years ago, Dylan had recently released a pair of reasonably good albums (Infidels and Empire Burlesque), but the consensus seemed to be that his career was on the downside. As a result, despite only covering work through 1981, Biograph seemed more like a career summation than a recap of the story so far. Since then, starting in earnest with 1997’s Time Out of Mind, Dylan has been on the kind of artistic roll that few pop artists manage so deep into their career. For all that great work, though, Biograph remains the release that best balances all the varied sides of Dylan as an artist.

Favoring neither the obvious nor the esoteric, this three-disc collection places cornerstones of Dylan’s songbook next to work that still divides his fans, particularly some from his late-70s “born again” period. Instead of being jarring, though, in some respects these combinations allow for a deeper appreciation Dylan’s abilities as both a writer and performer. A song like “I Believe in You” might be more overtly religious in its lyrical content than many listeners will care for, but there’s no denying the power of Dylan’s vocals or the beauty of its melody. Hearing a song like this in the same sitting as an acknowledged classic such as “Tangled Up in Blue” highlights how true he has been to himself as an artist over the years.

Another highlight of Biograph is the presence of both enjoyable alternate versions of familiar songs and some that had never before been (officially) released in any form.  These songs spotlight one of the most curious aspects of Dylan as an artist. Over the years, he’s often been one of the most erratic judges of his own work, letting excellent material sit on the shelf while lesser material is released on his albums. Even since Dylan’s return to artistic form, this trait can be seen in the Bootleg Series release Tell Tale Signs, a collection of out-takes and alternate versions from 1989 to 2006 that’s virtually the equal of any of the acclaimed albums from that period.

A case in point on Biograph is “Caribbean Wind”, a fantastic song recorded for the 1981 album Shot of Love. Very similar in tone and approach to 1983's "Jokerman" (and every bit as powerful), it was left off of Shot of Love in favor of a number of forgettable songs and only released four years later. Regardless of the path it took, though, "Caribbean Wind" sounds great on Biograph, all the songs do. Even if this set only covers an increasingly small portion of Dylan’s career, what it shows us about why his work matters makes it invaluable collection. 

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Caravan of Morrison

I’ve been trying to get to the root of my current fascination with the music of Van Morrison. My first reaction was to attribute it to one of two things. The first possibility was that as he's gotten older, Morrison's music appeals more to his contemplative side. The second is that the increased prominence of said contemplative side has led to an increase in girth (and jowl) that mirrors that of Morrison himself.

An old Borders friend of mine responded to this by noting that he’s always argued that people like the idea of Van Morrison more than the man himself. His thinking was such boring music done with so much sincerity must be meaningful and artistic. Now that strikes me as a little harsh and I don’t particularly agree with the assessment, however much the title track to Morrison’s 1991 album Hymns to the Silence wanders over the course of nine minutes, but it’s not entirely without merit.

Thinking about the Morrison songs I’ve been listening to the most, it struck me that many of them are from a 1998 compilation called The Philosopher's Stone which collects 30 songs that were either never released or released in different (and generally less enjoyable) versions. For example, the song “The Street Only Knew Your Name” has been around since the mid-70s and the version Morrison recorded then but kept in the vault until 1998 is transcendent whereas the one he released in 1983 is just pretty good. This tells me that like Bob Dylan, whose Bootleg Series collections tend to be as good or better than the albums from the same periods, Morrison is perhaps the worst judge of all of the artistic merits of his work.
 
It’s worth noting at this point that another friend pointed out hearing loss as a possible explanation. I wasn’t sure if he meant me or Morrison so, rather than pursue it further, I found “Dweller on the Threshold” on my iPod and allowed it to envelop me as my thoughts turned to…

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Biograph-ically Speaking


Attempting to encapsulate Bob Dylan’s musical career is an unenviable task. Over the course of five decades, Dylan has not only revolutionized popular music (far more broadly than detractors might wish to admit) but also weathered more artistic rises and declines than any other major pop artist. In that time, his work has been sliced and diced into numerous compilations, some of them ostensibly spanning nearly the entirety of his long career, yet none of them make quite as strong a case for his artistry as the 1985 box-set Biograph.

When Biograph came out twenty-five years ago, Dylan had recently released a pair of reasonably good albums (Infidels and Empire Burlesque), but the consensus seemed to be that his career was on the downside. As a result, despite only covering work through 1981, Biograph seemed more like a career summation than a recap of the story so far. In the years since then, starting in earnest with 1997’s Time Out of Mind, Dylan has been on the kind of artistic roll that few pop artists manage, let alone 40+ years into their career. For all that great work from the late-80s through today, though, Biograph remains the release that best balances all the varied sides of Dylan as an artist. Favoring neither the obvious nor the esoteric, this three-disc collection mixes cornerstones of Dylan’s songbook with work that still divides his fans, particularly some from his “born again” period. However, far from being jarring, these combinations allow one to better appreciate Dylan’s enduring gifts as both a writer and performer. A song like “I Believe in You” might be more overtly religious in its lyrical content than some listeners will care for, but there’s no denying the power of Dylan’s vocals or the beauty of its melody. Hearing a song like this in the same sitting as an acknowledged classic such as “Tangled Up in Blue” highlights how true he has been to himself as an artist over the years.

Another highlight of Biograph is the presence of both enjoyable alternate versions of familiar songs and some that had never before been (officially) released in any form. These songs spotlight one of the most curious aspects of Dylan as an artist. Over the years, he’s often been one of the most erratic judges of his own work, letting excellent material sit in the shelf while lesser material is released on his albums. Even since Dylan’s return to artistic prominence, this trait can be seen in the "Bootleg Series" release Tell Tale Signs, a collection of out-takes and alternate versions from 1989 to 2006 that’s virtually the equal of any of the acclaimed albums from recent years.

A case in point on Biograph is “Caribbean Wind”, a fantastic song recorded for the 1981 album Shot of Love. Very similar in tone and approach to 1983's "Jokerman" (and every bit as powerful), it was left off of Shot of Love in favor of a number of forgettable songs and only released four years later. Regardless of the path it took, though, "Caribbean Wind" sounds great on Biograph, all the songs do. Even if this set only covers half of Dylan’s career, what it shows us about why his work matters makes it invaluable collection.