The Basement Tapes - Dylan, Bob (CD 1988)

There are people out there perverts and loons one and all who consider the complete recorded works of both The Band and Bob Dylan to be unlistenable mulch.

Don t believe me? Well, I could give out their phone numbers and home addresses, but I fear over the next few days their heads might be dangling from a length of coil and used as the ball in a homely game of bumble-puppy. In which case then the first one is named Richard Friedman and he is a resident of Grangemouth, which for non-UK residents is the Scottish equivalent of Kabul. All those gun-lovers and twitchy war veterans are advised to look for a bloke with a booze-blushed pug nose, a smoky cough and warts larger than Dame Shirley Bassey s corset. Then shoot on sight.

For the rest of us, a secret double album recorded by these two stellar artists after Bob Dylan released Blonde On Blonde in 1966 and The Band were working towards their eponymous masterpiece Music From Big Pink in 1968 should be a no-brainer. The Basement Tapes was circulated in bootleg circles throughout the late sixties/ early seventies before it was properly unleashed on the world in 1975, when Dylan had recaptured his muse (if he ever lost it) with Blood On The Tracks. This album is a series of classic, surreal little tunes squeezed from the most exciting and most witty and most manic and most gleefully tormented crevices of Bob Dylan s enormous psyche. It is an example of one of the world s finest musicians jamming with the world s finest backing bands to make some timeless and sensational music without the fear of anyone actually hearing it. The results are as fractious, muddled, terrific and fantastic as that sounds.

The loose nature of the music and playful spirit is evident from the onset, since it is clear all the players of the record are having an absolute ball. I ll drop their names into some of the track descriptions if you ask me nicely. The Basement Tapes sounds murky, poorly produced and sloppy at first, but upon further listens these tunes can hold their heads high among both The Band and Bob Dylan s finest work. However, since these are taken from lousy analogue tapes, the sound quality is of no SACD re-master standard so don t be disappointed if the entire band sounds wasted on cheap tequila and gin at times. Well, they probably were for some of these sessions. The record was cut in a house in New York, rented by The Band, in spells between June and October 1967.

Disc 1 Selections

Odds and Ends is a rollicking opener with some first-rate guitar work from Robbie Robertson and prime piano tinkling in the background which makes the tune far too quick for its own good. Notice how the organ vies for attention beneath the neat little chord shifts and ludicrous lyric from Bob, and how everything is squished together as though it might erupt with sublime brilliance? That s no accident.

Orange Juice Blues (Blues For Breakfast) is one of the eight tunes from The Band and composer Richard Manuel dares to use the B-word twice for the title, which is apt since this tune comes from the old school of nightclub blues, with a smoky sax from Garth Hudson and a neat little solo from Robertson again. Manuel has a voice that s a hybrid of Ike Turner and Ray Charles with a really bad cold.

Million Dollar Bash is the first example of the surreal lyricism and rare playfulness Bob Dylan demonstrates on record. Here it is served up in abundance and he drifts from hilarious, cutting lines into nonsensical rhymes with his most ebullient vocal turn in all his opus. For this sparse, largely acoustic and vocal tune, one of the finest moments has to be the lyric: The louder they come, the bigger they crack!

Lo and Behold! finds Bob in one of his grizzliest and sardonic turns, sounding over forty-three at the mere age of twenty-nine. The voice he uses here works for the ludicrous, chanted chorus which makes use an ill-fitting build-up over its galloping guitars and messed-up organ accompaniment. Backing vocals are made to sound like Johnny Cash were he ever to take some cough medicine once in his life.

Bessie Smith is the finest offering from The Band, a joint effort from Rick Danko and Robertson. The organ solos here are in their multitudes, which doesn t sound too appealing but the gentle vocal and priceless chord shifts make this tune at times almost perfect. The lyrics suggest some bizarre relationship with the so-called Empress of the Blues of the title, but despite the cheeky irreverence of the chaps, this is a stand-out highlight and those disinterested in The Band should do well to check this out.

Apple Suckling Tree has to be one of the catchiest pieces Bob Dylan has ever composed, and with just a bouncy piano melody more akin to The Kinks, he leads us into a toe-tapping rave-up replete with sensational drumming from Levon Helm and organ solos galore. The Band join with the repeated chorus which is enough to make this a classic on its own, and the room is in near hysterics by the final tap-tap of the drums. Worth the price of admission.

Disc 2 Selections

Too Much of Nothing comes from the similar grandiose style of Blonde of Blonde, with a subtle build-up that surges into an almighty chorus fit for kings and queens. Here, the street-poet observations of Dylan mount the tension before The Band bursts in for the operatic and swooningly drunk-sounding chorus. The entire tune sounds ready to explode, with the macabre piano twinkles and seriously off-scale guitar just about holding it all together. Great, though.

Tiny Montgomery is another of the tunes where Dylan sounds in a half-conscious state throughout and where the sound quality is extremely poor. The lyrics here are at their most surreal and gleefully nonsensical. It is worth listening to the grainy organ, those makeshift harmonies and squishy guitar noise for verses as bananas as: Scratch your dad and do that bird, suck that pig and bring it on home, paint that drain and nose that dough, tell them all tiny Montgomery says hello.

You Ain t Goin Nowhere was re-recorded and turned into a neat little country tune on the mandolin, but this version bounces along peevishly and is a much more vicious piece lyrically. That s either a downside or an upside, depending on your politics. Despite retaining the cutesy chorus, suggestive of the work he would perform on Nashville Skyline, this is just as terrific as the tidier version. This perhaps demonstrates just how unstable Dylan s talent was at the time, and how it was ready to explode in four directions at once.

Don t Ya Tell, Henry is the best rocker on the album with the most outstanding solo of the record from Robbie Robertson, which eclipses any of the guitar work he performed for Dylan. Well, perhaps that s a slight exaggeration. The Band are less diverse and unpredictable as Dylan on this album, of course, but this is one of their finest up tempo classic rock tunes and bags of fun.

Nothing Was Delivered is another plodding epic with a theatrical chorus and weighty vocals from The Band. This is a tune that seems to bridge the glumness of albums like John Wesley Harding with the more playful side of Dylan, which seemed to die with these sessions for a long time; possibly even well into the eighties and nineties. Love and Theft in 2001 was the first album he made where he tried to capture the eclecticism and creative eruption of these sessions.

This Wheel s On Fire remains one of Bob Dylan s lesser-known classics, a haunting tune with ghoulish organ that is illuminated upon in this album s excellent liner notes. Greil Marcus argues that these moving songs are about a man seeking salvation from the void of his own life, and possibly facing his own mortality, and certainly this tune delivers haunting mystery in spades. This is especially evident at the unforgettable chorus: There s no defying my next of kin, this wheel shall explode!

The Others

Yazoo Street Scandal, Ain t No More Cane, Ruben Remus, Katie s Been Gone and Long Distance Operator are the remaining efforts from The Band, and although these pieces are responsible for the only slumps in the set, most of them are top-notch tunes. A streamlined set would make this album absolutely perfect, but it is better to have all of the music recorded during the sessions in one place to save fans going bonkers.

Goin To Acapulco from Dylan is actually the worst piece on the album; a repetitive and overlong effort which plods along for one too many choruses and begins to grate rather than entertain. On the other hand, there are riotous and surreal treats to be devoured such as the woozy Clothes Line Saga, the shambolic Please, Mrs. Henry and the plain daft Yea! Heavy and a Bottle of Bread.

The rest of the material from Dylan is first-rate stuff, and saves the album from being too indulgent. But this is far too much of a treat for me to complain, so I should just shut my greedy mouth now. Tears of Rage is another near-the-knuckle gem and Crash On The Levee (Down In The Flood) is the sort of music Dylan still makes to this very day.

The Basement Tapes is only appropriate for the converted Dylanophile, which I seem to have become through some simple twist of fate, and is essential for those folks who want to get their paws on all his finest material. There s another huge chunk of essential Dylan to be found on this double disc set and it shall have to be purchased at some stage if you call yourself a proper fan. I don t know sell the dog or something. I sold my sister into slavery to get hold of this. It was seriously worth it.

More Bob Dylan:

New Morning (1971)
World Gone Wrong (1992)
Modern Times (2006)