The Complete 'Tell Tale Signs' notes
Spend the afternoon reading the full un-edited version of the notes Peter wrote for Jeff Rosen in June 2008. They've not been seen in this extended version before.
“In the words of the immortal Robert Johnson, the stuff we got will bust your brains out.”
Hey Peter
jeff rosen here. am preparing another bootleg series. was wondering
if you might like to contribute to the liner notes. quick turnaround
if so.
whatya think?
jeff
It was the second year of what would become known as the Never Ending Tour, a tour where anything could and did happen, and a tour that would eventually redefine Bob Dylan’s entire career as a musician. The previous tours of the past few years had been with either the Grateful Dead and Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. Both tours had their moments, but I left all those shows feeling something was missing, that Dylan needed his own band. The show with the Dead in Philly was to say the least controversial, and a lot of people were whining they’d never see him again. Back then, there were still disc-jockeys and radio stations that cared about music and their comments ranged from sort of sympathetic to what was that!?
For me, he played two songs I never thought I’d see, “The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest,” and even more amazingly, “John Brown,” an anti-war song that appeared on an album I had, called Broadside Volume 1, which was a sampler of the topical songwriters of Greenwich Village in the early ’60s. On that album Dylan appeared under the pseudonym Blind Boy Grunt, which turn out to the first of many. “John Brown” was based on the traditional country song, “Reuben’s Train,” that had a definitive guitar lick to it, and Jerry Garcia, no stranger to traditional music used that lick in the arrangement. The show had two other surprises, “Chimes of Freedom” and “Queen Jane Approximately,” and even though the latter song kind of collapsed in the middle, I didn’t care. It happened to be my birthday, I was seeing Bob Dylan and saw songs I never thought I’d see. It was a hint of things to come.
When Dylan went on tour the following summer, it was with a stripped down band, and they were to say the least rocking. In those days there was no Internet to give you instant set lists each night. If you wanted to know what was going on a tour, you had to go to the library and find a newspaper from another town that hopefully reviewed the show. So when I saw my first Never Ending Tour show at the Garden State Arts Center, in Holmdel, New Jersey, and Dylan opened with Subterranean Homesick Blues, another song I never expected to see, my mind was somewhat blown and blown even further when during the short acoustic set, he pulled out Woody Guthrie’s, “Trail of the Buffalo.” That fall Dylan opened up his tour with two nights at the Tower Theater just outside Philly. I was beyond belief when in the middle of the show he launched into “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream,” and again two songs later, when he inserted a new verse about Vietnam into “With God On Our Side,” a verse that would appear a few months later on a Neville Brothers album, Yellow Moon, that was produced by Daniel Lanois.
The next morning, I was invited to watch a recording session with Dylan’s bass player at the time, Kenny Aaronson. When I arrived at the studio, my friend who was producing the session cautioned me, saying Bob was kind of mad at the band last night, so be cool. Finally at the end of the session when everyone was relaxed, I got up the nerve ask Aaronson, “Did you know Bob was gonna do 115th Dream last night?” “He kind of fooled around with it at sound check was the response.”
The following summer, the traditional songs were replaced by covers of other artists such as Gordon Lightfoot, Van Morrison and country singer Don Gibson. Knowing a new album was on the way, I was hoping for new songs, but it wasn’t to be.
It was the late summer of 1989, and one day a package with a cassette inside appeared in the mail. The cassette was an advance copy of the new, as yet, unreleased Bob Dylan album, Oh Mercy. All I knew was the album was recorded in New Orleans with producer Daniel Lanois, whose work I mainly knew from the first Robbie Robertson album. And so I opened that envelope and put Oh Mercy on my tape deck.
From the first note I knew it was a serious Bob Dylan album. Dylan’s two previous studio albums were comprised of covers and originals, recorded at various sessions and were far from having a cohesive feel. A lot of people felt his best work of the past few years was with The Traveling Wilburys. Oh Mercy wasn’t New Orleans R&B, it was Bob Dylan music. The sound was dense with layers of guitars, the production steamy. The songs were deep, dark and mysterious, some funny and some with anger brewing beneath the surface. In other words, everything you want in a Bob Dylan album. Immediately apparent, and perhaps best of all was that Lanois knew how to capture Bob Dylan’s voice at that time. Throughout his career, Bob Dylan has had a spooky intensity, that when it happens, can cuts right through you. It’s a magical thing. It cannot be defined or even named. It doesn’t always happen, but when it does, you know it and it’s on this album in abundance.
After listening to the album, I called a friend heavily into Bob and said, “You have to hear this album.” Skeptical from the last two albums, he didn’t believe me. That night I went to see some friends play at a local bar and he was there. I walked in the bar, walked up to him and said, “Come out to my car right now.” I put on “Ring Them Bells,” “Most Of The Time,” and “Man In The Long Black Coat,” and watched his skepticism change to a smile.
What no one knew until the release of Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3, followed by subsequent bootlegs, was that several major songs were left off the album. Two of those songs were rerecorded for Dylan’s next album Under The Red Sky.
When Dylan returned to the Tower Theater that fall, a few Oh Mercy song were in the set, but typically they sounded nothing like the record, rougher, rawer, louder. “Most Of The Time” melded right into “All Along The Watchtower.” There were surprises in store, but they weren’t necessarily musical. At the end of the second night, Dylan did something I never thought I’d ever see. A crew member brought him a different microphone for his harp, and the band launched into “Leopard Skin Pill-Box Hat.” During a harp solo, Dylan edged closer and closer to the lip of the stage, then jumped into the crowd still playing and ran out a side door ending the show.
When the tour resumed in 1990, with a three-set club show in New Haven Connecticut at Toad’s Place, he debuted a new original song for the first time since 1981. That song was “Wiggle Wiggle.” It was the last time a new original song would be debuted in concert. That show, a warm-up for the coming tour also included numerous covers songs that ranged from “Pretty Peggy-O,” in a far different rendition than the one on his first album to various country songs to blues to Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing In The Dark.” No one knew it at the time, but that show was a forecast of the decade to come.
Late that summer, another album Under The Red Sky, appeared. I was writing for a local weekly and much to the displeasure of my editor covered every Dylan show in and around Philly. Late that summer, I was contacted at the paper where I worked by Bob Dylan’s publicity agent Elliot Mintz. Unfortunately, I was in the hospital, with a lot of broken bones, having been a robbery victim the night before. The day I was released from the hospital, a tape arrived in the mail from Mintz. It was Under The Red Sky. Produced by Don Was, it had a different sound and different feel than Oh Mercy. Was had a different production style than Lanois. Lanois, with a couple of exceptions provided Dylan with the same crew of musicians. Among other things, this enables a groove to happen, and once the musicians find that groove, then the sessions start to flow. While maintaining the same rhythm section, Was had different guitar players and keyboard players on each session.
Many of the tunes sounded like apocalyptic nursery rhymes and in a sense they were. It should be pointed out that many nursery rhymes were originally broadsides, sung or shouted in the streets and about topical issues, often mocking royalty. At roughly the same time, Dylan was also recording the second Traveling Wilburys album and touring. Following those two albums, Dylan concentrated on touring and it would seven long years before there was a new album of original Bob Dylan songs and two years, before there was another Bob Dylan album.
After Under The Red Sky, Dylan resumed his extensive touring schedule, stopping briefly that same year to record another album with The Traveling Wilburys. He would not record an album again for two years, and with the exception of such collaborations as “Heartland” with Willie Nelson, did not write another song for seven.
In 1992 and 1993, perhaps searching for his initial inspiration, Dylan recorded two albums of traditional folk and blues songs, Good As I Been To You and World Gone Wrong. With little advance notice or fanfare, a new album, Good As I Been To You appeared. Good As I Been To You was his first solo acoustic album in 28 years. Recording in his home studio, the production was minimal, the performances sometimes rough and unadorned. It was Dylan alone doing old ballads, and blues, a pop song, and closing with the children’s song, “Froggie Went A Courtin’.” The production was minimal, the playing and singing, often rough. A little less than a year later, a similar album World Gone Wrong, was released. It seemed like a little more thought and care went into World Gone Wrong, from the song selection to the album cover, and of course the performance. For the first time since Desire, the album contained liner notes by Bob Dylan. Writing in a different, more linear, though still free-flowing style than he used previously, he wrote about the source of each song and at the same time managed to connect the songs with the current time. Curiously enough, for the first time, he directly addressed his fans, saying the Never Ending Tour ended with the departure of guitarist G.E. Smith in 1991, and then quite humorously naming all the subsequent tours. Nonetheless, fans continued and still continue to call it the Never Ending Tour. At that point in time, it almost seemed being a Dylan fan made you a part of some secret group. I had my friends who may have once listened to Dylan but stopped along the way, and I had my friends I shared Dylan with, which meant going to shows and trading bootlegs. When I went to England a few years later and attended a Dylan conference in Liverpool and took part in some other related Dylan activities, a friend of the friend I was staying with asked me with total seriousness, “Are you part of the Dylan underground?” It cracked me up.
In the mid-’90s, that all would change with the Internet. A friend had been telling me, you have to get on the Internet, there’s this Dylan discussion group, it’s insane! And so I did and discovered there was not only a discussion group, Rec.Music.Dylan, but a Dylan mailing list, Hwy 61, that would deliver Dylan news (mainly from the group) right to your inbox every few hours, and tons of websites that covered every aspect of Dylan, from roots and sources of songs, to religion, to lyric interpretations, to official rarities, to statistical sites about what songs were played where, when and how many times, and then finally an official site that featured both rare and new, live versions of songs. Later on there was the Dylan Pool, where you could bet on what songs would be played during a tour, and win prizes, which also featured among many other things a database where you could look up when a song was played. It seemed as if the Internet was made for Bob Dylan fans. You could meet people from all over the world and discuss Bob Dylan.
In the early winter of ’97, word leaked out that Bob Dylan was recording a new album in Miami with Daniel Lanois returning as producer. This time, Dylan brought the musicians with him, including members of his touring band, drummer Jim Keltner, organist and accordionist Augie Meyers, keyboard player Jim Dickinson, and guitarists Duke Robillard and Bob Britt. Lanois, in addition to playing various guitars, brought in other musicians, drummer Brian Blades, percussionist Tony Mangurian, and slide guitar and dobro player Cindy Cashdollar.
There was very little info about it. Every once in a while mysterious persons would show up on the newsgroup, with little tidbits of info, maybe naming a musician or two, and promptly disappear.
After recording the album, Dylan returned to touring first in Japan, then in Canada and the U.S.
Then in the spring of that year, on the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, leaving my job and turning on my car radio, I was hit with a news bulletin that Bob Dylan was in the hospital with a heart infection. I immediately recalled a day almost 31 years before when my brother came running across a field at camp to tell me Bob Dylan had been in a motorcycle crash. I sat there in the parking lot numb for a few seconds, and went home to an answering machine crammed with messages and a similarly full inbox of e-mails. Dylan fans held their breath for a week until he was released from the hospital.
Sometime early in September, another an advance copy of Time Out Of Mind appeared in the mail The album dominated by blues, with only four out of the 11 songs being ballads. The songs were brooding with a consistent theme of restlessness bordering on despair. Many people, not realizing when the album was recorded immediately confused Dylan’s hospitalization with the album.
On the Internet the discussions in the various Dylan forums started immediately: What does the title mean? Is it from Shakespeare? Is it from Warren Zevon? I always found it self-evident. In just about every song the protagonist is, well, going crazy. The light is too bright, or too dark, the room is too hot or too cold. He hears voices. Whatever the situation is, it’s never right and far from comfortable. The blues had always been a staple of Dylan’s music starting with his first album, and Dylan always made his blues his own, minus the vocal affectations of many of his contemporaries. On Time Out Of Mind, there was a difference because unlike Dylan’s earlier blues recordings, there was a conscious effort to get not only the sound, but the feel of the great blues records of the ’50s.
I’d worked with steel guitarist Cindy Cashdollar who was a perfectionist in the studio and tried to imagine her in the situations I read about. I saw her backstage at an Asleep At The Wheel show in Atlantic City and asked her what the sessions were like.
Time Out Of Mind is dominated by the blues, with only four of its eleven songs being ballads. What separates the blues on Time Out Of Mind from the blues songs on previous albums is a conscious attempt to get the sound of the great blues records of the ’50s. The blues has been a constant in Dylan’s music throughout his career, and one could make a case for him being at heart a blues singer (while being many other things of course). Dylan has always made his blues his own, and when he sings the blues it is without the affectations of many of his contemporaries, whether it’s “Black Crow Blues” or “Obviously Five Believers,” “From A Buick Six” or “Meet Me In The Morning,” “Are You Ready” or “’Til I Fell In Love With You.”
Right around the time of the album’s release, various articles and interviews appeared. But the one article that caught the fan’s attention was an interview with keyboard player Jim Dickinson, where he mentioned two songs not on the album, “Mississippi” and “Girl From The Red River Shore” and said “they left the best song off the record.”
Fans were immediately intrigued even though they only had song titles to go on. “Mississippi” was of course re-recorded for Love And Theft, leaving “Red River Shore” something of a holy grail for collectors. Both songs are among the many high points of this set. My reaction on hearing “Red River Shore” was the same as when I first heard “Blind Willie McTell,” this is the best Bob Dylan song in ages.Descriptions of the sessions sounded like legendary Dylan studio chaos with each take being different than the one before or in a different key.
I’d worked with steel guitarist Cindy Cashdollar who was a perfectionist in the studio and tried to imagine her in the situations I read about. I saw her backstage at an Asleep At The Wheel show in Atlantic City and asked her what the sessions were like. Expecting to hear a tale of misery, she surprised me by saying, “They were fine. Bob knew exactly what he wanted.”
Dylan of course returned to the road and in addition to the songs from Time Out Of Mind, other songs were continually added to the set list, blues songs, country songs, bluegrass songs, songs he’d never played. A lot of people including myself would stay up until the set list appeared on the internet. Some music he dived into deeply, most notably The Stanley Brothers and the country duo, Johnny and Jack. You never knew when or where a new song would appear. It could be in Portugal, it could be in Wilmington. What was clear was that Dylan was not just performing, he was exploring and in doing so exposing his audience to all kinds of music they might not have known about. Once they heard it, or even heard about it, people wanted to know what it was, and where it was from. And usually there was someone on one of the various Dylan Internet forums who would know the answer. As a friend said to me recently, “I wouldn’t have known about the Stanley Brothers if it wasn’t for Bob Dylan.” Simply by performing a song, Dylan did what the purveyors of the sixties folk “revival” always wanted to accomplish, without the didacticism, and, because of the Internet, the result was world-wide. He was, as he said in the film No Direction Home, a “musical expeditionary.”
Within a year, the onstage arrangements of many of those songs had changed considerably. Two of those changed arrangements are included here.
For his part, Bob Dylan told the New York Times, ''Many of my records are more or less blueprints for the songs. This time I didn't want blueprints, I wanted the real thing. When the songs are done right they're done right, and that's it. They're written in stone when they're done right.''
Curiously enough, music is the topic that is often missing from the numerous books and thousands of articles written about Bob Dylan. Instead they dwell on whether he was the “voice of a generation,” whether or not people booed at the Newport Folk Festival, or whether he would offer thoughts on the world situation. Rarely broached is the simple fact that throughout his career Bob Dylan has explored and continues to explore all facets of American roots-based as well as popular music.
When Bob Dylan began what is commonly referred to as the “Never Ending Tour” in 1988, in each set he included at least one traditional folk song. As the tour progressed the songs would change, some played often, some only once. This stopped for a while in ’94, but started again in ’95 and picked up with a vengeance in ’99. By the mid-nineties, when the set lists for shows were posted on the Internet every night and a previously un-played song appeared, people would want to know what it was. Someone would inevitably have the source. Sometimes there would be more than one source. The result was that people would learn about music they wouldn’t have known about otherwise, whether it was a Child ballad, the Carter Family, Reverend Gary Davis, or Johnny and Jack.
In the fall of 2000, he surprised audiences even further by delving into music that was if not quite jazz, certainly jazz and swing influenced. In Dublin, at the Point Depot, he debuted a dramatically rearranged “Tryin’ To Get To Heaven.” A couple of weeks later in Munster, he blew minds by pulling out his only previous excursion into anything remotely jazz, “If Dogs Run Free,” from the 1970 album New Morning. Exactly a month later in Bloomington, Indiana, he surprised audiences by including in the eight-song encore a Sons of the Pioneers song, “Blue Bonnet Girl,” that had shades of Western Swing. The previous spring, Dylan had toured with the Western Swing band, Asleep At The Wheel, who for 40 years have been championing the music of Bob Wills. Six years later Wills would be one of the most played artists on Dylan’s XM Satellite radio show, Theme Time Radio Hour. It was obvious Dylan was up to something, and the answer was found on his next album, “Love And Theft”, which was on one level – and with Bob Dylan there are always several levels – an exploration of specific American music genres. This was continued five years later to some degree on Modern Times.
This, the eighth volume of The Bootleg Series isn’t only about outtakes, alternate takes, and songs never heard. It’s also about making the musical connections, connections that cover the wide canvas of American popular music. This is something that Bob Dylan has done not only during the 18 years this album covers, but for his entire career.
This collection covers the period from Oh Mercy through Modern Times, and includes several outtakes from the sessions for Oh Mercy as well as the sessions for Time Out Of Mind, and songs written for movie soundtracks. These are complemented by several live tracks. There are no outtakes from “Love And Theft”.
Several of the tracks provide insight into how songs take shape in the studio, as well as Dylan’s writing process. Often Dylan will have a line he wants to use and might try it in several songs before it finally finds a home. Sometimes that line can wait for years. This is nothing new. Early on, Dylan said that he’ll carry a song in his head for a long time before finally writing it. A song may also go through several arrangements before the decision on which one to use is made. Sometimes, as hardcore Dylan fans well know, that decision is never made, which is among the reasons The Bootleg Series exists. “He left the best song off the album” is a common sentiment among Dylan fans and one I’m sure that will echo when this collection is heard. There is no great or defining why behind any of this, except that a musician doesn’t hear his or her own work the same way those listening do. It could be how a line is phrased, an instrumental part doesn’t seem right, or that the feel doesn’t capture how the song was originally envisioned. Sometimes from a songwriters’ perspective the song may not live up to what they intended to accomplish. Sometimes a song simply may not fit with the other songs on an album.
Hearing “Red River Shore” for the first time, I could not imagine where it would have fit on Time Out Of Mind. It is different from every other song on that album in feel, lyrics, and arrangement. Its inclusion would have altered the landscape of Time Out Of Mind considerably.
Within a year, the onstage arrangements of many of those songs had changed considerably.
In the songs included on this set for the first time, all kinds of surprises await. In the alternate versions of songs from previously released albums, whether live or in the studio, you may see them in a whole new light. If you care to dig deeper into the lyrics, you may find literary references that span the scope of time. If you follow the musical connections that were begun on “Love And Theft”, and delved into even further on Modern Times, you’ll find they cover the wide canvas of American popular music.
–Peter Stone Brown
Philadelphia, 2008
Mississippi (Outtake, Time Out Of Mind)
One of the remarkable things about Bob Dylan songs is how many different moods and feelings they can evoke, simply by how they are sung, a change in arrangement, a chord, a word, or even their placement on an album. When "Mississippi" appeared on "Love And Theft", it stood out as the prototypical Bob Dylan song on an album that delved deeply into several American music genres. The arrangement gave it a majesty that combined with the instantly quotable lyrics made it an instant classic.
This version conveys a different kind of majesty and is no less powerful and totally masterful. With Bob Dylan on acoustic, Daniel Lanois, on very subtle electric and Tony Garnier on the bass, it not only takes you to the delta, but to the edge of the Mississippi river. The blues guitar figure is reminiscent of the feel Dylan's work on the New York sessions for Blood On The Tracks. Dylan's vocal is almost as if he's letting the words sing themselves, and the song is flowing through him singing hard on some lines, backing off on others, magically managing to pull off both at the same time. Listen to the gentleness when he sings, I've got nothing but affection for those who sailed with me.
Most Of The Time (Alternate version, Oh Mercy)
On Oh Mercy, this song was brooding bordering on menacing. This solo, guitar and harp rendition is undoubtedly a first take and a bit more self assured, the sadness found in a different, more inherent way. Where the Oh Mercy version seems mired in ironic denial, this one has some hope even if it's pensive.
This is also reflected by the lyric changes in the third verse:
I've got enough faith and I've got enough strength
I keep it all away way beyond arm's length
which were eventually replaced by
I don't build up illusion 'till it makes me sick
I ain't afraid of confusion no matter how thick.
The former makes the next line: I can smile in the face of mankind more convincing.
On Oh Mercy, it seemed like the words were saying one thing, but Dylan's voice and phrasing were saying the opposite. At the same time, the irony was what made the song.
On first hearing, this take brought back the Biograph version of "Forever Young" in that it stays major where you expect it to go minor, though the bridge to the song remains intact.
Dylan's clear and strong acoustic playing is simply terrific and his subtle use of bass lines combined with the harp goes back to another era entirely. It is not the guitar style he would use a few years later on the two acoustic albums. There is something about Bob Dylan sing and playing alone with just guitar and harp that is immediately compelling. The more I hear this version, the more I wonder what Oh Mercy, as much as I love it, would have been like if the whole album was recorded this way.
Dignity (Piano demo, Oh Mercy)
"Dignity" was recorded several times for Oh Mercy. None of the takes were used, though one take eventually surfaced on Greatest Hits Volume Three. On that version all the tracks except for Dylan's vocal and piano were wiped and replaced by new tracks. This solo rendition is slower than any of the other known takes, revealing the original beauty of the song as well as the promise behind the lyrics. It is notable for the line: Soul of a nation is under the knife/Death is standin' in the doorway of life.
Someday Baby (Alternate version, Modern Times)
This is a total surprise that moves this song away from the blues based version on Modern Times into another realm that is not quite rock and not quite pop. Many of the verses are totally rewritten, and while on Modern Times, it could have been passed over as just another blues song, here the lyrics may be far more effective.
Red River (Unreleased, Time Out Of Mind)
To say that this song lives up to imagined promise after more than a decade of anticipation is severely understating the case. This is without question possibly the greatest Bob Dylan song and recording of the past quarter-century. The timbre of his voice says it all, the sadness inherent, the vocal as real and natural as any he's done. The opening verse is exquisite:
Some of us turn off the lights and we live
In the moonlight shootin' by
Some of us scare ourselves to death in the dark
To be where the angels fly
Beginning with just guitars and bass, the lead guitar recalling Ry Cooder at his most soulful. On the third verse, organ and drums slip in followed by Augie Meyer's Tex-Mex accordion on the fourth verse, and a dobro on the sixth. The way the instruments fade in adds impact and depth not only to the verse, but the line they come in on, never interfering, only enhancing the always out-front vocal. The effect of the arrangement is like driving up a long, slow western mountain, where you don't even realize you're climbing at first.
The lyrics hit on several levels all at once and seem to move in and out of a dreamlike state. There are several quotable lines and surely such lines as the closing, Sometimes I think nobody ever saw me here at all/Except the girl from the red river shore will be discussed as long as people are discussing Dylan songs. Is the girl in the song, real, imagined, a ghost? It doesn't matter. What does matter is that when Dylan sings, Well the dream dried up a long time ago/Don't know where it is anymore, it's as real as it gets.
Tell Ole Bill (Alternate version)
Written for the 2005 film, North Country, Dylan did at least a dozen takes of this in the studio. This minor key rendition is dramatically different than the soundtrack version which was based on a Carter Family song, "I Never Loved But One."
Playwright and actor, Sam Shepherd once wrote that "Dylan moves into mysticism with an E-minor chord," and that sentiment applies here. Lines that seemed little more than nice on the previous version, ring with startling intensity, and punctuated by the rollicking bass notes of Dylan's piano, the song has a whole new meaning than the previous version. While some of the lyrics reflect 19th Century poetry, such lines as, I lay awake at night with troubled dreams/The enemy is at the gate, move the song into another context.
Born In Time (Alternate version, Oh Mercy)
This is simply one of the most beautiful love songs of any Dylan era, though one couldn't necessarily tell that from the version on Under The Red Sky. While some of lyric changes on other versions may have improved the song, this take cannot be surpassed for emotional impact, which is in the sound and feel of Dylan's voice and his superb phrasing. Why this song was left off Oh Mercy will remain one of the great bewildering Dylan mysteries. The almost ghostly instrumental backing stays subtly in the background, with Daniel Lanois' dobro taking the lead in shimmering solos.
Can't Wait (Demo, Time Out Of Mind,)
On Time Out Of Mind, this song began with guitars, that reflected early Chicago blues. This starts with Dylan on piano and you can hear the musicians finding their way into the song as it proceeds, as additional instruments join in. The lyrics were not yet in any definite format, and some may be startled to hear a line that ended up being one of the key lines in "Sugar Baby," four years later:
Well my back is to the sun because the light is too intense/I can see what everybody in the world is up against.
Everything Is Broken (Alternate version, Oh Mercy)
This has circulated under the name "Broken Days." This a more straight ahead, basic version without some of the extra instrumentation that appeared on Oh Mercy, and as a result is definitely funkier, rocking a bit harder. Lyrical changes abound especially on the bridges, where Dylan's voice and phrasing suddenly and almost humorously sound strangely enough like Blonde On Blonde.
Dreamin' Of You (Unreleased, Time Out Of Mind)
One of the wildest songs on this collection, this is set to a freeform groove that somehow manages the astounding task of being reminiscent of both "Highlands" and "Yea Heavy And A Bottle Of Bread," with the first line using the second verse of "Standing In The Doorway." Lines from that song and others appear in the strangest places, and you will find yourself saying wait a minute, what song is that from? Dylan half-talks, half-sings, his phrasing recalls numerous past albums, and different lines leap at you each time you hear it. Despite the numerous lines that ended up in other songs, creating a real glimpse into Dylan's writing process, it stands on its own, and in a crazy way, manages to sum up the feel of Time Out Of Mind in its entirety.
Huck's Tune (from Lucky You soundtrack)
Recorded in 2006, but because of delays in the film being released, it didn't appear until the spring of 2007. On the day this came out, the record stores couldn't have been open more than an hour, before a friend posted to the Dylan Pool, "All the Mary little elves can go hang themselves," one of the many great lines in this overlooked song. Of course, he's really singing merry, but on first listen, it was easy to hear something different.
Again Dylan draws on traditional music for inspiration. The finger-picking introduction that also appears between the verses, is from the Scottish ballad, "Tramps And Hawkers." A book could be written on the origins of this melody, as it appears in several Scottish and Irish songs, among them Lakes Of Pontchartrain, which Dylan has performed several times on stage. If you go back to "The Ballad Of Donald White" and "I Pity The Poor Immigrant," you'll find variants of this melody there also.
As with many of the other Bob Dylan songs composed specifically for soundtracks, it transcends its original intentions. The character in the song is locked deep in despair and more than willing to admit it. With lines that constantly interchange from descriptive to poetic to matter of fact, this song deserves the attention it will hopefully receive by its inclusion on this disc.
Anyone who's ever played the slots or just been to a casino can relate to the verse:
Here come the nurse with money in her purse
Here come the ladies and men
You push it all in and you've no chance to win
You play 'em on down to the end
Marching To The City (Unreleased, Time Out Of Mind)
This slow blues tinged with gospel, especially in Dylan's piano playing, is notable for many reasons. Shortly into the song, familiar lines from other songs again appear, most obviously from, "'Til I Fell In Love With You," and "Not Dark Yet," but it's impossible to ascertain if they started here, or if Dylan was trying lines he liked in various songs to find where they fit best.
More to the point, this is one of the strongest blues vocals of Dylan's career. He is totally at home, confident, and in command. Once the band locks into the groove, they stay there as the vocal grows increasingly intense. This isn't an approximation of the blues. It is the blues.
High Water (for Charlie Patton) (Live, August 23, 2003, Oakes Garden Theatre, Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada)
Suddenly we are transported to the stage, and "High Water (for Charlie Patton)" which on "Love And Theft" was rocked up bluegrass with more than a few hints of old time country, is now a ferocious rocker. No trace of its previous incarnation is to be found. Dylan's piano pounces on the chords, while the crazed interplay of the guitars of Larry Campbell and Freddy Koella take the song to another plane entirely. The whole song is one relentless attack. Dylan shouts out the vocals like a man about to go under, and Koella, in perhaps his finest performance with Dylan, takes his guitar into the stratosphere, staying funky the entire time, then brings it back to earth for an un-paralled closer.
Mississippi (Outtake, Time Out Of Mind)
This is a full-band, yet low-key but funky rendition that kind of ambles casually along, with the power reserved for the second part of each verse. What's interesting is that the feel and the beat are very close to Dylan's live performances over the past few years, while the second ascending part of each verse move into "Love And Theft" territory. Not as strong as the version on disc one, or the version on "Love And Theft", it's kind of an on the way marker for the future.
The Lonesome River with Ralph Stanley (Originally released on Clinch Mountain Country, Rebel Records, released May 19, 1998, recorded November 30, 1997. Bob Dylan: vocal, acoustic guitar, with Ralph Stanley & The Clinch Mountain Boys: Ralph Stanley: vocal & banjo; Jack Cooke upright bass; Ralph Stanley II: rhythm guitar; James Shelton: guitar; Steve Sparkman: banjo; James Price: fiddle; John Rigsby: mandolin.)
In the second half of the '90s, especially after Larry Campbell joined the band, Bob Dylan went through what has to be termed a major Stanley Brothers phase. It started slowly at first, but after this tune was recorded, an increasing number of Stanley Brothers songs were added to the shows, and stayed part of the shows for a few years.
The Stanley Brothers, Ralph and Carter, along with their band the Clinch Mountain Boys, are at the top of the Bluegrass pantheon, right next to Bill Monroe and Flatt & Scruggs. Carter Stanley died in 1966, but Ralph kept playing, receiving his greatest fame at age 75, for his part in the soundtrack of the film, O Brother, Where Art Thou. One of the great singers, his voice cuts right to the spine. On this recording, Bob sings all the verses, with Ralph coming in on the choruses. When Ralph comes in on the chorus, his voice is so strong and chorus so high, that this great brief moment of tension is created where you're left wondering if Dylan is gonna match the note, but each time he does. While more than likely unintended here, that creating of tension has been one of the great performing tricks of Dylan's career going all the way back to his first album and another country song, "Freight Train Blues," where you also wondered just how long he'd hold the falsetto.
Series of Dreams (Outtake, Oh Mercy)
Another classic that easily falls into the "he left the best song off the album" category. Given that, there are innumerable reasons why an artist or a producer may not include something on an album, and that a musician or a producer do not hear the song the way those listening do. Similar to the track on Bootleg Series, Volumes 1-3, but stripped of the frills and overdubs done a few years later in New York, this may be the take Dylan talked about in Chronicles Volume 1. I don't know. What I do know is that it matches, if not surpasses the earlier released version.
God Knows (Outtake, Oh Mercy)
An early rendition lyrically and musically of the song that would eventually appear on Under The Red Sky, this is another interesting look at Dylan's creative process, how he'll continually rework not only the tune but the lyrics until it gets to where he wants it to go. What sets Dylan apart from every other singer-songwriter is that he will often continue to do this after a song is released. On one level this means the songs are never finished and constantly evolving. What makes this process even more fun is that once he's taken a song as far out as he can take it, he'll then go back to something approximating the original album version and start the process all over again.
I Can't Escape From You (2005)
Written for a film, but not used, this was recorded about six months before Modern Times. Dylan is playing organ, Donnie Herron is on piano. Dylan is singing in possibly the lowest register he's put on a record. It shares with "Tell Ole Bill," and "Huck's Tune" a writing style that seems to transverse centuries, and with the latter song a description of a Christmas that is not what it should be. Musically it crosses from early rock and roll balladry into Memphis soul, Nashville Country and back again.
Dignity (Outtake, Oh Mercy)
"Dignity" is tried a rockabilly mode, and sounds like something that might have emerged from Sun Studios 30 years before. Dylan's singing is looser than on the other takes, and as usual lyric changes abounds. Whether this arrangement holds up in the long run is an open question, but hearing it this way, it's fun to imagine what Elvis might have done with it.
Ring Them Bells (Supper Club, New York, NY, November 17, 1993)
In November of 1993, Bob Dylan did four shows at the intimate Supper Club in New York. It was Dylan's first New York City club appearance since 1962, and the shows were free. All the shows were exactly one hour long, and were acoustic, except for Bucky Baxter's pedal steel. Both nights were recorded and filmed, but never used, though two videos surfaced on the Highway 61 Interactive CD rom. Somehow Dylan managed to capture his entire career in that one hour.
I was lucky enough to see the second show of the first night, and it remains my favorite show of the "Never Ending Tour." The audience, crammed around tables large enough to hold drinks and an ashtray was ecstatic throughout. The band was tight and Dylan's singing was beyond powerful. "Ring Them Bells" performed at every show, was one of several high points at number eight in the set, and each version has something special to recommend it.
Cocaine (Live, August 24, 1997, Wolf Trap Filene Center,)
"Cocaine" is an old blues song originally done by the amazing blues guitarist and singer, Reverend Gary Davis. Dylan sang the song early in his career and revived it in the mid-nineties. Possibly learned it from Dave Van Ronk, whose version on his album Folksinger was definitive. Every guitar player in Washington Square in the '60s had to know how to play Van Ronk's finger-picking part.
Dylan started singing it again at some point in the '90s and for awhile it became a staple of his shows. This version features lead guitarist and Larry Campbell and steel guitarist Bucky Baxter on backup vocals.
Ain't Talkin' (Alternate version, Modern Times)
An earlier take of the chilling closer to Modern Times, this version doesn't have the intro (or the outro), Donnie Herron is on steel instead of viola, and Stu Kimball's finger-picking part is nowhere to be found. Leaning ever so slightly more towards rock, this take has several changes in the lyrics, most notably the omission of the last verse, ending with a repeat of the first verse, giving the song an entirely different meaning.
The Girl On The Green Briar Shore (Live, June 30, 1992, Cote d'Opale, Kursaal, Dunkerque, France)
This song about another elusive girl, who could be a ghost, and possibly part of the inspiration for "Red River Shore" was performed twice in Europe by Dylan alone on acoustic in the summer of 1992. Recorded by the Carter Family and Ralph Stanley, Dylan more than likely learned it from the singing of Tom Paley of the New Lost City Ramblers. When Dylan pulls out these old songs, he seems to transcend time and you feel the ages roll by. A lot of ballad singers, folk singers, and singers of traditional songs often treat the songs as relics, a museum piece to be admired. When Dylan does a traditional ballad, he makes the song, the characters in the song, and the story in the song come alive.
Lonesome Day Blues, (Live, February 1, 2002, National Car Rental Center, Sunrise, Florida.)
A searing and funky live version of one of the highlights of "Love And Theft", Dylan's vocals are a raspy delight. The way he barks out various lines, starting with the opening line, emphasizing key words throughout couldn't be more perfect. The band never lets up, staying very close to the album arrangement. While this song could be taken simply as a straight blues about a sad and lonesome day, a book could be written about the innumerable references is this song, which run far and wide and include among others, Blind Willie Johnson, Woody Guthrie, to Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn, and W.C. Fields in The Fatal Glass of Beer.
Duncan And Brady (Unreleased, 1992)
In June of 1992, Dylan recorded several songs in Chicago, with guitarist and singer, David Bromberg producing. Bromberg had worked with Dylan in 1970 on Self Portrait and New Morning. Most though not all of the songs were traditional folk songs and blues. This song, usually attributed to Leadbelly became part of Dylan's live shows several years later. Highlighted by Bromberg's slide guitar, this version simply kicks. The drummer is Richard Crooks who on played on "Meet Me In The Morning" on Blood On The Tracks.
Miss The Mississippi And You (Unreleased, 1992)
Also from the sessions with Bromberg, this one of Jimmie Rodger's classic tunes. Rodgers was one of the greatest singers, songwriters and musical innovators of the 20th Century inspiring not only every singer in country music but blues artists such as Howlin' Wolf as well. One of Dylan's best vocals from 1992, live or on record, this rendition with Bromberg on dobro stays true to Rodgers' original. In 1997, Dylan produced a tribute album to Rodgers with several other artists taking part. The liner notes to that album are one of the best pieces of prose Dylan has written so far.
Across The Green Mountain (Gods and Generals soundtrack, recorded July 2002)
Written for the epic TV film about the Civil War, this stands apart from everything else Dylan was doing musically at this time. Dylan wrote about his fascination with the Civil War in Chronicles, Volume One. Lyrically, it is from the period it evokes, and it's dirge-like, mournful quality will stand as one of his major works of the decade. Everything about this recording is carefully constructed, from Larry Campbell's violin to Dylan's somber vocal which has no extraneous flourishes.
Tryin' To Get To Heaven (Live, October 5, 2000, Wembley Arena, London, England)
When Bob Dylan debuted rearrangement in fall of 2000, it was like nothing he'd done before, and immediately was recognized as a must-see performance. Hearing it the first time, it felt as if this was the way he heard it in his mind, but couldn't get there at the time he wrote it. The guitar work of Larry Campbell and Charlie Sexton is celestial, and Dylan sings with a reserve rarely displayed, yet the emotion is fully intact. Of all the hundreds of live Dylan recordings, the live versions of this arrangement are at the top.
What makes the song into this arrangement even more fascinating is that the lines of the verses are extracted from various folk songs, something many people realized quickly after Time Out Of Mind was released. There was a huge thread on RMD, with various people contributing sources. Sometimes lines came from more than one song. It was a lot of fun, almost like putting together pieces of a giant puzzle and went on for several days. In the midst of this, I suddenly remembered I had an old album, an album I'd had since I was a kid, with Alan Lomax, Peggy Seeger, and Guy Carawan. On that album was a children's street song, "Ridin' In A Buggy." Riding in that buggy was Mary Jane who had a house in Baltimore.
Series of Dreams (Outtake, Oh Mercy)
If "Series of Dreams," had been on Oh Mercy, this is what it would have sounded like. This is the final Daniel Lanois mix.
While this version is a different take, one can hear what ideas were kept for the New York remix on Bootleg Series, Volumes 1-3, and perhaps more importantly, what was lost. If you listen real closely, you'll hear how different guitars, some fading in and out, accentuate each verse and musical interlude, and how what starts as a heartbeat pulse at the beginning at the end becomes a train, a rhythm guitar counting out the rails, taking the song into the tunnel of dreams where it always wanted to go.
Mississippi (Alternate outtake, Time Out Of Mind)
Musically, this is somewhere between the versions on disc one and disc two, with a smaller band, with what sounds like Dylan on lead guitar and Augie Meyers on organ. Immediately noticeable are the lyric changes, and how those changes give the song a whole new perspective and feel. The more I hear this, the more entranced I become with Dylan's vocal, what lines he emphasizes, and what words, and how with each listen a different line stands out.
Ring Them Bells (Outtake, Oh Mercy)
Bob Dylan, solo on piano in a rendition very similar to the album take. While there were many reasons for Dylan to work with Daniel Lanois at the times he did, the intriguing thing is how well these songs stand up in solo versions. This is some of Dylan's finest piano work, and the song really doesn't need anything else.
Born In Time (Outtake, Oh Mercy)
Slightly more upbeat, than the take on disc one, and a little less ethereal, the piano is way down in the mix, replaced by a lush wall of acoustic guitars, while various other instruments weave in and out, sometimes for a second and disappear. Dylan's vocal is more cautious, and not quite as musing as the one on disc one.
Red River Shore (Alternate outtake, Time Out Of Mind)
A full band version from the start with Augie Meyer's accordion leading things off, and the Tex-Mex feel is more prominent, aided by a mandolin that appears at key moments, and occasional Spanish guitar licks, that arrive and vanish like the girl in the song. Dylan's vocal is no less impassioned and this stands as a more than worthy companion to the track on disc one.
Things Have Changed (Live, June 15, 2000, Roseland Theater, Portland Oregon)
Written for the film, Wonder Boys, this Oscar-winning song earned Dylan his first regular airplay for a new song in quite some time. It's usually a good idea not to compare a song, especially one written specifically for a project, to anything in an artist's life, but the alienation expressed in the lyrics resonated way beyond the film to the time in which the song was released. This unique live version, performed in this arrangement only once, finds the song in a slower, spookier, more rolling arrangement, reminiscent of the Basement Tapes version of "This Wheel's On Fire" with his excellent band at full power. Dylan sings the line: Just for a second there, I thought I saw something move, as if he actually did just see something move.
Doin' Alright (Alternate outtake, Time Out Of Mind)
"Doin' Alright" would've fit right into the Basement Tapes. In essence this is "Marching To The City," in a more jaunty groove, highlighted by Augie Meyers organ, moving at a fast clip towards metamorphosing into "'Till I Fell In Love With You," with quite a few improvised detours on the way. Once again, various familiar lines are interjected, while others are quickly abandoned.
Down Along The Cove (Live, June 11, 2004, Bonnaroo, Music Festival, Manchester, Tennessee)
For anyone who hasn't been to a Dylan concert in the last decade, and only knows this song from John Wesley Harding, what was a mild country boogie, is now a full blown rocker, with new chord changes and a lot of action along that cove, with several new verses. More to the point, this song sizzles and the guitars never rest. This soundboard recording captures not only the musicians (you can actually hear what Tony Garnier is doing on bass) but the excitement of the audience as well. Experiencing this song live is a word not usually associated with Bob Dylan, and that word is fun.
Most Of The Time (Outtake, alternate version, Oh Mercy)
Very close to the track on Oh Mercy, this take has some additional instruments brought up in the mix, and the bass is even more out front. The guitars still wail in the background, while others appear in the front, ultimately giving the song a different color.
Cold Irons Bound (Live, June 11, 2004, Bonnaroo, Music Festival, Manchester, Tennessee)
On Time Out Of Mind, the ghost of Howlin' Wolf hovered all around this song. In concert, it eventually turned into something else entirely and for quite a while was the mid-point show stopper, the song that got everyone on their feet. Meant to be played loud, the band is roaring and Dylan is roaring right with them. Check out how he sings "proved true."
Can't Wait (Alternate version, Time Out Of Mind)
Slow, somber, with all the tension implicit in the song's title brought eerily to life and stretched to the snapping point, with the organ dominant, this startling take is one of Bob Dylan's scariest vocals committed to disc. The lyrical changes reflect an anger - listen to the first verse after the opening chorus -- that is not in any other versions, and Dylan's smoldering delivery makes it even more so.