Review: Bob Dylan

 Bob Dylan - Bob Dylan

Rating: 8/10 (Very Good)

Track Listing (highlights are bolded):

1. "You're No Good"

2. "Talkin' New York"

3. "In My Time of Dyin'"

4. "Man of Constant Sorrow"

5. "Fixin' to Die"

6. "Pretty Peggy-O"

7. "Highway 51"

8. "Gospel Plow"

9. "Baby, Let Me Follow You Down"

10. "House of the Risin' Sun"

11. "Freight Train Blues"

12. "Song to Woody"

13. "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean"

Review:

It's almost heartwarming to look back at the humbleness of this album nearly 60 years after its release. I mean, there you have the legend himself, looking back at us with that inobtrusive confidence. Nothing here remotely screams "grand artistic vision" or "bold cockiness," instead boasting no more than two quite ordinary original compositions and a bunch of folk/blues standards. By the looks of this, I don't think Bob would have believed that in just 3 years, he would be hailed one of the century's greatest artists. He takes minimal risks on the record, firmly intending this to be a toss-off. As a result, it is his least acclaimed album of the 60s, forever overshadowed by the monumental impact of Freewheelin'.

Yet, blame it on his magical presence: I absolutely love this record, and it's been one of my favorite Dylan albums from the first time I heard it. I understand it's formative and imperfect, but that is precisely why the album is so precious: it's the rawest form of Dylan we ever got. This is the only time we can catch him without a mask and get to see the man for who he is, even if it is through Bukka White, Blind Lemon Jefferson, and the others he covers. Once he began towards Freewheelin', Bob Dylan the musical enigma would be born. From then on out, it was impossible to tell whether he was being serious or playing a prank on us feeble listeners. He became the impenetrable genius that we all revere but struggle to understand. Here, we get Bob Dylan the ordinary, honest, lovable human being, a rare treat that I never will stop cherishing.

Yes, hardcore fans will probably take an issue with the lack of original compositions and complain that the covers are unremarkable. I can definitely understand the problem with the former: Dylan is at his best when guiding the ship the whole way through. Yet, suggesting the latter is akin to dismissing the early Stones as "boring blues covers" or the early Beatles as "teeny twee pop." Dylan was a great poet and songwriter, but what made him intriguing was his charisma, performing, and voice above everything else. Each of these covers is special because it is Bob covering them, and he has quite a lot of personality to spare. If you cannot see how Bob covering old folk/blues standards can be great, it will be hard to understand the big deal about albums like Bringing It All Back Home.

You don't need to hear more than the first track to get what John Hammond saw in young Dylan. Jesse Fuller's original is a lovely dance tune, but it is still fairly typical in form compared to other types of danceable country blues (Blind Willie McTell, for example). Dylan's version is so much juicier vocally, where every moment has an exciting vocal acrobatic move. It's a delight to hear him give the song a sharp rock n' roll edge with all those strange but effective vocal twists. This already reveals the greatness of Dylan the singer, prima facie ugly and unpleasant but with further listens becomes impressive and cuts deep. I would even compare his use of vocals to how Hendrix would wield his guitar: highly unconventional and harsh on the ears, but they use their musical weapons in such unique ways that it unlocks a mind-blowing palette of emotions. Add in his highly expressive style of harmonica playing, from the tight attack on "Gospel Plow" to the quiet melancholy on "Man of Constant Sorrow," and you got yourself a highly original performer who could put his stamp on anything you give him.

Even more impressive is how successfully he pays tribute to the giants of acoustic blues: Blind Willie Johnson, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Bukka White, and Blind Lemon Jefferson are all represented. There's no way that Dylan could match the technique of McDowell or Lemon Jefferson, but with his charisma and voice, each of these covers is successful. "Freight Train Blues" is fast and funny, and "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean" unlocks the subtle menace only hinted at in the original. The real cream of the crop are "Fixin To Die" and "In My Time of Dyin'," where his strained, forceful wails on both truly sound like a man groaning in pain in his last moments. 

Despite the excellent interpreting and performing, some of Dylan's most significant trademarks are established here. "Talkin' New York" is the first of his many great talking-blues songs (though I wish he put the hilarious "Talkin' Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues" instead). He records his signature rendition of "Baby Let Me Follow You Down," becoming a staple of his live act. We even get a kickass performance of "Highway 51 Blues" (much darker in tone than "Highway 61 Revisited" indeed). The most famous number on his debut is the cover of "House of the Risin' Sun," one of the most famous (and best) versions. The timbre of Dylan's voice is so powerful that all he needs to do is sing it at a soft volume for it to become harrowing. Von Ronk tried his very best, but his delivery was no match for Dylan's beaten-down, skin-crawling groan. When the Animals would do it, they would make it a fiery, passionate warning call but lost a lot of this version's subtle terror and internalized world-weariness. 

Though, my favorite song on the record (and honestly one of my favorite Dylan songs) is the beautiful "Song To Woody." I get that it is just nicking off Woody's "1913 Massacre," but it is one of Bob's rawest, most sincere performances. Dylan confesses his deep affection for his musical heroes, almost as if he knew his great journey was about to begin and wants to get a last blessing from his idol. I feel only big music fans can sympathize with it: few songs express a deep-rooted love for an artist you love as a parent. The only flaw of the number is that it should have been the finale: the final farewell before the real show begins.

So, while it is possible to start your journey with Freewheelin' and entirely ignore this record, I personally feel that would be a great loss for the listener. To continue the previous analogy, it would be like doing the same thing with the Beatles with Rubber Soul or the Rolling Stones with Aftermath: that approach is easier to take, but with great artists, the journey to the peak of the mountain is much more rewarding than simply focusing on the highlights. Not only does this record capture his inner essence incredibly well but also is so much fun. It may not be outstanding, but he does this album with lots of energy and an impressive emotional range. If you like roots music and Dylan, it will be a delight. And even if this record doesn't do much for you, pay your respects to it anyways: it is the beginning of one of the 20th century's most iconic artists. How could you want to miss the very beginning of that?