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Paul Weller – Fat Pop (Volume 1)

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Now into his seventh decade, Paul Weller has resisted any and all invitations to write his memoir. At the last count six biographies bearing his name have been published, but ever the modernist, Weller views his creative past rather like a motorist might look in the rear-view mirror – foot on the ...

Now into his seventh decade, Paul Weller has resisted any and all invitations to write his memoir. At the last count six biographies bearing his name have been published, but ever the modernist, Weller views his creative past rather like a motorist might look in the rear-view mirror – foot on the pedal, in constant forward motion.

However, for anyone seeking a set text to lead us to the existential essence of Wellerworld, there is one book that will get you further than the others. Published in 2007, Suburban 100 saw Weller select his favourite lyrics spanning his time with The Jam, plus The Style Council and his solo years. Included almost as footnotes at the bottom of every lyric were quotes from Weller himself, shedding light on the inspirations, circumstances and intentions that helped give life to modern standards “That’s Entertainmentâ€, “Shout To The Top†and “Wild Woodâ€.

Let’s look at what Weller has to say about The Jam’s second No 1 single “Start!â€: “I was thinking about the power of music and the power of a pop song, how two or three minutes could say so much to so many. And what’s it always meant to me. I was stripping words back to the bare minimum at the time, just getting to the point. Pop music, for want of a better term, is the only art form that can communicate directly and emotionally on that level.â€

It almost certainly wouldn’t have occurred to Weller as he alighted upon the title of his new album that 40 years had elapsed since “Start!â€; a proper modernist doesn’t dwell too long on these things. But the rest of us are not bound by those rules. And so it’s oddly touching to see the title track on his 16th solo album worshipping at the same thematic altar as its distant predecessor, albeit with a lolloping funk gate, the occasional smoke plume of woodwind and garnish of G-funk keyboard, with space between those constituent parts for Weller to navigate a familiar line of inquiry: “Who raised the game when the game was poor/And sent our heads in search of more/Made you question all you’d learnt before?/Ah, Fat – Pop!â€

The existence of Fat Pop is proof that music can act as a lifeline even in the most turbulent of times. Had the world not ground to a halt in 2020, much of Weller’s year would have been spent promoting and touring On Sunset, its acclaimed predecessor. For the proprietor of Black Barn Studios, set in the Surrey countryside, not far from the Woking streets of his childhood, here was a chance to maintain his momentum – and to have fun in a world which, at times, seemed bereft of it. It’s there from the outset. Vocally and lyrically, “Cosmic Fringes†dips from the same inkwell as a young Ray Davies, refracted through a bolshy persona that recalls recent Baxter Dury albums. Over a krautrock groove, Weller recasts himself as a self-styled online warrior, omnipotent in front of his screen – “Stumble to the fridge/And back to bed again†– but impotent beyond the home he never leaves.

In the tradition of previous opening tracks “Green†(Sonik Kicks) and “Mirror Ball†(On Sunset), as well as the title track to Wake Up The Nation, you suspect “Cosmic Fringes†is there to shake up expectations, ruffle a few feather cuts. For all of that, though, what sits at the heart of the record is a cluster of songs that, for all their experimental flourishes, draw deepest and most audibly on Weller’s lifelong love of soul music. Turning in his most prominent guest vocal since Kate Bush asked him to help her on her 2011 song “Wild Manâ€, that’s sometime Amen Corner legend Andy Fairweather Low trading lines with Weller on “Testifyâ€. If Curtis Mayfield or Jon Lucien were still around, it’s no great stretch to imagine them assisting on “That Pleasure†– a sun-soaked call to love that feels like a sublime companion piece to a handful of cosmic soul invocations from the Modfather’s canon, most notably On Sunset’s “Baptiste†and Wake Up The Nation’s “Aim Highâ€.

It’s in this musical and emotional postcode that most of Fat Pop’s most stellar moments are to be found. In the days of The Jam and The Style Council, when Weller wanted to find a means of imparting spiritual uplift with gospel directness, he had to borrow songs by other singers – “Move On Upâ€, “Promised Land†– to do it. Not any more. “Can see the good things in your life?†he asks on “Cobweb / Connectionsâ€, as a sweet holding pattern of acoustic downstrokes and handclaps is blown into the blue by a chorus that beseeches its audience to revel in the miracle of their own consciousness. On “In Better Timesâ€, he’s the paternal confidant, trying to make his own experiences meaningful to a lost young soul whose own lack of them has cast them adrift: “What you need is to see/It’s OK to be yourself/And that with belief/The world will do the rest.†He gets to the final verse without shedding a tear. You might not.

Would the teenage Weller have baulked at the sunny universality that beams out from so much of Fat Pop? Possibly, but then so would many of his fans in their younger years. The sense that these are truths earned merely by turning up to the job of being alive on the bad days as well as the good is the heat source of so many of Fat Pop’s greatest moments. To listen to “Glad Times†is to be reminded in an instant that he’s long since found the expressive tools to become the thing he once admired from afar. Listen to the way Weller sings, “We go for days without a word/Without a kiss/Both looking for something that we missedâ€, and it’s no stretch to imagine Bobby Womack inhabiting the same role, urging his lover to stay strong in the turbulent now so that they can be together later, when better days ensue. The regretful self-interrogations of “Failed†are measured out over a kinetic chug that calls to mind JJ Cale. There’s a palpable ache at play here that echoes the mood of the Wild Wood album: “If everything was different now/How different would I be?/If I could change one thing around/Would that pattern still be complete?â€

The Weller of 2021 is happy to mainline his inspirations but stops short of being in thrall to them. To understand how he does that, note the celestial rush of strings that eddies around Weller’s vocals on “Glad Times†and “That Pleasureâ€. Both arrangements by fêted electronic expeditionary Hannah Peel confer upon these songs a sense of wonder that propels them beyond their constituent parts. If Weller likes your new record, you’ll soon know about it because there’s every chance he’ll invite you to do something on his. If you’re listening to the album’s second song, “Trueâ€, for the first time, you’re likely also receiving your introduction to Lia Metcalfe of Liverpool trio The Mysterines. That’s Weller’s daughter Leah on “Shades Of Blueâ€, who, with her own solo debut out shortly, seems to have been as productive as her dad during lockdown.

And here, as with every album since Wake Up The Nation, is engineer and co-producer Jan “Stan†Kybert. As resident de-clutterer of Weller’s sound-world of some 10 years’ standing, it seems to be Kybert’s presence that allows Weller to blur the boundary between experimentalism and enthusiasm without losing sight of the ultimate objective: to make something that scratches the same itch that first propelled him and his audience into a record shop. This is why he’ll never make the big legacy album or reform his previous bands. To keep that hunger alive, you need to feed it with new inspirations. What you can hear on Fat Pop is the reciprocation of that care. As some promising young songwriter once put it, “What you give is what you getâ€. That was the theory – 41 years later, here’s the proof.

Watch a trailer for Edgar Wright’s Sparks documentary

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Edgar Wright's documentary film The Sparks Brothers will premiere in the UK at Sundance Film Festival: London on July 29, before screening in selected cinemas across the country the following day. Watch the official trailer below, featuring testimonies from the likes of Beck, Flea, Jane Wiedlin, ...

Edgar Wright’s documentary film The Sparks Brothers will premiere in the UK at Sundance Film Festival: London on July 29, before screening in selected cinemas across the country the following day.

Watch the official trailer below, featuring testimonies from the likes of Beck, Flea, Jane Wiedlin, Thurston Moore and Todd Rundgren:

According to a press release, The Sparks Brothers unearths “many seldom-seen, or never-seen treasures, from childhood home movies to a Mother’s Day card written by Russell, to a glimpse of the Maels in the audience at The Big TNT Show in 1966, to Ron falling off his stool during the recording of ‘Something For The Girl With Everything.'”

Manic Street Preachers announce new album, The Ultra Vivid Lament

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Manic Street Preachers have announced that their new album, The Ultra Vivid Lament, will be released by Columbia/Sony on September 3. Listen to lead single "Orwellian" below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smImSentyaI According to the band, “The track is about the battle to claim meaning...

Manic Street Preachers have announced that their new album, The Ultra Vivid Lament, will be released by Columbia/Sony on September 3.

Listen to lead single “Orwellian” below:

According to the band, “The track is about the battle to claim meaning, the erasing of context within debate, the overriding sense of factional conflict driven by digital platforms leading to a perpetual state of culture war.”

The Ultra Vivid Lament was recorded over winter 2020/21 at Rockfield Studios in Monmouth and the bands’ own Door To The River studio in Newport with longtime collaborator Dave Eringa. It features two guest vocalists: Julia Cumming (Sunflower Bean) on “The Secret He Had Missed” and Mark Lanegan on “Blank Diary Entry”.

Anyone who pre-orders The Ultra Vivid Lament from the official Manic Street Preachers store will gain access to the pre-sale for the band’s upcoming tour – dates below. Tickets go on general sale on Friday May 21 at 10am.

New Dates
26 September, Newcastle, City Hall
28 September, Edinburgh, Usher Hall
29 September, Dundee, Caird Hall
1 October, Stoke On-Trent, Victoria Hall
2 October, Manchester, Apollo
4 October, York, Barbican
5 October, Glasgow, Barrowlands
7 October, Leeds, Academy
8 October, Portsmouth, Guildhall
10 October, Bournemouth, Academy
11 October, Cambridge, Corn Exchange
13 October, Bath, Forum
14 October, Bristol, Dome
3 December, London, Wembley Arena

Previously Announced
16 July, Cardiff, Arena (NHS workers show)
17 July, Cardiff, Arena (NHS public show)
30 July, Pikehall, Y Not Festival
7 August, Linlithgow, Party At The Palace
29 August, Alcester, Camper Calling Music Festival
10 September, Halifax, Live at Piece Hall
18 September, Jersey, Electric Park Festival

Stephen Stills on CSNY: “We were all quite full of ourselves”

With CSNY's Déjà Vu reissue on sale any day now, here's an expanded version of the interview with Stephen Stills that appears in the June 2021 issue of Uncut. “Déjà Vu had the most expensive album cover in the history of album covers,†Stills reveals to Peter Watts. “And that was all my fa...

With CSNY’s Déjà Vu reissue on sale any day now, here’s an expanded version of the interview with Stephen Stills that appears in the June 2021 issue of Uncut. “Déjà Vu had the most expensive album cover in the history of album covers,†Stills reveals to Peter Watts. “And that was all my fault!â€

Hi Stephen, are you doing?
I am just coming out of hibernation. I got my second shot yesterday and my hair didn’t fall out so I’m still in the game. It’s been like an extended sabbatical. The initial stress lifted gradually as I realised I was comfortable and I had a good safe house, and I just switched off. It was great actually, I got a bit of perspective on things. I live in the middle of LA in the Hollywood Hills between Sunset and Ventura, a bit over from Laurel Canyon. I like it here.

How are things in the US?
It all went nuts over here for a while. I hope you guys are doing well over there. Being English, you have a bit more discipline. I lived in London and then I bought a house in Surrey and I loved it. You do rather well with your eccentrics. You let people live. It’s true, right back to the Chelsea Arts Club.

Have you been making any music in hibernation?
I have got a working arrangement with my bass player, Kevin McCormick, and we have been plonking out a few songs. I’ve been recording because I have everything I had in the 70s in the studio right here in my house.

Enough for an album?
No, the older you get the slower the come. But eventually. Right now it is pretty raw. The vocals are good and the playing is good for the most part, though there have been instances where I get to the solo and I completely forget how to play the guitar. It’s frightening actually. So I probably have about six, nearly an album, we’ll see. I had to stop myself because they were all starting to sound like limericks, talking blues and all topical and all concerning King Me – Trump. I had to wait for that to die down. But I need to get some distance on it. When I am ready I will put them down but I have to make sure the lyric police shows up. It’s like there’s the vomit draft and then you get some discipline and try to clean it up. Sometimes they fall out fully formed but quite often there’s a bit of a rewrite.

Has the Déjà Vu reissue brought back a lot of memories?
I was just reading some of the press from back then and it was a lot of bollocks. We had all come to think quite a lot of ourselves. The bless of fame was wearing off. Some people get famous and the more famous they get the smarter they think they are and they know everything about everything – that was rampant among us, but judging by what I’ve been reading in the press of the time everybody was doing a great job of covering up just how prickly it was. We talked everything to death and that would take hours. It was the adjustment to working with Neil. For myself, I was already in the process of moving and had one foot in Europe. I was ready to make an escape to find new mates to pal around with, to discover England – freshly mowed grass and lager and guineas and all the usual stuff. That was great and a tremendous load off my mind.

How did Neil change the dynamic?
Neil was one of those who wanted us to sing it and play it at the same time and be done, and the first time you get it right – that’s the take. I like a bit more polish so I’m not actually that fond of these extra tracks in the reissue. I was thinking about this last night and for me it’s like seeing the mannequins undressed in the shop window. Why do you want to put these out there even though they sound great?

Isn’t there a raw honesty to them?
Yeah, if you say so. For me it sounds like we’d just got the words correctly in the right order. Some of it is good. It was odd. I had a knee replacement last year so I was flat on my back while these were being collected and a bit distracted. They sent me MP3 files that sounded like rancid shit, the worst car radio on an AM setting. That was very hard for me to listen so I didn’t realise they had taken such a deep dive into my vault. They went on this excursion, it was like this archaeological dig, so when the final set finally turned up I was, “Wait, what’s all this?†Neil has always been the smartest one of us, he gave us three songs and kept the rest. He’s now put together his own archive over the years, and I found that quite clever actually. It’s what I was supposed to be doing but with one thing or another it went out the way. So I have mixed feelings. I’ve often got my foot stuck in my mouth so I don’t want to make too much of it. But it’s nice to remember that time and this is very reflective of it.

Fans seem to always want more.
Well, they think they do.

Neil seems to release everything.
He releases everything in huge batches. I always thought it was excessive but he seems to do it very well. I’m happy for him and look forward to be playing with him now I am free to mix and mingle.

You were all writing so many songs in this era.
I know. It was a ridiculous amount. I don’t recall much argument about which tracks we agreed to use on Déjà Vu. I basically chose to absent myself until they made up my mind, but I knew which ones of mine I wanted to use and I couldn’t control anything else. The secret was to get the best ones and then stop.

Did you ever discuss making it a double album?
I don’t think we discussed making Déjà Vu a double. I think everybody had one foot in their solo project. I was planning mine and it turned out great because I could quickly differentiate between what was CSNY and what was solo. A lot of the stuff that’s on this record was recorded in the UK, and that’s where I recorded my first and part of my second solo albums.

How do you differentiate between solo and CSNY?
Well, it’s if it warrants harmony. Simple as that. It was e-harmony.com that brought us together.

Do any of the songs bring back particular memories?
When we first arrived in San Francisco, we went down to Wally Heider’s in the Tenderloin which is sort of like your East End. Graham and I quickly realised we didn’t have an opener, so we had this intense conversation. We were staying in this horrid motel and that’s where the lightning struck and I wrote “Carry Onâ€. I played that for Graham the next day and said “Will that do?†and he was very happy. We were quite keen at the beginning of these sessions but then it seemed to drag on and on.

That song has an amazing harmony – did you write that?
I didn’t particularly know it was going to be those particular notes. That’s what we relied on Crosby for. He always came up with that stuff. As an aside, I am really happy that he got If I Could Only Remember My Name re-released because that is a great album.

You were all about to record great solo albums – were you holding stuff back from CSNY?
Not that I necessarily recall. There were things in pieces and you’d think, well that sounds more like a solo bit. It was logical choices like that rather than gaming it.

Did Neil offer you anything that appeared on After The Goldrush?
I’m not sure. I don’t recall him offering anything from that album which we turned down. Not that I recall, anyway. I’m not being evasive, this was 50 years ago and in the clouds of time….

Absolutely. Give me an idea of the working relationships.
For “Déjà Vuâ€, David insisted he could make the transition from the beginning into the really slow dirgy part, but we said just get the right one and we’ll cut it together. He kept trying and 100 takes later or something absurd, we finally heard one that worked after we’d basically exhausted him. It was close to right, but we’d heard the perfect first part a couple of takes before and the second part he’d just recorded picked up nicely, so we said, “That was great David, go home.†The minute he left the building we took it apart with razor blades and cut it together. The next day we said, “Do you like your car, we had it painted?†He surrendered once he heard it but there was a tension-filled few hours there.

What do you remember of your own out-takes that feature here?
There’s one track on here that everybody says I played all the parts, but it sounds to me like it’s all of us together. That’s the song “Ivory Towerâ€. It was eventually released under a different name with Manassas. I recorded it four or five times, this is the second one. Then I stepped back and thought the lyrics were kind of mean so I lightened up again and released it under the title “Little Miss Bright Eyesâ€. That song was originally about all of us. We were all quite full of ourselves and it was that teenage angst at almost 30.

David had lost Christine [Hinton] at this point – what do you remember about that?
He put all the energy into making the record but he was grieving mightily.

Would you have treated David differently now?
Shoulda woulda coulda – I dunno. I don’t think like that.

Was Joni Mitchell ever around during the sessions?
Joni wasn’t around but we cut “Woodstockâ€. I went and played her my arrangement and asked for her permission. We were isolating ourselves in the tradition of all self-indulgent rock bands, lock the door so we could do whatever the fuck we wanted. I played her my version of “Woodstock†and years later I regret not using more of her really good strange notes. I made the melody a little straighter and in retrospect I wonder… I played on Blue not long after this. I played any time she asked me. Some were used, some were forgotten but I didn’t care, it was Joan. What do I remember of Blue? Not a lot. Everything was moving very fast, so the minute I had a spare couple of weeks I was over recording with her. I’d come in, figure it out and when I got the thumbs up I was gone until the next time.

I’ve always loved “4+20†– it’s such a strange song.
“4+20†captured that mood and juvenile thought and laid it to rest immediately upon singing it. I like the take I did with the catch in my voice best of all but we did a second one for reasons unknown and then put both on here. I like the original best, the one with the catch. What do I like about it? I like I have a catch in my voice. It sounds like what it should be, a first take and very passionate, getting straight into that mood and then quickly extracting myself. We all liked that one but they made me do it again just in case 50 years later they wanted to cobble together a loosely associated amalgam of all the out-takes as a last gasp before the frigging copyright ran out. At this point, you have to laugh.

What was Neil’s contribution beyond his own two songs?
Neil played on “Woodstock†but fuck if I remember. It was that time, everything was going on. Neil was pretty hard to catch, but he’s still my best mate. We still have that ferocious thing we do when we play together but we never left any room for it on the records. We saved that for live, when we can play right over the top of each other so it starts chording and stuff. I haven’t done that for a while but we have this Light Up The Blues thing planned, that’s my wife charity for autism. We were going to do it live but we are going to do a Zoom cast, I guess. We’ve had to reinvent the wheel, but if the Democratic National Convention or the Colbert Show can do it, then it should be all right.

Are you talking to Graham and David?
I’ve talked to David and as I said I’m glad he got that album out because I’ve always thought that album was the bollocks. I haven’t spoken to Graham for ages. The proof is in the pudding. What’s the difference? I don’t care anymore. It was a long time ago. I had a good time, then I didn’t. We had our big stadium tour, that was fine and we kept going. The last tour we did of Europe was just the most fun. David and Graham were at each other’s throats, but I had a great time. Everybody was looking at me saying, “Oh, my God. Who knew? You turned out to be the sane one.â€

Do you have plans to tour?
The last tour I did with Judy Collins about two years ago, I knew when I got off the bus I was so beat up I had a feeling that would be it for a while. Then I got my knee replaced and then the Pandemic hit. So I have basically been a lazy dog for quite a long time and I kind of like it. The road – I loved playing, but the travel with all these nagging injuries you get at this age? I dunno, I paid my dues.

Tell me something about Déjà Vu you’ve never told anyone.
Well, it had the most expensive album cover in the history of album covers and that was all my fault. Because I thought of that concept of the old picture and the old photo album and then the art director took it and made it perfect. Ahmet [Ertegun] never let me forget about it. He changed it back to a photo of the mock-up as quickly as they could. Couldn’t Atlantic afford it? Tell them that! I’m still trying to find out if they double billed for the sessions. I’m biting the hand that feeds, so I’d better stop before I talk myself into too much trouble.

Watch a video for Rodney Crowell’s new single, “Something Has To Change”

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Outlaw country stalwart Rodney Crowell has announced that his new album Triage will be released own his own label RC1 through Thirty Tigers on July 23. Watch a video for lead single "Something Has To Change" below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gP3pu7e_xz8 Triage producer Dan Kobler recou...

Outlaw country stalwart Rodney Crowell has announced that his new album Triage will be released own his own label RC1 through Thirty Tigers on July 23.

Watch a video for lead single “Something Has To Change” below:

Triage producer Dan Kobler recounts the process of making the album: “On December 1st, 2019 Rodney and I began to work on a group of new songs. In fits and starts, the process of refinement, reconstruction, and realization took us through the new year and into this new era of isolation.

“Seven out of ten songs started with a band in a room at my studio, Goosehead Palace. With Rodney on an assortment of vintage Gibson acoustic guitars, one crew consisted of Steuart Smith (guitar), Larry Klein (bass), and John Jarvis (piano) – the other Audley Freed (guitar) and Lex Price (bass) – both anchored by Jerry Roe (drums). Later, Jen Gunderman and Kai Welch came in and coaxed sounds out of analog keyboards; Rory Hoffman played harmonica; Eamon McLoughlin and David Henry fashioned a string section out of a fiddle and cello; I added guitars and synths and organs; Wendy Moten, Tanya Hancheroff, Ruth Moody and John Paul White lent their singular voices in harmony.

“When the pandemic set in, some version of the record was near completion. But with Rodney’s tour schedule wiped clean, he found himself quarantined with his wife, Claudia, two dogs, and a pen and paper. More songs presented themselves. Old songs were discarded. New and improved verses came more clearly into view. Masked up, he returned to the studio to re-record new lyrics and lay down the framework for three more songs. Two were sent around to various friends for remote collaboration: Greg Morrow, Joe Robinson, Michael Rhodes, Kai Welch, Kris Donegan, Catherine Marx, Craig Young and Ray Mason; the third was sent to its co-writer John Leventhal who built a world of acoustic instruments and familial voices.”

“Not a moment of this album is unconsidered. Time and time again the question was asked: does each word, each note, every instrument and sonic choice serve its song? Is each song in service of the spirit of Universal Love? If not, it had to go. The result is a piece of work both Rodney and I take immense pride in.â€

Check out Rodney Crowell’s tourdates for the rest of 2021 below:

May 27 in Savannah, GA @ Savannah Music Festival – SOLD OUT
July 27 in Baton Rouge, LA @ Manship Theatre?
July 29 in Houston, TX @ The Heights Theater
July 30 in Austin, TX @ The 04 Center
July 31 in Dallas, TX @ The Kessler Theater
August 19 in Atlanta, GA @ City Winery
August 20 in Decatur, AL @ Princess Theatre Center For The Performing Arts
August 21 in Oak Ridge, TN @ A.K. Bissell Par
August 22 in Charleston, WV @ Mountain Stage at The Culture Center Theater
September 10&11 in Gstaad, Switzerland @ Country Night Music Festival
October 8 in Boothbay Harbor, ME @ Opera House
October 9 in Brownfield, ME @ Stone Mountain Arts Center
October 10 in Boston, MA @ City Winery
October 12 in Fall River, MA @ Narrows Center for the Arts
October 14 in New York, NY @ City Winery
October 15 in Philadelphia, PA @ City Winery
October 16 in Vienna, VA @ Wolf Trap
October 17 in Hopewell, VA @ The Beacon Theatre
October 27&28 in Franklin, TN @ Franklin Theatre
November 6 in Menomonie, WI @ Mabel Tainter Center for the Arts
November 10 in Stoughton, WI @ Opera House SOLD OUT
November 11 in Chicago, IL @ City Winery
November 12 in Grand Rapids, MI @ St. Cecilia Music Center

How Bob Dylan made Blood On The Tracks

This oral history of the Blood On The Tracks sessions that first appeared in Uncut's November 2018 issue. As More Blood, More Tracks plots a revelatory path through the making of Blood On The Tracks (The Bootleg Series, Vol 14), Nick Hasted talks to Dylan’s key collaborators from both the albumâ€...

This oral history of the Blood On The Tracks sessions that first appeared in Uncut’s November 2018 issue.

As More Blood, More Tracks plots a revelatory path through the making of Blood On The Tracks (The Bootleg Series, Vol 14), Nick Hasted talks to Dylan’s key collaborators from both the album’s New York and Minneapolis sessions. A picture emerges of the artist at his most creatively restless…

New York

DAY 1: 
SEPTEMBER 16, 1974

Sessions begin at A&R Recording Studios, 799 7th Avenue in the early afternoon. At first, it is just Dylan and engineer Phil Ramone – accompanied by Ramone’s assistant, Glenn Berger. Later in the evening, a band is convened…

GLENN BERGER [assistant engineer]: I was 19 in September 1974, working for Phil Ramone as an assistant engineer at a time when multi-track recording was making production central to the artistic venture. My first session had been with Paul Simon, who could take 
a year to make a record. And then Dylan came in and appeared not to care about the production at all. He didn’t care who the musicians were. There was no producer. Phil was just the engineer. It was mind-boggling. He asked Phil to put a band together, and Phil bumped into Eric Weissberg, a great musician who played on a lot of folk records, as well as “Duelling Banjos†from 
the Deliverance soundtrack. 
Eric brought in his band. These musicians were absolutely psyched to work on the new Dylan album.

THOMAS McFAUL [keyboards]: 
I held Dylan in high regard as an artist then and now. Playing on a Dylan date was a big deal.

BERGER: There was a special feeling about it because Dylan was coming back to Columbia, and to 
the studio where he’d recorded his earliest stuff. John Hammond [who signed Dylan to Columbia in 1961] came into the control room, thrilled to be there. But Dylan didn’t interact much with anybody, except [Columbia executive] Ellen Bernstein, who was his protector. We were warned that we needed to protect his privacy. 
Phil made a special point that nobody was to talk to him. You know, the faultiness of memory is weird. I don’t remember him coming in solo before bringing in the band. I was really shocked to find that out. If Dylan had started out intending to make a folk-style record, and then brought in the band and thought, “It’s not going to work and I just won’t do it,†it would certainly explain a lot. But it didn’t appear that calculated.

McFAUL: Dylan was already at A&R when I arrived. He was cordial at the outset, asked us if we wanted to go on the road with him, said he wanted to play only prisons. Before we started recording, Dylan was sipping grain alcohol from a paper cup, but I don’t recall him ever seeming to be intoxicated.

BERGER: Richard Crooks [drums] was in 
the vocal booth. Dylan came onto the studio floor with the musicians and started running down a tune. 
If a singer-songwriter doesn’t have 
an arranger, 
the musicians will take two 
or three hours minimum learning the tune and coming up with arrangements. We never got to that point. Dylan would just start playing another new tune without telling anybody. We were racing to keep up.

McFAUL: I don’t remember him saying much at all about the music. Sometimes he would ask to roll 
tape before running the song down all the way through even once. 
He’d say something like, “Then there’s a bridge; it’s like any other bridge, you’ll get it.â€

BERGER: Phil’s approach was to make the technology as transparent as possible, so Dylan would never even know that he was in a recording studio.

McFAUL: There was no guidance at all from Phil Ramone, and Dylan’s approach was more like a concert performance than a recording session. He would ‘perform’ the song and if he didn’t like it, he would stop and say, “We don’t like that, erase it.†Dylan used the royal “weâ€.

BERGER: So Dylan is playing, and everyone is aware of the clacking of his buttons on the guitar. Phil was afraid to hit the talkback and tell him. Nobody dared counter what 
he was doing.

McFAUL: The big problem was 
the cue [the music audible in the headphones] and the isolation. The cue was all Dylan, none of the other instruments. My Hammond B3 organ was way in the back of the studio. I could not hear myself at 
all, nor could I hear any of the other players apart from Dylan. The setup was ridiculous, actually. How can you make a contribution as a band when you cannot hear one another? At first we complained to Phil, but Phil never changed anything. Later on, I concluded that his concern was to get as much of Dylan on tape as possible. It mattered less what we played. He isolated our instruments as much as possible to avoid leakage into Dylan’s vocal and guitar mics.

BERGER: He’s cutting “Idiot Windâ€, and just spitting this mean, angry, hurtful song, and it’s so incredibly intense and vulnerable and real. And then he turns to us in the control room and says, “Was that sincere enough?†I think it was such an intense emotion that he had to make some distance from it, by making that funny remark.

McFAUL: I remember the lyric 
of “Idiot Wind†was about fame, 
and how fame is isolating, with no one telling you the truth any more. 
I was thinking how ironic that was because that was exactly what was going on at the session – no one told Bob what they were feeling.

BERGER: The band is figuring out their parts, and if somebody hits a wrong note, Dylan tells them to stop playing. Then two or three takes later, he starts playing a different song without telling anybody, so of course the guys screw up, and drop out. The energy in the studio went from incredible excitement to shock and disappointment. He essentially fired the band, without giving them a chance to do anything. Tony Brown, the bass player, was the 
only one who remained.

DAY 2: 
SEPTEMBER 17, 1974

Without the band, Dylan presses on with bassist Tony Brown. They are joined, briefly, by Paul Griffin (keyboards) and Buddy Cage (steel guitar)…

BERGER: There was no record with the band, really. It was the stuff with Tony Brown and Dylan that was powerful and compelling. We had adapted in the control room to the way things were going down. We weren’t taking the time to scrutinise takes. We were just cutting one 
song after another. It was an unconscious approach.

TONY BROWN [bass]: What made it doubly difficult for me was that Dylan had his guitar in an open tuning, yet he was fingering chords on top of that tuning. So it was virtually impossible to read the chords unless you knew the tuning, which I didn’t! However, it gave his guitar a distinctive sound, which can best be heard on the New York version of “Tangled Up In Blueâ€.

BERGER: Tony was just staring at Dylan’s hands, trying to figure out the next chord and keep up. There was no warmth or camaraderie. That may have contributed to the intensity of the experience, that those were not happy sessions. Certainly with the record’s content and Dylan’s marriage breakdown, there were a lot of dark feelings in the room. Bob didn’t know the 
guys from the band, he didn’t ask for them. But Paul Griffin was his idea. He was an older, straight-ahead jazz guy. He came in with a big smile on his face, and there 
was no direction, consistent with everything else. It didn’t work, 
and he walked out with the smile still on his face.

DAY 3: 
SEPTEMBER 18, 1974

The shortest day of the sessions – just four versions of “Buckets Of Rain†are recorded…

BERGER: Maybe ‘savant’ was the right word for Dylan in the studio. He was so focused in terms of his performance, but very disconnected on a human level. He didn’t know who was in the room with him. 
He was in his own universe. The electricity was when he was performing. As soon as he opened his mouth, the intensity was 
mind-boggling, and he would change the verses spontaneously from one take to the next. It appeared me that he was channelling something from a universal source. I’ve worked 
with a lot of great artists including Sinatra, and Dylan was the only 
one who appeared genius-like. Something was flowing through him. Maybe when he’s not performing, he’s turned off. 
When the switch turns on, it’s all magical power.

DAY 4: 
SEPTEMBER 19, 1974

The final day of the New York sessions. Dylan and Brown find their stride. An unexpected visitor is rebuffed…

BERGER: During the day, we were mixing the Stones’ Bedspring Symphony, a live show from their ’74 European Tour for radio broadcast, and Jagger wanted to come over. Mick Jagger was the most charming, affable guy. He could charm one person or 50,000 in a stadium. But their meeting – and I think they’d met once or twice before that – fell flat. We talked about it afterwards and Jagger said, “We could have hung out together and had fun.†And they didn’t. Dylan just wasn’t really available for that.
Dylan didn’t come to the mix sessions. That was unheard of. 
Phil and I mixed the record in a couple of nights, then we cut 
the test pressings. And we thought it was done. But Dylan now became quite concerned. He’d ring us at the studio. And I’d hear Phil going, ‘No, Bob, really, this is one of your best ever!’ But then he would call again. He was very anxious about the quality of the thing. Then Phil 
came in with a blanched look on his face and said that Dylan had re-recorded the album…

MINNEAPOLIS

DAY 1: 
DECEMBER 27, 1974

Staying with family over Christmas, Dylan worries over what he perceives as the album’s flaws. Finally, his brother David and his managerial protégé, local singer-songwriter Kevin Odegard, put together a band to re-record five songs at the city’s Sound 80 Studio…

KEVIN ODEGARD [guitar]: I’d first met Bob when I did demos for him a year or so before that. We were all from northern Minnesota. Bill Berg [drums] was from Hibbing like Bob, so the connection got even stronger. The vibe was very different in our room than it was in New York. He wasn’t the movie star with us. He was a Minnesota kid.

GREGG INHOFER [keyboards]: Kevin said, “Do you wanna do a session?†He couldn’t tell me what for. I had no idea it was Dylan.

CHRIS WEBER [guitar]: I wasn’t hired as a guitarist; I weaselled my way in. I was a singer-songwriter, but was now mainly running the Podium music store. Kevin calls me there asking about a Martin guitar, and I had a 1937 0042G. He wouldn’t say who it was for, but I was told 
to bring it to his apartment. After waiting 30 minutes, we drove to Sound 80. It was cloak and dagger.

ODEGARD: Studio 80 is an L-shaped room, with reflective surfaces everywhere, and a 
vocal booth surrounded by glass. Everything was much more state of the art than A&R. The sessions were mercifully short, and Bob cut to the chase. He knew what he wanted.

WEBER: It’s still a pretty big room, maybe half a basketball court. Everyone could see and hear each other. In my memory, Bob was wearing blue jeans, leather boots because it was 20 below outside, dark, comfortable clothes, and was smoking non-stop. He asks to see the Martin. The studio was noisy, so I said we could go in the vocal booth. We sit down knees to knees in this silent, tiny place, and my heart’s jumping out of my chest. He’s friendly and droll, and says, “Play that guitar for me.†Then he says, “I’m going to teach you a song.†He showed me the chord progression of “Idiot Windâ€. It’s an odd change, a C minor to a D chord. When I replayed it for him, I changed a chord, from A minor to A minor seventh. He said, “Teach it to ’em that way.â€

ODEGARD: Chris Weber told us what key things were in and got us to the first take. Bob would take us the rest of the way.

WEBER: Bob would smoke 20 cigarettes while I taught the band, then we’d record it. That became the pattern. Then he tells me, “I need you to play guitar.†It turned out he’d been auditioning me.

ODEGARD: Bob was reticent, shy. Doing a lot of scratching on little pink notes, updating lyrics. When he was sitting there silent, looking into himself, that was Bob finishing up these songs. That’s called songwriting behaviour.

INHOFER: Bob’s son Jakob was there. Someone went across to a bar to get some milk for him.

ODEGARD: The songs were startling. Especially the first thing we heard, “Idiot Windâ€, which was dissonant and not pleasant. That first C minor chord was very strange. We didn’t necessarily know what to do. We kind of looked at each other. 
I was thinking, “I’m lucky I wasn’t asked to play on this, because it’s too complex for me.†He was getting comfortable, too. He started softly. All of a sudden it was take 7 or 8, 
and it started to take on aspects of Highway 61 Revisited. The organ 
that Bob overdubbed ran it into that realm. It took on the personality of those angry ’65, ’66 songs.

INHOFER: Bob wanted me to play this slidey growl on the Hammond, and I did not play a lot of Hammond then, and didn’t know how to do what he wanted. So he played organ on the overdub as I played piano.

ODEGARD: Nothing really went too long after “Idiot Windâ€. Two or three takes and that was it. Bob and Bill Berg carried the rest of that session. Bill was a highly trained drummer, who’d been in a Navy marching band. He was a people-pleaser, and was there to make Bob happy. So anytime Bob nodded or moved his body, Berg responded instantly. Their chemistry made the sessions in Minneapolis stick.

ODEGARD: Billy Peterson had 
to leave at 8.30 for his jazz gig downtown at the Longhorn Club. We did one more song, “You’re 
A Big Girl Nowâ€. Bob overdubbed flamenco guitar, and we closed up shop for the night thinking that was it, and I had not played a note. We looked at each other in disbelief, and went back to our lives. I was a railroad brakeman at the time, and ready to take a run down to Iowa when the phone rang again.

INFOFER: That weekend we got 
a call. “Bob wants you to come 
back in.â€

DAY 2: 
DECEMBER 30, 1974

The band are convened for a second day of sessions. “There was a new confidence, energy and trust,†we learn…

WEBER: It all came together. 
It just rolled.

INHOFER: Bob had written down the chords to “Tangled Up In Blue†on a bit of newspaper, threw it down on my organ and said, “Here’s the next song.â€

ODEGARD: There was no tension, urgency or immediacy to it. It was just another Bob Dylan song. And because by that point everyone was comfortable, I was able to advise Bob to move the song up from the key of G to A. I thought if he had to work and reach for those notes, he’d sound more like Highway 61. That was in the back of my mind. Four 
or five measures into the tune, Bob knew it was going to work. He said, “Let’s try it this way.â€

INHOFER: When Bob first started showing us the song, it sounded tired and dark. When the key was up, the tempo picked up, the mood brightened, and I think he liked the challenge, because that was some of the best Bob Dylan vocal stuff I’ve ever heard. And he had a cold.

ODEGARD: I was sitting five feet from Bob Dylan singing “Tangled Up In Blue†in one take. It was the most perfect six minutes of my life. Bob was giving me cues. And he was listening to me. He paid attention 
to everybody. He had the genius ability to take it all in, and put out 
a superhuman amount of creative energy all at once.

WEBER: Most of the guitar you 
hear is my Guild 512 12-string, which is a jumbo-bodied cannon, with enormous tone and a sound like an organ. Then Bob grabs the Martin and starts “Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Heartsâ€.

INHOFER: I lost concentration on that a couple of times because of how simple it was musically; you can hear a wrong chord here and there on the record. It’s really long, and it was hard to follow the story.

WEBER: My friend Peter Ostroushko arrived with his mandolin. Bob said, “Can you play 
a butterfly [arpeggio] sound?†Peter said, “The fret gets really narrow high up there.†So Bob mostly played it on “If You See Her, Say Helloâ€. I overdubbed the 12-string, and we were finished. When I got the Martin guitar back, it looked like it had been through a hurricane, with long scratches from Bob’s nails.

INHOFER: Did he say thank you 
at the end? Who, Bob? I saw him a couple of months after the sessions, watching the Stray Cats at a local club. I walked over and said, “Hey, Bob, I’m Gregg, I played on Blood On The Tracks with you.†And he just looked round and said, “Yeah…†Then he went back to watching the Stray Cats. I guess I didn’t make that much of an impression!

ODEGARD: What’s really amazing is, given the different temperament of the sessions, you can play Blood On The Tracks through and it 
works seamlessly.

INHOFER: The New York sessions were a lot darker. New York seems 
to me, “Here I am in despair of a breakup.†Minneapolis was, “I just broke up, but I’m going to move on.†I think there was more warmth for him in Minnesota in general.

BERGER: Most of the New York musicians ended up not on the record, and the Minneapolis guys were never credited on it. So there were a lot of unhappy people. I’m 
a psychiatrist and have analysed what makes artists great, and part 
of it is shamelessness – not to care about how you treat people, to get what you’re looking for. Sometimes it works. Dylan’s walking on the tightrope, and we’re not.

Bob Dylan – Rough And Rowdy Ways

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Prepare for Bob Dylan’s Rough And Rowdy Ways Tour arriving in the UK this week with Richard Williams' definitive review of Dylan's most recent studio album, Rough And Rowdy Ways... ORDER NOW: Bob Dylan is on the cover of the latest issue of Uncut In his 2016 Nobel Prize lecture – wh...

Prepare for Bob Dylan’s Rough And Rowdy Ways Tour arriving in the UK this week with Richard Williams’ definitive review of Dylan’s most recent studio album, Rough And Rowdy Ways…

Bob Dylan

In his 2016 Nobel Prize lecture – which he did not deliver in person but eventually published as a recording, with piano accompaniment, and a short book – Bob Dylan began with a memory of how seeing Buddy Holly in person and being given a Lead Belly record changed his life. But then he went on to talk about the books he read in school that had made the deepest and most enduring impact on him: Moby-Dick, All Quiet On The Western Front and The Odyssey. He closed his speech with Robert Fitzgerald’s 1961 translation of Homer’s opening invocation: “Sing in me, O Muse, and through me tell the story.â€

This was four years after Dylan had released Tempest, his last album of original material, and while he was in the middle of recording 50-odd songs from what is now generally referred to as the American songbook: the show tunes of Harold Arlen, Irving Berlin, George Gershwin, Jerome Kern and so on. Released between 2015 and 2017 as Shadows In The Night, Fallen Angels and the three-disc Triplicate, they received a mixed reception, many turning up their noses at what appeared to be a misguided project, and certainly an overextended one. In the first place, why would Dylan attempt to perform pieces already rendered definitively by others (e.g. Frank Sinatra) when the earliest and most influential phase of his own career had amounted an organized assault on the values represented by those songs, with their moon-and-June lyrics and their neat 32-bar AABA structures?

Gradually it became apparent that Dylan might have been up to something all along, just as he had been when he recorded the Basement Tapes in the ’60s and a couple of solo albums of blues and folk songs, Good As I Been To You and World Gone Wrong, in the early ’90s, using them as co-ordinates with which to realign his musical SatNav. You can’t take liberties with Tin Pan Alley songs like “Stormy Weather†or “My One and Only Loveâ€. You sing their finely wrought chromatic melodies as well as you possibly can, while allowing the lyrics to speak clearly; otherwise, don’t bother. And that is what, despite the effects of time on his vocal range, he did. So anyone who saw his concerts during this period – at the Albert Hall in October 2015, for instance – had to be struck by the way his attitude to his own songs had changed.

Listeners were no longer invited to spend the first minute of a song teasing out the clues to “Blowin’ In The Wind†or “She Belongs To Meâ€. This seemed a good thing. The technical exercise involved in phrasing the lines of the standard tunes – the sort of challenge for which Sinatra swam underwater in order to improve his breath control – must have appealed to Dylan, whose gift for shaping the cadence and internal rhythms of long lines, even when completely ignoring the melody, has always been just about his most unfairly overlooked expressive talent.

What is also perhaps underappreciated is the appeal of his speaking voice. The 101 programmes of his Theme Time Radio Hour series showed us (and perhaps him) what a wonderfully expressive reader he can be. It became hard to imagine a book of any sort that wouldn’t be improved by Dylan recording its audio edition. And that, too, has a very practical application to his new collection, in which his lyrics are spoken as much as they are sung.

As the three albums of standards made their appearance, it was also clear that his regular band of musicians were achieving a new synthesis, something much subtler than before. The new sound was softer, gentler, more fluid, carefully adapted to provide a cushion for Dylan’s ageing voice. His decision to do without the cabaret cushioning of a piano was crucial to its success. Instead there were strings of several kinds: violin, double bass, acoustic guitar, steel guitar, all blending into a flow that owed less to Nelson Riddle than to Western Swing and the Hot Club de France. It may have lacked turbulence but was never devoid of an inner energy and direction.

What he was also doing, or so it seems now, was waiting for inspiration. In the Nobel lecture, his discussion of The Odyssey is particularly animated. Homer’s poem is, he says, “a strange, adventurous tale of a grown man trying to get home after fighting in a war. He’s on that long journey home, and it’s filled with traps and pitfalls.†After describing some of them, he continues: “It’s a hard road to travel… some of these same things have happened to you. You too have had drugs dropped into your wine. You too have shared a bed with the wrong woman. You too have been spellbound by magical voices, sweet voices with strange melodies. You too have come so far and have been so far blown back. And you’ve had close calls as well. You have angered people you should not have. And you too have rambled this country all around. And you’ve also felt that ill wind, the wind that blows you no good. And that’s still not all of it.â€

Maybe The Odyssey was pushing itself to the forefront of Dylan’s mind just as he began to consider the possibility of writing and recording a new album of original songs. Perhaps, in the interim, he had also read Emily Wilson’s radical new translation, in which the opening lines are rendered: “Tell me about a complicated man. Muse, tell me how he wandered and was lost…â€

The evidence is there, if you want to look for it, that the myths and legends of the ancient world – and of Homer in particular – formed a significant part of the library of material consulted by Dylan while he was assembling the 10 new songs making up Rough And Rowdy Ways. There’s a song called “Mother Of Musesâ€, for a start: the title refers to Mnemosyne, the daughter of Uranus, the god of the sky, and Gaia, the mother of the earth. Mnemosyne slept nine nights in a row with Zeus in order to give birth to the nine muses, among them Calliope, the muse of epic poetry. “I’m falling in love with Calliope,†Dylan sings. “She doesn’t belong to anyone, why not give her to me?â€

Mnemosyne’s name, derived from the Ancient Greek word for “memory†or “remembranceâ€, was also given to one of the five rivers of the underworld. The dead drank from Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, in order to erase all remembrance of past lives before being reincarnated. To drink instead from Mnemosyne, the river of memory, was to be granted the opposite and achieve omniscience.

Perhaps only the omniscient have a licence to put together songs in the way Dylan does, creating mosaics from fragments of the past and investing the result with fresh meaning through force of personality and poetic vision. Joni Mitchell, for one, has been dismissive of his reliance on adapting other people’s work in what kinder judges call “the folk processâ€, but when the result is as powerful as Rough And Rowdy Ways, the method seems more like a kind of justifiable artistic alchemy.

All of it comes together in an album named after a Jimmie Rodgers song (“My Rough And Rowdy Waysâ€, 1929) and containing song titles lifted from Walt Whitman (“I Contain Multitudesâ€), William Burroughs (“Black Riderâ€) and Shakespeare (“Murder Most Foulâ€), as well as a song (“False Prophetsâ€) borrowing its entire template from Billy “The Kid†Emerson’s “If Lovin’ Is Believin’â€, a 1954 B-side. Unlike T. S. Eliot, Dylan doesn’t provide footnotes. Spotting his allusions and joining them up is part of the fun. You’re entitled to punch the air if you recognise the line “Red Cadillac and a black moustache†as the title of a song by the rockabilly artist Warren Smith, which Dylan recorded for a Sun Records tribute album called Good Rockin’ Tonight in 2002. That’s up to you. But he doesn’t hide his references. A song built on the elements of Jimmy Reed’s style – a blues shuffle, its verses punctuated by single high harmonica notes, ending with a direct quote (“Can’t you hear me callin’ from down in Virginiaâ€) –is titled “Goodbye Jimmy Reedâ€.

That’s one of the tracks exploiting a roadhouse 1950s R&B style familiar, in particular, from Together Through Life, the predecessor of Tempest. It’s a style in which his musicians are steeped. Other songs exploit the lyric qualities of steel guitar and bowed double bass to create something different and more distinctive, a fluid and sympathetic accompaniment to Dylan’s current mode of vocal delivery, which veers from near-recitation to near-singing.

“I Contain Multitudesâ€, the opener, typifies the second approach. It slides in, free from tempo for its opening verses, slipping into a Django Reinhardt groove and out again a couple of times, but with everything moving at the deliberate pace set by his voice. As with all but one of the songs, the lyric is built on sequential couplets, every verse in this case ending with a line preceding a repetition of title: “I fuss with my hair and I fight blood feuds,†“I paint landscapes and I paint nudes,†“I play Beethoven’s sonata, Chopin’s preludes…†There are mentions of William Blake (namechecking “Songs of Experienceâ€) and Edgar Allan Poe (“Tell Tale Heartâ€), and a truly bizarre set of juxtapositions: “I’m just like Anne Frank, I’m like Indiana Jones / And them British bad boys, the Rolling Stones.†And still he can pluck your heartstrings: “Red Cadillac and a black moustache / Rings on my fingers that sparkle and flash / Tell me what’s next, what shall we do? / Half of my soul belongs to you.†Who could resist?

The tone is harsher and the voice more of a growl on “False Prophetâ€, a slow-rocking Elmore James groove with a valve-driven sound, harking back to the sort of calculated distortion Daniel Lanois brought to the production of Time Out of Mind in 1997: bruised, abraded, patinated, but now less self-consciously so. And more great piled-up couplets: “I’m the enemy of treason, the enemy of strife / I’m the enemy of the unlived, meaningless life / I ain’t no false prophet, I just know what I know / I go where only the lonely can go.†Whoever plays the bottleneck guitar does a fine job, particularly on the fade.

With “My Own Version Of You†we’re back in an strange reverie as reverbed guitars, pattering brushes and a stealthy swooping steel accompany a long recitative studded with cartoon absurdism – “I’ll take the Scarface Pacino and the Godfather Brando / Mix it up in a tank and get a robot commando / If I do it up right and get the head on straight / I’ll be saved by the creature that I create†– and artful phrasing. Listen as he delivers “I want to bring someone to life, turn back the years / Do it with laughter and do it with tearsâ€, compressing the first line and expanding the second to match it, adding a mock-suspenseful pause before the final word — he’s knows you’ve already guessed it, as you will guess the outcome of many of these couplets, although that’s not for the worse since they convey the naturalness of speech.

“I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give Myself To You†may be the most cumbersome title of his career, but the track also one of his loveliest creations. A Neapolitan mandolin and a half-hidden marimba conjure the image of a lone figure sitting in a waterside café on a warm evening, while male voices hum a four-note melody behind him: “I’m sitting on the terrace, lost in the stars / Listening to the sound of the sad guitars / I’ve been thinking it all over, and I’ve thought it all through / I’ve made up my mind to give myself to you.†There doesn’t seem to be any irony at work here. Maybe these are the lovers from “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Goâ€, 40 years on, still entangled in complex emotions and on the brink of a reunion. A simple, graceful guitar solo prefaces the final verse: “I’ve travelled from the mountain to the sea / I hope that the gods go easy with me / I knew you’d say yes, I’m sayin’ it too / I’ve made up my mind to give myself to you.â€

The subdued mood is dialed down a further notch for “Black Riderâ€: simple acoustic guitar and mandolin, just marking the chords, sometimes almost disappearing behind dream-like lyrics that sound as though they’re being written on water. Murmured to a rival or maybe to an alter ego, they contain perhaps the most surprising single word in Dylan’s entire recording career: “Black rider, black rider, hold it right there / The size of your cock will get you nowhere / I’ll suffer in silence, I’ll not make a sound / Maybe I’ll take the high moral ground…†The song drifts along until it just vanishes completely, like a pebble in a pond.

“Goodbye Jimmy Reed†does exactly what it says on the tin. A sluggish 12-bar shuffle, patterned on Reed’s “Honest I Do†or “Baby What You Want Me To Doâ€, with slapping drums, several rhythm guitars probably played by guys with names like Lefty and Earl, a strong lead, a walking bass, and a striking opener: “They threw everything at me, everything in the book / I had nothing to fight with but a butcher’s hook.†It ends on a squeezed high note from the mouth-harp as the endless boogie fades on down the road.

The unamplified delicacy returns with “Mother Of Musesâ€, a hymn-like song making stately progress against a bowed double bass, a muffled bass drum and a finger-picked gut-string guitar. As well as Mnemosyne – “Take me to the river, release your charms / Let me lay down a while in your sweet loving arms / Wake me, shake me, free me from sin / Make me invisible, like the wind†— Dylan addresses a host of spirits, somewhat surprisingly including World War Two generals Georgy Zhukov and George S. Patton, “who cleared a path for Presley to sing / Who guard the path for Martin Luther King / Who did what they did and then went on their way / Man, I could tell their stories all day.â€

“Crossing The Rubicon†seems like a settling of old scores and debts: a slow, plodding, pared-back sermon from the primitive church of the blues, evoking John Lee Hooker as his most darkly simmering: “I can feel the bones beneath my skin, and they’re trembling with age / I’ll make your wife a widow, she’ll never see old age.†Someone, anyway, is going to get cut with a crooked knife.

For “Key Westâ€, which at nine and a half minutes is the album’s second longest track, the atmosphere switches back to the gentle acoustic drift, with an accordion prominent in the sultry, drowsy mix. A story that begins in McKenley Hollow – a hiking trail in the Catskills, part of the Big Indian Wilderness, a half-hour drive from Woodstock – moves down to Key West, on the southern tip of Florida, where the Gulf of Mexico meets the Atlantic ocean and, as the song notes, Harry S. Truman established a southern White House. Hibiscus and bougainvillea are in bloom, a pirate radio station is sending inspiration from Luxembourg or possibly Budapest, and the singer is guarding against the threat of “bleeding heart disease†while musing on how he ended up here: “I was born on the wrong side of the railroad track / Like Ginsberg, Corso and Kerouac / Like Louis and Jimi and Buddy and all of the rest / Well, it might not be the thing to do / But I’m sticking with you through and through / Down in the flatlands, down in Key West.†The pirate radio signal comes and goes, unlike anything resembling winter weather. “Key West is fine and fair,†he sings. “If you’ve lost your mind, you’ll find it there.â€

And so we come to the bomb that dropped on the morning of March 27 this year. “Murder Most Foulâ€, at almost 17 minutes, is his longest recorded song, an epic conclusion to the album in the manner of “Desolation Rowâ€, “Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands†and “Highlandsâ€, except that this one is rooted in an specific event at a precise and pivotal moment in contemporary history. Described in a jigsaw of detail (the triple underpass, Dealey Plaza, the grassy knoll, Oswald and Ruby, Parkland Hospital, Love Field), the murder of John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963 takes its place amid a flood of references to films and songs and books, from Frank Capra’s It Happened One Night and Dorothy B. Hughes’s Ride the Pink Horse to all the records the singer implores the radio DJ Wolfman Jack to play: “Wake Up, Little Susieâ€, “Lucilleâ€, “Memphis in Juneâ€, Slim Harpo’s “Scratch My Backâ€, “Blue Skiesâ€, Oscar Peterson, Charlie Parker and “‘Love Me Or Leave Me’ †by the great Bud Powell†(which doesn’t actually exist).

On an album whose most ambitious songs are marked by the ebb and flow of slow and slow-medium tempos, on this one any sense of strict metre is abolished altogether. Piano, bowed bass, a viola (maybe a violin as well), drums and possibly a harmonium follow the chord changes together but play out of time, taking their rhythmic cues from the recitative, creating slowly rolling waves of sound that billow and recede. In a sense it’s closer to John Coltrane’s masterpiece “Alabamaâ€, a tempo-less elegy for the four black schoolgirls murdered by white supremacists in a church bombing two months before the Kennedy assassination, than to anything Dylan has tried before in all his decades-long exploration of folk music, rockabilly, county or R&B. He can still surprise us, this complicated man.

Inside Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue: “A floating ship of crazies!â€

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As part of our celebrations to mark Bob Dylan's 80th birthday, here's our oral history of the Rolling Thunder Revue that first appeared in Uncut's June 2019 issue. Welcome, then, to the Rolling Thunder Revue – 
Bob Dylan's colourful charabanc that wound its way across America during 1975 and ...

As part of our celebrations to mark Bob Dylan’s 80th birthday, here’s our oral history of the Rolling Thunder Revue that first appeared in Uncut’s June 2019 issue.

Welcome, then, to the Rolling Thunder Revue – 
Bob Dylan‘s colourful charabanc that wound its way across America during 1975 and 1976. Peter Watts talks to tour insiders and hears tall tales involving doppelgangers, Beat poets and mysterious shamen. “It was extraordinary,†recalls Joan Baez. “You just wanted to be there.â€

In 1974, Bob Dylan decided, not for the first time, he wanted to do something different – only he wasn’t entirely sure exactly what. After his successful comeback tour with The Band and the acclaim of Blood On The Tracks, he could have pursued a lucrative, conventional touring model. Instead, he envisaged “something like 
a circus,†he explained to his friend Roger McGuinn. From such a loose idea, however, emerged something entirely unique: a free-wheeling, multi-artist caravan – the Rolling Thunder Revue – that began in October 1975 and finished up in May 1976.

The Rolling Thunder Revue was conceived in the folk venues of Greenwich Village and took Dylan and friends around the small towns of New England and Canada. Liberated, Dylan wore hats, scarves and flowers and sometimes performed in masks or whiteface. Venues were town halls and civic centres, where the players often arrived 
with hardly any notice. Shows lasted four hours 
– sometimes two sets a day – and culminated in mass singalongs of “This Land Is Our Land†or “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Doorâ€.

The tour mixed old friends – McGuinn, Joan Baez, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, Bob Neuwirth – 
with new faces like bassist Rob Stoner, multi-instrumentalist David Mansfield, violinist Scarlet Rivera and singer Ronee Blakley. There were wild cards like Mick Ronson, Allen Ginsberg and T-Bone Burnett, guest appearances from Robbie Robertson, David Blue, Arlo Guthrie, Kinky Friedman, Gordon Lightfoot and Ronnie Hawkins. Joni Mitchell played one show in New Haven and enjoyed it so much, she joined the tour.

At the same time, Dylan was making Renaldo 
& Clara – with playwright Sam Shepard as the nominal screenwriter – shooting concert footage alongside largely improvised scenes like Dylan’s visit to Jack Kerouac’s grave with Ginsberg. The first leg culminated with a benefit show for imprisoned boxer Rubin “Hurricane†Carter at Madison Square Garden on December 8.

A second leg took place in spring 1976 but didn’t have the spirit that made Rolling Thunder such a blast for performers and audiences alike. “There was so much music on that tour,†recalls Larry “Ratso†Sloman, the Rolling Stone reporter who wrote a book about his experiences, On The Road With Bob Dylan. “Music in the hallways of the motels, in the motel rooms, in tour buses, in the dressing rooms, the hospitality suite. People were jamming all night and then poured into the bus for the next show.â€

“He wanted to do something different”

Ideas percolate over baseball in Malibu and in the Greenwich Village folk clubs

JOAN BAEZ: I knew it would be a great thing to do. My main memory is sitting in the audience every night to see Bob. The first leg was colourful and beautiful. There was a lot of insanity, and Bob filming it, and people I knew, and people I didn’t know, like a floating ship of crazies.

ROGER McGUINN: Bob came over to my house in Malibu one day. There was a basketball hoop over the carport and we played one and one. At one point, he said he wanted to do something different. If Bob says he wants to do something it could be, “Let’s all go to Marsâ€, something wild and crazy. He said, “I don’t know, something like a circus.†Then we went back to basketball. He won because he’s much better than I am.

LOUIE KEMP: I was a businessman in the commercial fish process in Alaska. Bob and I were friends since we were 11. We were hanging out in LA as he got ready to go on tour in ’74 with The Band. He asked me if I wanted to come. That gave me an insight into how the tour business worked. Eighteen months later we were in Minnesota. He had this idea for a tour, but the promoters kept discouraging him because it wasn’t commercial. He wanted to do something more down to earth that would be fun for the audiences and bands. He didn’t care if he made any money, he wanted to have fun, 
play some cool places like a musical gypsy caravan. Everybody told him it wouldn’t work, but I thought it was a great idea. He said do I want to produce it. I agreed.

RAMBLIN’ JACK ELLIOTT: I was playing in a club in Greenwich Village, The Other End or The Bitter End, they were always changing the name, and Bob showed up. Patti Smith sang solo, Bob sang a few songs and at the end, Bob said he was thinking of doing a little tour playing small halls with Joan Baez and would I be interested. I said count me in.

SCARLET RIVERA: I dropped out of Southern Illinois University and bought a one-way ticket to New York. 
I had an idea I was going to integrate the violin into contemporary music and fate made it happen. I was walking in the East Village with my violin case over 
my shoulder when a nondescript green car pulled alongside me. A guy that looked like Bob Dylan rolled down the window to ask, “Could I play that thing?†
I was about to cross the street when Dylan saw me. If 
I had crossed one minute before he’d never have seen 
me at all – although we connected in such a deep way, 
I think it was inevitable.

LARRY “RATSO†SLOMAN: I was in Gerde’s Folk City with Roger McGuinn. We heard Dylan was at The Other End, so we walked over. Dylan was at this big table at the back. He said, “Roger, come on the road with us, we are doing an incredible thing.†And he said I should come and write about it for Rolling Stone.

KEMP: We asked Barry Imhoff, Bill Graham’s ex-partner, to be tour director. We mapped out a tour of the north-eastern states but we didn’t tell the venues who the principal performers were, we just told them it was the Rolling Thunder Revue. Then we’d break the concerts a day before, so people would wake up and hear that Bob Dylan was in town. We didn’t tell the artists where we were going, either. We wanted it to be mysterious and fun for everybody.

ELLIOTT: We started in New England, then went up to Canada and then back to New York for the Night Of The Hurricane at the Garden.

SLOMAN: This was a way for Bob to get back to his roots and bring some of those people like Joan and Jack who were meaningful to his early career.

“The spirit was new…”

Rehearsals begin in October in New York’s SIR studio. The first night of the tour takes place at Plymouth’s tiny War Memorial Auditorium

ROB STONER: I was bandleader. Every night after rehearsal, I listened to cassettes and made notes about what could be improved. I realised we’d be under a microscope. This was Dylan’s new effort and everyone would compare us to The Band. A hard act to follow.

SLOMAN: They had a solid base – Howie Wyeth on drums, Rob Stoner on bass. They could play any sort of music. Then there was T-Bone Burnett and Steven Soles and Mick [Ronson] from Hull. 
I don’t know how Ronson happened, I think it was through Neuwirth. He was the nicest guy, sweet and unpretentious.

STONER: We had these figures from his past, but I was trying real hard to guard against it being a museum piece. I wanted it to sound like contemporary arena rock music du jour. Mick Ronson was a great element. He kept it from sounding too folky, and David Mansfield’s versatility was very important. 
I tried to arrange the tunes so they didn’t sound mouldy. Fortunately I had Howie Wyeth and also Luther Rix, both very versatile drummers.

BAEZ: This was fresh and way evolved from the coffee houses of the ’60s. The spirit and the music was new. 
It didn’t feel like the old days in the Village. It was important that it wasn’t trying to repeat the past. It was extraordinary and out of the ordinary and just crazy enough that you wanted to be there.

SLOMAN: The first night was at Plymouth’s tiny War Memorial Auditorium on October 30, 1975. They were staying at a hotel that was hosting a Jewish women’s retreat. They played some songs and Ginsberg did a reading for a crowd of blue-haired elderly Jewish women.

ELLIOTT: They didn’t understand what we were singing about but they smiled and clapped. Not the best audience.

SLOMAN: It was a little old hall, but there was an electricity in the air. The second night was Halloween and Bob and Neuwirth came out in these masks to sing “When I Paint My Masterpieceâ€. People were astonished to see Bob in such an intimate setting. It was a thrill to be that close.

STONER: To get the crowd warmed up, the people in the band who were experienced as frontmen or songwriters each got a song. Neuwirth did a tune, I did a tune, Ronson did a tune, Soles did a tune. We were a self-contained opening act. Then we’d bring out the guest artists. McGuinn did his hits, Ramblin’ Jack would do some tunes and then to take it home for the first half, Bob would come out. We’d ease into that with him and Neuwirth singing “…Masterpiece†together in funny masks. Then there’d be 30 minutes of Bob before an intermission. Then we’d have Bob and Joan, then Joan, then Bob on his own. Then there was the grand finale with everybody on stage. We had so many arrows in the quiver.

SLOMAN: Jacques Levy was writing lyrics and he was a great stage director, so he put together the whole format.

RIVERA: Backstage on opening night there is a photo 
of Bob kneeling down in front of me with his guitar. Bob was sensitive to the fact I’d never played in front of that many people and I was nervous. He offered reassuring words so I could go out and deliver with confidence.

ELLIOTT: I’d play the last two songs of my set with T-Bone Burnett’s guitar. He was in the band that played behind Bob, they were called Guam. I played solo for about three songs, then Guam came and joined me for two hotter numbers. I did my set early in the show and then as I ran off Bob would run on and say, [does Dylan impression] “Good set, Jack.†Then he’d go on without announcement.

BAEZ: I’m limited in this sort of situation as I do covers, not hits. 
I did “Diamonds And Rust†and whatever I felt would get through. Bob was always respectful and introduced me in a polite way, but I felt a little like I did at Live Aid – “What am I doing here?†I had to find ways to keep people amused. I’d go out and dance.

RIVERA: I was fearful of so many people staring at me, so I put 
on dark glasses and painted a talisman of protection on myself. That was the beginning of the white face. I sometimes appeared with a painting on my face of butterfly wings or spider web. Bob started wearing the whiteface and I feel certain he understood 
the symbolism behind what I was painting.

“He had these prescription sunglasses…”

An unconventional blessing ceremony takes place. Frank Zappa’s tour bus is requisitioned. A young musician shows his appreciation

ELLIOTT: Bob never told us why it was called Rolling Thunder and I never asked. He just thought it was a good name. A friend of mine, a Native American medicine man from Nevada, was called Rolling Thunder. I asked Bob if he knew there was a Native American called Rolling Thunder. He said, “No, I didn’t know that.†
That’s what Bob always says if you ever ask him any question in the world. He always says, “No, I didn’t know that.†When we were staying in Newport, Rhode Island, we all went down to the beach and Rolling Thunder lit 
a bonfire. We took turns to say a prayer and he blessed the tour with an eagle feather.

McGUINN: We danced around singing, “Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Coco Baby Bop Dooap Bop Dooap,†and it felt good. 
I said later that it saved my soul.

BAEZ: I felt Bob wasn’t entirely comfortable with the ceremony. Bob sang his song in that way he has where he wants to get rid of it.

McGUINN: We had this tour bus we rented from Frank Zappa. It had “Phydeaux†– Fido – written on the side and a picture of a greyhound. Bob was in “the green machineâ€, a GMC motorhome. One time I went with him. He had prescription sunglasses and it was getting dark and he couldn’t see where he was going. That was 
a real interesting experience.

SLOMAN: I was in a rental car. Management were always fucking around with me. At one point in New Haven they actually pulled some wires in my car so the battery wouldn’t work. They were sabotaging me. They even discussed getting me a ticket and putting me on a steamer, but I don’t think they had the balls 
to do that.

ELLIOTT: Joni Mitchell performed 
a couple of shows, and then she came and joined us.

McGUINN: Joni likes to sit up front behind the driver. She had a book, a speckled exercise book, and she was always writing songs. One day I got a song from her, “Dreamlandâ€.

ELLIOTT: At one show, a young man came to the dressing room asking for my autograph. I asked if he played guitar and he said he did. I wished him luck and asked his name. He said it was Bruce. Bruce Springsteen.

STONER: It was an evolving entity. It would change from night to night. It was always in flux, there were always surprises and it always kept you on your toes. That meant there was sheer terror on my behalf throughout the show as I knew there’d be something we’d never done and I had to hope the band could remember from rehearsal. And I had to hope Bob remembered it the same as the band did. We were all strung out, 30 feet across the stage, about eight of us, and everybody seemed to be on guitar.

SLOMAN: When Bob was on they’d all come out and watch. He was so great on that tour. A lot of these songs were epic journey songs and Bob was able to almost act them out. He was wearing whiteface. “Isis†is a great example, or “One More Cup Of Coffeeâ€. These songs were very cinematic and you could really see him emoting.

McGUINN: Bob was amazing, full of surprises. You didn’t know what he was doing next.

BAEZ: He was spectacular. It was a stellar performance every night. I went down into the crowd. Sometimes people noticed me, but I’d just look at them and say “Sssh†and they’d not bother me.

STONER: There were all these stop-and-start type 
songs that Bob was very enamoured of at that time, like “Durango†and “Oh, Sisterâ€. Every time they started up again my heart would be in my throat wondering if these motherfuckers would know when to go. The whole time, I’m singing harmony, conducting with the neck of my bass and watching Bob’s mouth to see when the next syllable was coming. It was a high-wire act.

“It was a big party for a long time”

Baez as Bob. Sam Shepard’s film. Muhammad Ali attends the show at Madison Square Garden. The first leg concludes

McGUINN: T-Bone Burnett would lasso me when I was playing “Chestnut Mareâ€. Joan Baez and I would sing “Eight Miles High†and she’d do this dance in the middle of it, a sort of boogaloo that nobody would have thought of Joan Baez.

ELLIOTT: Joan warned me in Toronto she was going to do something during my set. She came out dressed in this very funny outfit, like a bobbysoxer with striped socks and a miniskirt chewing bubble gum doing a jitterbug. Nobody knew who she was, so one of our security guards lifted her over his shoulder and took her off the stage.

BAEZ: I remember dressing up as Bob for one show. You could not tell from a distance which of us was which. He didn’t have an ass, but we didn’t turn round for the public. I did a spectacular Dylan impersonation.

ERIC ANDERSEN: I was doing a show in Niagara Falls with Tony Brown, who played on Blood On The Tracks. We went to see Rolling Thunder, then went on for the finale. Bob asked if I wanted to do a number, but I was singing choruses, having 
a good time. After the gig I went to the party and saw Joni and Ginsberg. I think there were a lot of drugs. Something had to keep it rolling.

McGUINN: It was a big party for 
a long time.

SLOMAN: As well as playing 
every night, Dylan was doing Renaldo & Clara.

ELLIOTT: The film is totally unrelated to anything that really happened. They are all last-minute made-up scenes that Bob made up. He invited Sam Shepard and his job officially was scriptwriter for this film, but we rarely had a written script.

BAEZ: The film was goofy. I had no particular confidence what would come out of the film. 
I didn’t think there were any professionals around. It was like a Boy Scout camp making a cool film, that’s what it felt like and kind of what it ended up.

SLOMAN: “Hurricane†[Dylan’s November 1975 song about imprisoned boxer Rubin Carter] was a real return to his roots. He’d done a lot of songs about racial injustice and this wasn’t new for him to pick up the cause of a black guy screwed by the justice system. The last big event on the first leg was the Night Of The Hurricane at Madison Square Garden. Muhammad Ali was there, it was amazing.

ELLIOTT: We also did a concert at Carter’s prison for the inmates. They were all black. They didn’t appreciate Joni, she was too white. They didn’t tap their feet for Joni.

BAEZ: I’m pretty good at penitentiaries. I kind of get what the inmates want, what they’re missing, and how to relate. They’re usually Latinos or black, and I have that repertoire. I remember Joni singing something wordy, long and white, and they weren’t interested, they got restless. Bob didn’t have to think about it, he’s in his own stratosphere. They wouldn’t care if he got up and farted.

RIVERA: The prison was a very sad experience. At the Garden, I got to shake Ali’s hand. That was an incredible show. But almost every show was a great show, I don’t think we did a bad one. Every night and every place. We didn’t get tired. This was music that everybody was passionate about and an experience that we all knew was never going to happen again.

“It just faded away…”

The tour ends up where it began – in New York’s Greenwich Village, where one final revelation from Dylan awaits

RIVERA: Before the second leg, we did another benefit for Carter at the Houston Astrodome. It was an all-star concert with Stevie Wonder and our guest drummer was Ringo Starr. We all deferred our salaries for the fund.

McGUINN: I think somebody decided he’d lost 
a lot of money, so they did another tour in ’76 at larger venues in the South. That wasn’t as much fun, the first half was great. I do remember we went to see Bobby Charles in Louisiana, and for dinner he had this alligator wrapped in aluminium foil on the table and a keg of beer. You poured yourself a beer and grabbed a hunk of alligator flesh. It tasted like chicken.

SLOMAN: The second part didn’t have the same spirit. You look at the footage and it’s a whole different Bob. He’s got a different outfit, he’s reinvented himself again. He was ready to move on, ’cos one thing he never does is repeat himself.

BAEZ: All the colour is gone, the pretty scarves and flowers, and with it the excitement. It wasn’t over, it just wasn’t the same.

KEMP: The second tour was similar but in a different location, so had a different flavour. It was a one-of-a-kind tour and that’s why it is legendary. No-one had done anything like it before or since.

McGUINN: It just faded away. There was never 
a wrap party. The real party was at the front hanging out at Gerde’s before we left.

SLOMAN: Every night I got to see Dylan pour 
his heart out in the most amazing fashion. At the end of the tour we were back at the Other End where it all began and somebody played “Like 
A Rolling Stone†on the jukebox. I started kidding Bob, “You didn’t even play your best songs on 
this tour!†And he said to me, “Ratso, did I ever 
let you down?â€

Oasis to celebrate 25 years since Knebworth with new concert film

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Oasis will mark the 25th anniversary of their era-defining Knebworth show with a new concert film of the event, due for cinematic release later this year. The film will be executive-produced by Noel and Liam Gallagher and directed by Jake Scott, who has previously helmed videos for Oasis (as well...

Oasis will mark the 25th anniversary of their era-defining Knebworth show with a new concert film of the event, due for cinematic release later this year.

The film will be executive-produced by Noel and Liam Gallagher and directed by Jake Scott, who has previously helmed videos for Oasis (as well as REM, Radiohead, The Verve and Massive Attack).

In contrast to Mat Whitecross’s 2016 documentary Supersonic, which climaxed with the staging of the Knebworth concert in August 1996, Scott says that his film is “a story driven entirely by the music, a rock and roll experience, told in the moment, like a visual stream of consciousness that is built around the extensive archive footage from the event. No on-camera interviews or unnecessary celebrity recollections.â€

A release date and title for the Oasis Knebworth film has yet to be confirmed.

Chrissie Hynde announces Bob Dylan covers album

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Chrissie Hynde has unveiled an album of Bob Dylan covers entitled Standing In The Doorway, due out on May 21 via BMG. Standing In The Doorway was recorded during lockdown with Pretenders bandmate James Walbourne, with the pair communicating by text. It was mixed by Tchad Blake. "A few weeks in...

Chrissie Hynde has unveiled an album of Bob Dylan covers entitled Standing In The Doorway, due out on May 21 via BMG.

Standing In The Doorway was recorded during lockdown with Pretenders bandmate James Walbourne, with the pair communicating by text. It was mixed by Tchad Blake.

“A few weeks into lockdown last year, James sent me the new Dylan track ‘Murder Most Foul’,” says Hynde. “Listening to that song completely changed everything for me. I was lifted out of this morose mood that I’d been in.

“I remember where I was sitting the day that Kennedy was shot – every reference in the song. Whatever Bob does, he still manages somewhere in there to make you laugh because as much as anything, he’s a comedian. He’s always funny and always has something to say. That’s when I called James and said, ‘let’s do some Dylan covers’ and that’s what started this whole thing.”

Check out the tracklisting below to see which Dylan songs she’s chosen to cover, and pre-order Standing In The Doorway here.

In The Summertime
You’re A Big Girl Now
Standing in the Doorway
Sweetheart Like You
Blind Willie McTell
Love Minus Zero / No Limit
Don’t Fall Apart On Me Tonight
Tomorrow Is A Long Time
Every Grain Of Sand

A film about the making of the album, directed by Michael Nunn and William Trevitt, will air on Sky Arts on May 24, Bob Dylan’s 80th birthday. Entitled Tomorrow Is A Long Time, it will also feature specially filmed exclusive performances of songs from the album.

Of course, Hynde’s effort is not the only Bob Dylan covers album around at the moment. Uncut’s Dylan Revisited CD – featuring covers of his songs by The Flaming Lips, Low, Richard Thompson, Courtney Marie Andrews, Cowboy Junkies, Weyes Blood, Jason Lytle, Fatoumata Diawara, The Weather Station and more – is free with the latest issue of the magazine, in shops now while stocks last…

Samba Touré – Binga

Samba Touré comes from a centuries-old “oral traditionâ€. It’s a phrase we often use about African music without perhaps comprehending its full meaning. If we think about it at all, we assume it refers to musical skills and styles passed on in griot-fashion from generation to generation, with ...

Samba Touré comes from a centuries-old “oral traditionâ€. It’s a phrase we often use about African music without perhaps comprehending its full meaning. If we think about it at all, we assume it refers to musical skills and styles passed on in griot-fashion from generation to generation, with an accompanying set of ancestral folk tales that contain a semi-mythical tribal history of great kings and brave warriors.

All of which is true and is reflected on Binga, Touré’s sixth solo album since his international debut a dozen years ago. Yet the reasons why African music to this day remains a predominantly oral tradition run deeper. Growing up in a remote village in northern Mali on the edge of the Sahara, Touré never went to school. “I can’t read easily, just a few words, so I’ve never read a book in my life,†he admits.

The same is true for most of his domestic audience and it’s key to an understanding of the significance of artists such as Touré in West African societies. As he tells Uncut, music in Mali is far more than merely entertainment. You can let your hair down and dance to it, of course. But songs are also one of the main conduits for information and education, fulfilling the functions of a newspaper or social media in a country in which two-thirds of the population is illiterate.

The point was brought home to this reviewer some years ago at a festival in Bamako. A hip-hop trio were on
stage and I asked what they were rapping about. It turned out they were making a public service announcement.
“They’re telling the youth that the streets are filthy and they should pick up the litter,†came the answer. One can’t recall NWA spearheading a ‘Keep Compton Tidy’ campaign.

On Binga we find Touré singing in his native Songhoy tongue about the malfunctioning of the school system (“Ataharâ€), the damage mankind is wreaking upon the natural world (“Adounyaâ€), the rural poverty of his old village (“Sambamilaâ€) and urging Malian youth against leaving family and friends behind in search of an illusory better life abroad (“Fondoâ€). Then, despite his country’s many problems, on “Sambalama†he urges his people to stand tall and hope for better days to come.

How much these important but parochial messages need concern Touré’s international audience is a matter of individual choice. You can simply regard this gloriously traditional music as an exotic and mysterious luxury and tap your foot to the timeless, mesmerising beat of Touré’s desert blues (a term he hates as a lazy Western catch-all, by the way). But our appreciation is surely enhanced by an understanding of the music’s higher purpose. In a turbulent, divided country ravaged by military coups, jihadist attacks and tribal rebellions, Touré’s texts disseminate messages as vitally as Twitter and Facebook in the Western world.

Touré was born in 1968 in Binga, a rural commune near Timbuktu. His mother was a singer who sometimes performed with Ali Farka Touré, who was unrelated but became the boy’s hero and mentor. He made his first guitar from a sardine box and graduated to an electric instrument when Ali gave him one of his cast-offs. By the ’90s he was touring Europe and the US as a member of Ali’s band.

Heavily influenced by the blues-driven style of his mentor, who died of cancer in 2006, Touré’s first international album two years later was fittingly titled Songhai Blues: Homage To Ali Farka Touré. Signed by Chris Eckman when the former Walkabouts singer launched Glitterbeat in 2013, Binga is Touré’s fourth album for the label and his most traditional-sounding release to date. On 2014’s Gandadiko and Wande three years later, Touré mixed authentic African instruments with a harder-rocking urban style. Here the sound is stripped back to Touré’s guitar, the earthy sound of the banjo-like ngoni and calabash percussion. The groove is taut, the vibe is stark, almost austere in its bare-bones feel, and the only chromatic embellishment to the strictly traditional template comes from the use of harmonica on several tracks. If past albums were Touré’s equivalent of the Chicago blues, this set is metaphorically located deep down in the Delta.

In addition to Touré’s ‘message’ songs, the set is bookended by a couple of elegant and ancient praise tunes, one to the ancestral rulers of the Songhoy empire centuries ago and another to the beauty of Malian women. If this fine album bore the name of a different Touré, it would rank alongside the best of Ali Farka’s legacy. And there really can be no higher praise than that.

Teenage Fanclub – Endless Arcade

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Not everything happens by design – couples stumble into separations, states slide into war – and so it was with Gerry Love’s split from Teenage Fanclub in 2018. A disagreement about an upcoming tour resulted, without either party quite realising how, in Love’s departure, 29 years after joini...

Not everything happens by design – couples stumble into separations, states slide into war – and so it was with Gerry Love’s split from Teenage Fanclub in 2018. A disagreement about an upcoming tour resulted, without either party quite realising how, in Love’s departure, 29 years after joining the band.

It’s not out of keeping with the way the group have always operated, though: instinctively, honestly, seemingly without a plan. Not for them the shock left-turn, the conceptual experiment, the album heavily influenced by electronic music or tropicália. Instead, they concentrate on the songs – and what magical songs – and let everything else take care of itself. Progress has been made over the three decades since Bandwagonesque, of course, but it’s been gradual, organic and dignified. A master craftsman does not need to reinvent the concept of a chair each time they make one.

With Love gone, change has been forced on them for the first time in a while. Remaining songwriters Norman Blake and Raymond McGinley, along with long-time drummer Francis MacDonald, quickly sorted a new lineup, with David McGowan moving from guitar and keys to bass, and Euros Childs (of Gorky’s and Jonny, the latter a duo project with Blake) joining on electric piano, organ and synths.

On Endless Arcade’s first four songs, this new lineup have sparked some of the most driving and energetic music of Teenage Fanclub’s 21st century. Opener “Home†is an epic by their standards, extended to seven minutes by duelling guitar solos, and a propulsion that suggests Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever. There’s a lovely moment where the band embrace a happy accident, McGinley hitting what sounds like a wrong note in his Verlaine-esque solo, and then bending back into the key. Blake’s “Warm Embrace†is two minutes of sprightly new wave, complete with warm, kitsch organ from Childs and a kind of lead bass, McCartney-style, from McGowan.

McGinley’s first two offerings are darker and more angular, the title track distinguished by a sour, unexpected middle section complete with synth solo. Then “The Sun Won’t Shine On Me†and “In Our Dreams†herald the return of Blake and McGinley’s duelling guitars, while McGinley’s “Come With Me†is a spiralling, bittersweet piece once again highlighted by Childs’ keys and McGowan’s elastic bassline.

The band have always plumbed the more melancholic side of life – 2016’s Here was tinged with sadness for the passing of time – but Endless Arcade is thick with the spectre of loss. Not, however, for the absence of Love, but of love itself: after a decade in Ontario with his Canadian wife of more than 20 years, Blake is back in Scotland, situation uncertain.

Many of his six songs on Endless Arcade seem to deal with the aftermath of this trauma, the beauty of his melodies highlighting the sweet despair of the words, some of the most elegant and refined he’s written. “This life is complicated,†he muses on the beat-group rush of “I’m More Inclinedâ€. “It’s enough to make you blue/And then you have the rug get pulled from under you… When I leave this great dominion/Roving far across the sea/Do you keep a candle burning there for me?â€

The penultimate “Living With You†– perhaps Endless Arcade’s strongest song – is a minor-key lament, glistening with harmonies, but again with a skip in its step despite its protagonist’s troubles: “My world is upside down/I’m lost don’t know what to do/With you so far away from me/And so I wait in hope, one day that the tide will turn/I love you ’til I cease to be.â€

McGinley has always specialised in more ruminative songs, and his soulful Side Two highlights, “The Future†and “Silent Songâ€, are especially autumnal. Yet there’s hope, on the latter, that the days will at some point get longer…: “Everything’s grey outside/But I know the rain will subside/Eventually…â€

Even amid these splendours, it’s hard to ignore the ghost at the feast – that phantom with the bass guitar, the one begging the question of what this album might have sounded like with Love writing a third of the songs. Another voice might have broadened the record’s horizon, of course, and Love’s contributions have often been standouts. Yet it would be foolish to wish away what we have – Endless Arcade exists, and it’s excellent, with enchanting melodies, emotional depth and a few unexpected evolutions. If there’s a lesson here, it’s one Teenage Fanclub have been teaching us all along: in the end, if you let it, everything flows.

Pearl Jam release 186 (!) live albums

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Pearl Jam have announced the digital release of 186 live albums consisting of sought-after bootlegs from their world tours of 2000, 2003, 2008 and 2013. This 5,404-song catalogue has been released today on streaming services, as well on the band's own new online hub called Deep, which includes fa...

Pearl Jam have announced the digital release of 186 live albums consisting of sought-after bootlegs from their world tours of 2000, 2003, 2008 and 2013.

This 5,404-song catalogue has been released today on streaming services, as well on the band’s own new online hub called Deep, which includes fan-written notes for every live show, curated playlists and a custom set list generator.

Listen to a playlist of 50 live Pearl Jam tracks from the new consignment below:

Can’s Irmin Schmidt: “We were too undisciplined for festivals!”

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Halleluhwah! The latest issue of Uncut – in shops now or available to buy online by clicking here, with free P&P for the UK – features a six-page Can celebration as a new series of live albums highlights the band's wild, incantatory performances. Co-founder Irmin Schmidt and other eyewitnesses h...

Halleluhwah! The latest issue of Uncut – in shops now or available to buy online by clicking here, with free P&P for the UK – features a six-page Can celebration as a new series of live albums highlights the band’s wild, incantatory performances. Co-founder Irmin Schmidt and other eyewitnesses help Rob Young chart their progress from the Croydon Greyhound to balmy nights in Arles and Stuttgart’s Gustav-Siegle-Haus – via sought-after bootlegs, freak-noise meltdowns and the right kind of “psychic environmentâ€â€¦

When Irmin Schmidt talks about the “architecture†of a Can live set, he points to the group’s custom of playing for around two-and-a-half to three hours every night, with an intermission (and rarely a support band). Never mind if their audiences came expecting to hear album favourites – Can stuck to their principles and reinvented the music anew each night. “Every concert we started with a pure improvisation or invention,†he says. “We never started by quitting a piece. On Stuttgart, the second piece is sort of related to ‘Bel Air’, but the very first thing we played was always our reaction to the place, the public, the sound on stage, the environment. I mean, the physical and mental environment – the psychic environment… The ‘vibrations’, you would have called it at the time!â€

In fact, Schmidt reveals, Can had a ritual to generate the vibrations even before the band took to the stage. “Normally, nobody was allowed to join us in the last 20 minutes before going on stage. We were all alone and nobody was allowed into the dressing room. Not even Hildegard [Schmidt, Irmin’s wife and Can’s manager]! Because Hildegard would start talking about some organisational stuff, so even she was banned. Then we were sitting there, very silently making sounds, drumming on the table, and humming, or maybe playing an acoustic or electric guitar without amplification. Making music, very concentrated, and very relaxed, like a meditation before the concert. We did that every time, whenever it was possible. I mean, sometimes you came so late that it was panic. Nobody had the right to enter and disturb this kind of meditation.â€

This singleminded approach to musical purity could often confound fans. “A lot of acts, they play the old familiar tunes and get the round of applause,†says Duncan Fallowell, a long-time friend of the band. “At a Can concert, you never knew what you would hear. So there was always that… It didn’t always work. But often it worked. And often it was in a realm that neither worked or didn’t work, but was just something new.â€

Festivals, admits Schmidt, were largely avoided. “Most of the time there were too many limitations. You were limited in time. You had to be on at, say, 16.45, start playing, and at 17.35 you had to finish. That was not for us. We were too undisciplined! You were chased from the stage just as we started to get really into it.â€

You can read much more about Can’s live adventures in the June 2021 issue of Uncut, out now with Bob Dylan on the cover!

End Of The Road festival confirms 2021 line-up

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End Of The Road festival has confirmed its line-up for the 2021 edition, taking place at Larmer Tree Gardens near Salisbury on September 2-5. Some artists have been retained from the postponed 2020 event while others are brand new additions. The four festival headliners are now Hot Chip, Stereol...

End Of The Road festival has confirmed its line-up for the 2021 edition, taking place at Larmer Tree Gardens near Salisbury on September 2-5. Some artists have been retained from the postponed 2020 event while others are brand new additions.

The four festival headliners are now Hot Chip, Stereolab, King Krule and Sleaford Mods, while Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood makes a rare solo live appearance.

Other exciting new additions to the bill include Uncut favourites Tinariwen, Arab Strap, Shirley Collins & The Lodestar Band, Jane Weaver, Kikagaku Moyo, Hen Ogledd and Altin Gün.

The festival is almost sold out, but there will be a limited late release of tickets at 10am on May 20. For more details and to see the full line-up, visit the official End Of The Road site.

Exclusive! Watch a video for the new track by John Dwyer and friends

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OSees leader John Dwyer has reassembled the same crew who recorded last year's experimental throwdown Bent Arcana – Ryan Sawyer, Peter Kerlin, Tom Dolas, Brad Caulkins, Kyp Malone, Marcos Rodriguez, Joce Soubiran, Laena Myers-Ionita and Andres Renteria, plus Ben Boye – for a new album of improv ...

OSees leader John Dwyer has reassembled the same crew who recorded last year’s experimental throwdown Bent Arcana – Ryan Sawyer, Peter Kerlin, Tom Dolas, Brad Caulkins, Kyp Malone, Marcos Rodriguez, Joce Soubiran, Laena Myers-Ionita and Andres Renteria, plus Ben Boye – for a new album of improv jams entitled Moon-Drenched.

It’s out May 28 on Castle Face and you can watch a video for the track “Psychic Liberation”, directed by Andrew Schrader, below:

“We can all use a moment of peace and for me that is improvisation,” says Dwyer. “Take your mind out of the game for a short while. Life is full of affronts and tests but pure art for art’s sake is where it’s at. Good luck out there, be strong.”

Pre-order Moon-Drenched here.

Hear “Caught By The Heart”, a new song by Tim Finn and Phil Manzanera

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45 years after they first worked together on Split Enz's Second Thoughts album, Tim Finn has reunited with Roxy Music's Phil Manzanera for a series of EPs created 12,000 miles apart during lockdown. The first EP, Caught By The Heart, will be released on June 18. Hear its title track, featuring Ti...

45 years after they first worked together on Split Enz’s Second Thoughts album, Tim Finn has reunited with Roxy Music’s Phil Manzanera for a series of EPs created 12,000 miles apart during lockdown.

The first EP, Caught By The Heart, will be released on June 18. Hear its title track, featuring Tim’s daughter Elliot Finn on backing vocals, below:

Says Phil Manzanera: “It’s a joy and honour working with Tim, one of the finest singer-songwriters of his generation. I couldn’t believe how prolific he is, how he makes songwriting seem so natural and instinctive. I’d send the music, and then within days, these beautifully sung songs would pop up… it was like Christmas every day! And we’re still writing.â€

Adds Tim Finn: “The tracks that Phil was sending were instantly evocative and in a time of global pandemic represented a way of connecting emotionally with the countries first affected. Spain, Italy, France and the UK were all places I had travelled in, lived in and played concerts in. But now they were suffering and closed off. I started singing in Spanish and themes came freely. Sometimes I would write lyrics in English, translate them to Spanish, making changes for scan or rhyme which took me in new and unexpected directions.

“Phil’s music is always highly atmospheric and suggestive. He has a way of playing that is just the right side of elegant. My wife and children had also been playing Roxy Music in the car so Phil was present and vivid for me when I started writing these songs with him. A delightful and meaningful exchange between two old friends on opposite sides of the world.â€

Among the musicians featured on the Caught By The Heart EP are Brazilian João Mello (sax), Cuban Frank Portuondo (bass) and British-Bahraini flugelhorn player Yazz Ahmed.

Laura Marling and Tunng’s Mike Lindsay announce new Lump album

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Lump – AKA Laura Marling and Mike Lindsay of Tunng – have announced that their second album Animal will be released on July 30 via Chrysalis/Partisan Records. Watch a video for the title track below: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ckt_SPTk5A Animal was recorded at Lindsay’s home st...

Lump – AKA Laura Marling and Mike Lindsay of Tunng – have announced that their second album Animal will be released on July 30 via Chrysalis/Partisan Records.

Watch a video for the title track below:

Animal was recorded at Lindsay’s home studio in Margate, Kent. As with the first album, Marling would arrive in the studio without having heard any of Lindsay’s music. “There’s a little bit of a theme of hedonism on the album, of desires running wild,†she says. “And also it fed into the idea we had from the start of thinking of Lump as a kind of representation of instincts, and the world turned upside down.â€

“We created Lump as a sort of persona and an idea and a creature,†adds Lindsay. “Through Lump we find our inner animal, and through that animal we travel into a parallel universe.â€

Check out Lump’s UK tourdates below. The pre-sale starts at 10am on May 5 here, and tickets go on general sale from May 7.

31st August – Gorilla, Manchester
2nd September – Brudenell Social Club, Leeds
3rd September – Trinity, Bristol
5th September – Patterns, Brighton
6th September – Scala, London

Hear Dot Allison’s new single, “Long Exposure”

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Former One Dove singer Dot Allison has unveiled her first album in 12 years. Heart-Shaped Scars will be released by SA Recordings on July 30 and you can hear the first single, "Long Exposure", below. https://soundcloud.com/dotallisonofficial/long-exposure "Long Exposure" is “one of the fi...

Former One Dove singer Dot Allison has unveiled her first album in 12 years.

Heart-Shaped Scars will be released by SA Recordings on July 30 and you can hear the first single, “Long Exposure”, below.

“Long Exposure” is “one of the first songs I wrote on ukulele,” says Allison. “Last March I picked up the instrument and started composing, the fact I don’t play the ukulele was very freeing and I had to compose purely by ear, constructing my own chord clusters.â€

Heart-Shaped Scars was produced by Allison alongside Fiona Cruickshank, with Hannah Peel adding string arrangements to four songs. Recorded at Castlesound Studios in Edinburgh, the sessions also include collaborations with singer-songwriters Amy Bowman and Zoe Bestel.

The album will be available digitally and as a double gatefold vinyl in a limited-edition pressing of 500. Pre-order here and check out the tracklisting below:

1. Long Exposure
2. The Haunted
3. Constellations
4. Can You Hear Nature Sing?
5. Ghost Orchid
6. Entanglement
7. Forever’s Not Much Time
8. Cue The Tears
9. One Love
10. Love Died In Our Arms
11. Goodbye

Hear Sturgill Simpson cover John Prine’s “Paradise”

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A follow-up to the 2010 John Prine tribute album Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows is due out on October 8 through Oh Boy Records, the label founded by Prine in 1981. Following Brandi Carlile's rendition of "I Remember Everything", the second song to be released from Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows Vol...

A follow-up to the 2010 John Prine tribute album Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows is due out on October 8 through Oh Boy Records, the label founded by Prine in 1981.

Following Brandi Carlile’s rendition of “I Remember Everything”, the second song to be released from Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows Vol 2 is Sturgill Simpson’s version of “Paradise”, which you can hear below:

“Paradise†was the last song recorded at The Butcher Shoppe — the studio Prine founded with producer and engineer David Ferguson — before the building’s demolition later this year. Says Simpson of John Prine: “For myself along with many others, he was a mentor. He was very giving with his time and wisdom, and we were all grateful to get to know him.â€

You can pre-order Broken Hearts & Dirty Windows Vol 2 here. Also launching today is a new documentary series about Prine’s Oh Boy Records. Watch the first part of Big Old Goofy World: The Story Of Oh Boy Records below: