FEATURE:
Idiot Wind
Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks at Fifty
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I may only scratch the surface…
IN THIS PHOTO: Bob Dylan on stage in 1975/PHOTO CREDIT: Ray Stubblebine/AP/REX/Shutterstock
of this wonderful album but, as it turns fifty on 20th January, I wanted to spend some time with Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks. His fifteenth studio album, it was released by Columbia Records. Having begun recording at A & R studio in New York City in September 1974, Bob Dylan hastily re-recorded the material in December. That was shortly before Columbia were due to release Blood on the Tracks. Dylan re-recorded the album in Minneapolis. The final album features five tracks recorded in New York and five in Minneapolis. Even though Bob Dylan has denied the songs on Blood on the Tracks are autobiographical, it is hard to look beyond that. Songs about his estrangement from his wife, Sara. I want to start out with a feature from The Guardian. In 2018, they reviewed a new set, More Blood, More Tracks. It expanded on a classic album:
“On 16 September, 1974, Bob Dylan entered A&R recording studios in New York to begin work on his 15th studio album. He was 33 years old, his marriage was on the rocks and, despite a successful comeback tour that same year, his reputation rested solely on the epochal songs he had produced a decade previously. Having so defined the 1960s, Dylan had become an increasingly marginalised figure following his retreat to rural Woodstock at the close of the decade. The domestic normality he found there had precipitated a run of low-key, creatively unfocused albums that stretched from 1969’s Nashville Skyline to 1974’s Planet Waves. All that was about to change.
The making of the masterpiece that is Blood on the Tracks is as tangled a tale as any in Dylan’s long recording career. A version of the album was completed over four days in the studio in New York, the pace of Dylan’s impatient creativity confounding the hastily assembled band that had been recruited to flesh out his darkly reflective songs. Guitarist Eric Weissberg later recalled: “I got the distinct feeling Bob wasn’t concentrating, that he wasn’t interested in perfect takes. He’d been drinking a lot of wine, he was a little sloppy, but he insisted on moving forward, getting on to the next song without correcting obvious mistakes.” For the second day’s session, only one of the six musicians was retained, while two others were drafted in.
The finished album was scheduled for late December release. A record cover was printed, an advertising campaign finalised and test pressings dispatched to selected radio stations. A dissatisfied Dylan spent Christmas with his brother, David Zimmerman, his closest confidant. On hearing the finished record, David told him that it would fail commercially because the songs were too stark and stripped back to appeal to a mass audience. Rattled, Dylan derailed his triumphant return by insisting at the last minute that the album be withdrawn from the schedules.
Five of the 10 songs were then re-recorded in Sound 80 studio in Minneapolis over two days in the week after Christmas with a hastily assembled group of local musicians. The reworked album was rush-released on 20 January, 1975. Out of these messy and fraught circumstances, a masterpiece somehow emerged. Its gestation is mapped out in often revelatory detail on the imminent More Blood, More Tracks: The Bootleg Series Vol 14, a 6-CD deluxe box set released this week, in which the 10 original songs are augmented by every single outtake in chronological order from the 1974 recording sessions. A facsimile of one of the famous red notebooks adds to the allure of the expensive deluxe edition, while the less obsessive Dylan fan can make do with a pared-down version on single CD version and double vinyl formats.
The elaborately packaged album arrives on the back of the recent announcement by film director Luca Guadagnino that he is to follow up the mainstream success of Call Me By Your Name with an adaptation of Blood on the Tracks, which, he says, will be a “a multiyear story, set in the 70s, drawing on the album’s central themes”. Four decades after its release, Dylan’s most personal record continues to cast a spell.
As is the case for many Dylan devotees, Blood on the Tracks has been part of the soundtrack of my life since its release, as constant a presence as classic albums such as Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On? and Dylan’s previous masterpiece, 1966’s Blonde on Blonde. In the mid-90s, I came by a CD called Blood on the Tracks: The New York Sessions, an unofficial bootleg which had surfaced soon after the release of the original. It includes early, spartan recordings of songs including If You See Her, Say Hello and Idiot Wind. Over time, I have come to love them even more than the official versions, not least because, in their raw and still unfinished state, they sound even more intimate and revealing.
A case in point is his stark, acoustic reading of Idiot Wind, his most splenetic song since Positively 4th Street, which sounds even more intense than the more elaborate version on the 1975 original release. The contrast between the two reveals Dylan’s mercurial creativity at that time. Now comes news that the deluxe More Blood, More Tracks contains no fewer than nine versions of the song. (You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go unfolds over 12 separate takes.) This is manna from heaven for Dylan completists. For the rest of us, it provides intimate evidence of his often frenetic approach to recording and rewriting, capturing him in full flow at a pivotal moment on his creative journey. Lines, rhymes and even melodies change as Dylan searches for the shape and core meaning of each song in take after take. “It’s like you’re in the room...” elaborates producer Steve Berkowitz in the current issue of Uncut magazine. “It’s living history”.
I will finish with a couple of reviews for Blood on the Tracks. Before that, in 2020, Albumism marked Blood on the Tracks at forty-five. One of the all-time best albums, for those who have not investigated it yet, I would advise spending time with it. I think it ranks alongside the very best Bob Dylan albums:
“Like many of Bob Dylan’s albums, Blood On The Tracks has a complicated and involved history that greater musicologists than I have documented. A book, Simple Twist of Fate, was written about it, but the broad strokes of Dylan’s fifteenth studio album are reasonably well known.
Blood On The Tracks was Dylan’s first album back on his long-time home Columbia Records after releasing a pair of albums through Asylum. It was seen as his first and greatest comeback album that cemented him as an artist that could prosper in any era. At the time of its release, most believed it was his best album in close to a decade. And now, 45 years later, many say that it’s the best project that he ever recorded.
The relatively obscure details about the album have also been documented. How Dylan initially recorded the entire album over four chaotic days in New York City. How on the eve of the album’s release, with test copies of the vinyl pressed and artwork printed up, he decided to recall it and rerecord at least half of it (possibly at the suggestion of his brother). How he recorded the album in Minnesota using mostly unknown session musicians; the only credited musician for Blood On The Tracks is Eric Weissberg of “Dueling Banjos” fame. How he retooled the album’s sound and changed the lyrics on some of the songs in order to “soften” them. How he helped make the album lighter by changing the key everything would be played in.
Out of that mess, Blood On The Tracks in its “official” form was born, a timeless masterpiece of folk rock Americana. This makes it a difficult album to pay tribute to, because so much has been said and written about it in the past 45 years. Few other Dylan albums have gone through such extensive analysis. The angles and superlatives have all but run dry.
So I’ll just state my opinion, which is just that Blood On The Tracks is unquestionably great, high within the ranks of the best albums of all time. I’m not of the opinion that it’s Dylan’s best album, but I have it comfortably within the top five. That does indeed put it amongst the best albums ever released.
The album opens with “Tangled Up In Blue,” one of Dylan’s most beloved songs. It’s famous for the non-linearity of its narrative, which wasn’t a frequently used songwriting tool in the mid ’70s. Dylan’s approach to this unorthodox narrative structure was apparently influenced by artist Norman Raeben, who gave Dylan painting classes during 1974. The ’70s were a time when a folk rock god could say that his music was influenced by Anton Chekhov and Ukrainian painters and not sound pretentious.
“Tangled Up In Blue” remains one of Dylan’s surrealistic tours-de-force, filled with wistful memories of a woman with red hair and the time they spent together, including a still elusive tale of how they first met. Dylan has continued to change the lyrics to the song, performing many different versions of it over the years.
Blood On The Tracks is replete with strong narrative fare, creating vivid and fully realized characters through his lyrics. “Simple Twist Of Fate” documents what appears to be a one-night stand in a waterfall hotel. Dylan explores the thoughts of the man and woman, as she leaves to wander the docks soon after the night of passion has ended. He also makes inventive use of shifting the perspective of the song from first to third person, sometimes within the same verse.
Of course, the guts of Blood On The Tracks cover Dylan’s lamentations of love lost. On songs like “You’re A Big Girl,” “You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go,” and “If You See Her Say Hello,” he struggles to balance being the mature adult and learning to let go, all while being haunted by what could have been. “Meet Me In The Morning” is another largely underappreciated composition, a traditional Blues record that’s the only song on the album where the aforementioned Eric Weissberg appears.
Melancholy gives way to bile on “Idiot Wind,” the centerpiece of the album’s first side and Blood On The Tracks as a whole. At nearly eight minutes in length, it features Dylan railing against all manner of slights and perceptions, while leavening it with brief humorous asides. It’s a mash of over-the-top imagery and fury at his critics, musical or otherwise. It’s a subject matter that has been popular with Dylan since the days of “It Ain’t Me Babe.”
His anger is crystallized perfectly in the song’s second verse, as he rails, “People see me all the time / And they just can’t remember how to act / Their minds are filled with big ideas / Images and distorted facts.” He then segues into rage towards those who believe the criticisms that they read, sneering, “I couldn’t believe after all these years you didn’t know me any better than that.”
These words and other verses throughout the song only encouraged the idea that he was using the album to communicate bitterness towards his soon to be ex-wife. “Idiot Wind” is allegedly one of the songs that received the most extensive lyrical makeover, as some sections cut too close to the bone. Still, lyrics like “You hurt the ones that I love best / And cover up the truth with lies / One day you’ll be in the ditch / Flies buzzing around your eyes” are still pretty damn harsh.
“Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts” is Dylan at his most cinematic, an upbeat country ballad depicting the night in the life of bandits, a diamond baron, and cabaret performers in a town in the Old West. Structurally, the nearly nine-minute epic unfolds like a Larry McMurtry story, perfectly setting the scene and exploring the motivations of nearly everyone, except the enigmatic Jack of Hearts himself. Reportedly, there have been multiple attempts to turn the song into a film, but nothing has ever been made.
“Shelter From The Storm” features some of the album’s most arresting and beautiful imagery, as Dylan recounts his visions of the former love of his life providing him solace from the constant turmoil that life presents you. But like many of the songs on the album, unconditional love gives way to regret, as they lose sight of each other. Dylan sums up his feelings in the song’s second-to-last verse, singing, “Now there’s a wall between us / Something there’s been lost / I took too much for granted / I got my signals crossed.”
The album-ending “Buckets of Rain” is the only straight-ahead love song on Blood On The Tracks that doesn’t center on heartbreak. Playing his guitar and backed only by a bass, Dylan describes love in uncomplicated terms. He describes the effort it takes to find it amongst the misery of everyday life and the reality that comes from friends drifting apart. His lyrics are simple, yet pack a lot of depth and meaning, as he sings, “Friends will arrive, friends will disappear / If you want me honey baby, I’ll be here.”
Blood On The Tracks continues to be a source of fascination for Dylan fans and musical scholars. Columbia released More Blood, More Tracks: The Bootleg Series Vol. 14 (2018) as part of their continuing series of releasing outtakes and alternate takes of Dylan’s music. It was released as a single CD and six-CD boxset. The obsessives out there can use the six-CD set to piece together the “original” unreleased version of the album.
Blood On The Tracks could all be ruminations on the short stories of Chekhov or coded messages to the mother of his first child. Or it could be something else entirely. But whether or not it’s based on reality is immaterial. The album still has a power that hasn’t waned in the past four-and-a-half decades. Whether or not I personally ever thought of it like that, Blood On The Tracks stands as an unyielding monument to the permanent timelessness of heartache and pain”.
I am going to end with two reviews for Blood on the Tracks. Fifty years after its release, it is an album that still resonates and cuts deep. One of Dylan’s most poetic and revealing albums. The first review I want to include is from the BBC:
“Bob Dylan as an artist had a tough early 70s. By 1974 our Bob was in the strange position of being still regarded as the next Messiah while seeming bored with himself. This was, remember, the era of Planet Waves and Self Portrait – not his brightest moments - while his tour the previous year with the Band was also fairly iconoclastic. In the end two factors got Dylan back on (hem hem) track: painting and a very messy breakdown of his marriage.
In fact, one seemed to lead to the other. Dylan had spent two months in the spring of 1974, studying painting under Norman Raeben in New York. Afterwards he claimed: ‘It changed me. I went home after that and my wife never did understand me ever since that day’. While the album has a confessional sense of hurt Dylan’s always denied the connection but still admits that there’s a lot of pain on the album.
Initially sessions were held in familiar surroundings in New York. What’s more he was back with his old record company following an unsatisfactory sojourn with David Geffen’s Asylum label. Bob used Eric Weissberg’s band, Deliverance, to rush through the recording process and have the album finished in one week. In typical Bob form he showed scant regard for polish, leaving the sounds of his buttons and nails rattling against the guitar strings on many tracks. All was set for an Autumn release until, back in Minnesota, he played an acetate to his brother who suggested that it did need a more commercial sheen. Hastily assembling a cast of local musicians, Dylan re-recorded about half of the album and from these two halves this masterpiece was born.
From the opening track, “Tangled Up In Blue”, Dylan embarked on a whole new era in his work. Seemingly autobiographical, these tales of a lover relating a series of unrelated events all set in a mythical America used the impressionist method that he’d learned from Raeben: ‘I wanted to defy time, so that the story took place in the present and the past at the same time. When you look at a painting, you can see any part of it, or see all of it together. I wanted that song to be like a painting.‘ The same trick is pulled on the gorgeous “Simple Twist Of Fate.”
Over ten songs Dylan alludes to heartache, deception, angry name-calling and poignant regret and loneliness. While on the searing “Idiot Wind” he seems to have no mercy for his ex (‘It’s a wonder you can even feed yourself’ on “You’re A Big Girl Now” he pleads with her : ’I can change I SWEAR’. It’s different from his previous work because suddenly he’s singing about things that don’t pertain to youth anymore. Gone is the clever, sneering tone of the mid-60s or the haranguing of his protest years. It’s a world-weary, nostalgic and ultimately more poetic Dylan we hear, and that is what makes Blood… a timeless record”.
In 2016, Pitchfork explored Blood on the Track. Even though some feel it is quite caustic and sharp in places, it is actually a very warm and welcoming album. One of Bob Dylan’s most accessible albums. I first heard Blood on the Tracks when I was a child. It has lost none of its power decades later:
“Though the disintegration of Dylan’s marriage might easily be spotted in nearly every song on the album, there are also meditations on the ineffable passage of time (“Tangled Up in Blue”), a transitory love affair in the present tense (“You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go”) and media jackyldom and other bummers (“Idiot Wind”). For that matter, a full third of the LP’s second side is concerned with “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts,” a nine-minute 16-verse ballad that bucks the album’s signature themes of time regained, implacable loves, and unnamed names. Though remaining convincingly jaunty throughout with a light melody that catches the details in forensic clarity, its drawn-out story is a chore to decipher. Unlike the ambient emotional narratives of the rest of the album, the linear ballad requires a full and present attention, a reminder of one of the ways that music consumption is different than reading. Reportedly once considered for a film adaptation, the screen may’ve suited its stage-directed characters better than folk-rock. Further separating it from the rest, the blood spilled on this particular track doesn’t seem to be Dylan’s own, detracting from the album’s bigger picture and only underscoring the unifying power of the other nine songs.
Drawing on a range of songwriting tricks (including an open “E” tuning that assures that very few will play Dylan like Dylan, either), Blood on the Tracks emphasizes a feeling of raw expression. Singing live in the studio (with the exception of the overdubbed “Meet Me in the Morning”), Dylan placed his usual focus on capturing in-the-moment performances. And though his reputation for studio and onstage spontaneity is well-deserved, Blood on the Tracks also presents songs that he had spent almost all of 1974 writing and reworking. Personal, perhaps, the songs easily transcend their would-be biographies. If Dylan’s attitudes towards his partners sometimes stand out as patronizing—“You’re a Big Girl Now” acting as an equally infantilizing bookend to 1966’s “Just Like a Woman”—they reveal more about the nature of hurt than anything useful about the songwriter.
One glimpse into the making of the album comes through the version that Dylan very nearly released, scrapping it at the last moment, after jackets and test pressings had already been made. Playing an advance copy at a family gathering in Minnesota in over the holidays, Dylan—at the behest of his brother—decided he wanted a brighter sound, less of a downer. Flexing his superstar muscle and anticipating Neil Young, Kanye West, and others, he had the album recalled, pulling together a band of local folkies in the days after Christmas 1974 to rerecord half of the songs. The New York acetate (most recently offered in 2015 for $12,000) is all late night atmospherics, mostly just Dylan and bassist Tony Brown, the sound of the former’s coat-buttons brushing against his guitar strings. Though tracks have come out via various box sets, bootlegs of the New York sessions—sourced warmly from the acetate—are every bit as magical as the final product, a classic all its own, minus a clunkier “Lily, Rosemary, the Jack of Hearts.”
In Minneapolis, Dylan brightened up the sound (changing keys on “Tangled Up in Blue,” striking a lighter keynote) and toned down some of the crueler lyrics (especially on “If You See Her, Say Hello”). If atmosphere was lost (and it was, especially without the pedal steel-drenched “You’re A Big Girl Now”), then accessibility was gained. Charting at #1 on its January 1975 release, Blood on the Tracks is arguably the last Dylan album on which a majority of the songs became standards of their own, part of the invisible canon shared at coffee houses, college campuses, or anywhere bright-eyed young pickers might congregate. In that way, it is also maybe Dylan’s last album of originals to qualify as “folk music” in both senses of the phrase: the popular genre defined by the presence of idioms and acoustic instruments, but also the great shared body of songs with lives and language that exist apart from their studio recordings and original performers. With the Byrds and many others achieving their own hits with his tunes and Dylan himself often circulating unrecorded work via folk music zines and songwriting demos, this had long been the expected fate of Dylan's songs.
Imagining Dylan as a simple songwriter, the template of Blood on the Tracks—sad boy with an acoustic guitar and a handful of chords—might seem basic, until one tries to replicate anything about it, or even just strum the songs at home. Blood on the Tracks lives alone in Dylan’s catalog, that open “E” tuning (which Dylan refused to explain to his musicians) often preventing the songs from sounding exactly right in the hands of others. It lives on in its own peculiar way. Dylan has seemed to keep “Tangled Up In Blue” in particular to himself, rewriting the song several times, both casually (playing fast and loose with the pronouns), and more formally, including a near-total rework released on 1984’s Real Live. One of the few older songs Dylan has performed consistently in recent years, even newer verses have emerged over the past half-decade. Nobody covers Dylan like Dylan either, apparently.
Though the albums on either side of Blood on the Tracks both made it to #1 and contained hints of the same songwriting territory, via Planet Waves’ “Going, Going, Gone” and *Desire’*s “Sara,” especially, they were only just hints. Some of Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks persona remained visible via the two legs of the Rolling Thunder Revue, but the original open tuning never returned, and Dylan would soon bury his vulnerability, too. The surrealism would resurface in full force for 1978’s Street-Legal, but the musical appeal didn’t. It took another few decades for Dylan even to return to the warm string-band sound of Blood on the Tracks, coming closest on his two 21st century albums of standards, Shadows in the Night and Fallen Angels. For a restless musician, it was a combination of factors that only came together once, locking together to transmit themselves through the years.
Even roughly 40 years later, Blood on the Tracks broadcasts hurt and longing so boldly it has become a stand-in, the type of shorthand a song licensor would deploy at the push of a button if it wasn’t so expensive and maybe too predictable. It manages a balance of old pain resolved and wounds so fresh they seem as if they might never heal, brutal personal assessment and doubt, unnecessary cruelties and real-time self-flagellation. While Blood on the Tracks can be a constant companion to listeners during periods of initial discovery, it (and Dylan’s whole catalog) has also become something to be lived with over a long period and put away for special occasions. Functioning like a literal album, the density of the passed time and pressed memories in “Tangled Up in Blue” grow richer with each passing year. As with the narratives of the songs themselves, Blood on the Tracks continues to absorb yesterday, today, and tomorrow, promising it can sustain new listeners as much as new meanings, should it ever have to be called back into service”.
On 20th January, the amazing Blood on the Tracks turns fifty. I wonder how Bob Dylan views the album now. Still one of his most acclaimed and celebrated, make sure that you spend some time with this masterpiece. It is personal and affecting but it is also inviting and layered. Songs that have stood the test of time. A genius songwriter at the peak of his powers. There are few stronger and more affecting albums than Bob Dylan’s…
FIFTEENTH studio album.