Record: Another Side of Bob Dylan
Release: August 1964
Label: Columbia
Songs / length: 11 / 50:37
Recorded in a single evening in June 1964, when Dylan was back in New York after a road trip, Dylan's fourth album is looser in style and softer in focus than his previous record. There are no more "finger pointing" songs, with the spotlight more on love, lust and heartbreak, rather than political protest. Inevitably, this served to alienate Dylan's purist folk following, a rupture that's often linked with Dylan going electric in 1965-66, but in fact it's worth remembering that the process started much earlier with this release. For me, this change of mindset is best summed up in the immortal couplet from My Back Pages:
These lines make more sense when viewed in the context of how Dylan felt about his career up to that point, especially his longing to shake off the role of spokesman for a generation and wise sage, and instead rediscover his youth. His horizons were already expanding beyond the narrow focus of the American folk community, after first meeting Beat poet Allen Ginsberg in late 1963, then setting out on a road trip across the States in early 1964 (viz Jack Kerouac's On The Road) and experimenting with LSD and marijuana. One early marker of this new direction for Dylan was an outtake from the Times They Are a-Changin' sessions – the magnificent Lay Down Your Weary Tune – a visionary ballad that's a product of pure imagination, and not anchored in any political concerns.
Chimes of Freedom is probably the song on Another Side of Bob Dylan that best fits with this new songwriting style, a 7-minute epic that he wrote along with parts of Mr Tambourine Man while on his travels through America in the back of a Ford station wagon. While the song's title and lyrics (which express sympathy for the poor and outcast) are the closest Dylan gets to flirting with politics on this record, Chimes of Freedom has a dreamy quality that doesn't fit at all well with his more focused early material, and the rich symbolism and sense of redemption at the song's closing – "spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended" – give it a biblical feel.
My Back Pages is even more explicit in its rejection of old "black and white" political certainties, with Dylan sneering at ‘‘corpse evangelists’’ and those who talk of equality "as if a wedding vow". His rejection of liberal orthodoxy lost him a lot of friends on the radical political left, but this unburdening made him feel younger and freer. Part of Dylan's rejuvenation can be attributed to hearing the fresh, joyous sound of The Beatles while on his US road trip, which no doubt rekindled his early love for rock & roll. Michael Gray, in his Dylan encyclopaedia Song & Dance Man, thinks that the "no, no, no" of Dylan's It Ain’t Me, Babe is a "discreet riposte" to the "yeah, yeah, yeah" of The Beatles' She Loves You.
Ever the contrarian, Dylan was inspired to explore his heart and add more piano and richness to his sound, but do it in his own eccentric and downbeat way. In fairness, he was still hurting from the breakdown of his relationship with Suze Rotolo, and any idealism he had would have taken a battering by the assassination of JFK in late 1963, but that's no excuse for how bitter and twisted he sounds on some songs, especially the 8-minute lament Ballad In Plain D. He wrote it in the immediate aftermath of the breakdown of that relationship, and the rawness shows, especially in the nastiness directed at Suze's sister Carla, while the self-pity is also excruciating to hear. By his own admission, Dylan said in a 1985 interview that he "could have left that [song] alone".
At least two other tracks on the record – All I Really Want To Do and I Don’t Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met) – explore similar territory to It Ain't Me, Babe and Ballad In Plain D, in other words a healthy scepticism towards romantic love. His parody of "boy meets girl" love songs is strongest on All I Really Want To Do, which has some clever rhymes but is spoiled for me by the lame attempts at humour (you can even hear Dylan laughing at himself) and the yodelling, high-pitched delivery. Motorpsycho Nitemare also lacks polish, but in it I can see the germ of the much more accomplished Subterranean Homesick Blues on his next record.
Album rating: B-
Release: August 1964
Label: Columbia
Songs / length: 11 / 50:37
Recorded in a single evening in June 1964, when Dylan was back in New York after a road trip, Dylan's fourth album is looser in style and softer in focus than his previous record. There are no more "finger pointing" songs, with the spotlight more on love, lust and heartbreak, rather than political protest. Inevitably, this served to alienate Dylan's purist folk following, a rupture that's often linked with Dylan going electric in 1965-66, but in fact it's worth remembering that the process started much earlier with this release. For me, this change of mindset is best summed up in the immortal couplet from My Back Pages:
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now
These lines make more sense when viewed in the context of how Dylan felt about his career up to that point, especially his longing to shake off the role of spokesman for a generation and wise sage, and instead rediscover his youth. His horizons were already expanding beyond the narrow focus of the American folk community, after first meeting Beat poet Allen Ginsberg in late 1963, then setting out on a road trip across the States in early 1964 (viz Jack Kerouac's On The Road) and experimenting with LSD and marijuana. One early marker of this new direction for Dylan was an outtake from the Times They Are a-Changin' sessions – the magnificent Lay Down Your Weary Tune – a visionary ballad that's a product of pure imagination, and not anchored in any political concerns.
Chimes of Freedom is probably the song on Another Side of Bob Dylan that best fits with this new songwriting style, a 7-minute epic that he wrote along with parts of Mr Tambourine Man while on his travels through America in the back of a Ford station wagon. While the song's title and lyrics (which express sympathy for the poor and outcast) are the closest Dylan gets to flirting with politics on this record, Chimes of Freedom has a dreamy quality that doesn't fit at all well with his more focused early material, and the rich symbolism and sense of redemption at the song's closing – "spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended" – give it a biblical feel.
My Back Pages is even more explicit in its rejection of old "black and white" political certainties, with Dylan sneering at ‘‘corpse evangelists’’ and those who talk of equality "as if a wedding vow". His rejection of liberal orthodoxy lost him a lot of friends on the radical political left, but this unburdening made him feel younger and freer. Part of Dylan's rejuvenation can be attributed to hearing the fresh, joyous sound of The Beatles while on his US road trip, which no doubt rekindled his early love for rock & roll. Michael Gray, in his Dylan encyclopaedia Song & Dance Man, thinks that the "no, no, no" of Dylan's It Ain’t Me, Babe is a "discreet riposte" to the "yeah, yeah, yeah" of The Beatles' She Loves You.
Ever the contrarian, Dylan was inspired to explore his heart and add more piano and richness to his sound, but do it in his own eccentric and downbeat way. In fairness, he was still hurting from the breakdown of his relationship with Suze Rotolo, and any idealism he had would have taken a battering by the assassination of JFK in late 1963, but that's no excuse for how bitter and twisted he sounds on some songs, especially the 8-minute lament Ballad In Plain D. He wrote it in the immediate aftermath of the breakdown of that relationship, and the rawness shows, especially in the nastiness directed at Suze's sister Carla, while the self-pity is also excruciating to hear. By his own admission, Dylan said in a 1985 interview that he "could have left that [song] alone".
At least two other tracks on the record – All I Really Want To Do and I Don’t Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met) – explore similar territory to It Ain't Me, Babe and Ballad In Plain D, in other words a healthy scepticism towards romantic love. His parody of "boy meets girl" love songs is strongest on All I Really Want To Do, which has some clever rhymes but is spoiled for me by the lame attempts at humour (you can even hear Dylan laughing at himself) and the yodelling, high-pitched delivery. Motorpsycho Nitemare also lacks polish, but in it I can see the germ of the much more accomplished Subterranean Homesick Blues on his next record.
Sonny & Cher did it better!
In many ways, I see Another Side of Bob Dylan as a transitionary record, the necessary step that would lead the way to Dylan's mid-60s purple patch. The record's rushed recording and general lack of quality control – even its underwhelming title, which was not Dylan’s choice – mark the end of an era, and there would be no looking back in terms of creative control from now onwards. It would also be the last time Dylan performed solo on a record until the 90s, with his sound from now on expanding in sync with his imagination. While Another Side of Bob Dylan still has some stellar examples of Dylan's songwriting prowess, from My Back Pages and Chimes of Freedom to Spanish Harlem Incident and To Ramona, overall I consider it to be one of Dylan's least accomplished 60s records. Stay tuned though, as things are about to get very interesting.Album rating: B-
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