A few months ago, when I reviewed Bob Dylan’s
Time Out Of Mind, I got some wonderful letters from Dylan
fans who made some suggestions as to which album I should review
next. Since I’ve freely admitted that I don’t know a lot about
Dylan, I welcomed the suggestions, and had some great dialogues
about albums like
Blood On The Tracks and
The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.
But something kept gnawing at me, saying that I really wouldn’t
understand the progression of Dylan’s career until I went back to
the first album, 1962’s
Bob Dylan, and worked my way up. One reader warned me that
it was a bit of a rough listen, but one that was well worth it.
I’ll respectfully disagree with tha listener on the album’s
being rough; what this album captures is a 20-year-old folksinger
who is finding his own voice by working through some time-honored
classics. Although there are only two songs written by Dylan on
this album, he adds enough of his own persona in the
interpretations to make it sound like these all came from his pen.
In short, it’s a surprisingly good album.
The first thing that hits you about the songs on
Bob Dylan is that they’re almost always done with a fast
tempo. Yes, there are a few songs with a slower beat, but if I had
one complaint, I would have liked a little more variety in the mood
of the songs. This, of course, would come with time and experience
– and I have to keep reminding myself that this was the work of a
20-year-old who was making his debut. So I’m willing to cut quite a
bit of slack.
Besides, it’s not that the album disappoints. Tracks like “She’s
No Good,” “Man Of Constant Sorrow,” “In My Time Of Dyin'” (a nice
surprise to hear, seeing I grew up with Led Zeppelin’s version of
this track) and “Pretty Peggy-O” (the first time I’ve ever heard a
version of this that I could stand) all are wonderful portraits of
the artist as a young man. Dylan’s vocals, while a little shaky at
times, do ring out clear as a bell, delivering the messages that
are in the songs as powerful as a cannon. Then again, there aren’t
a lot of protest songs on
Bob Dylan; those would be forthcoming soon enough.
I would have a hard time specifying which of the originals was
my favorite. I admit I’m partial to “Talkin’ New York,” which
includes even a bit of self-deprecating humor (one club owner
supposedly tells Dylan he sounds “like a hillbilly” – which he kind
of does). The other, “Song To Woody,” is pleasant enough, though I
wouldn’t have gone out on a limb and said this marked the start of
a superb artist. I would have just called it a good song and left
it at that.
In true folksinger fashion, the only instruments you’ll hear on
Bob Dylan are acoustic guitar, harmonica and vocals. It’s
interesting to note that before I bought this album, I bought
The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, and had a hard time getting
through it because of the sparseness of the music. However, once I
had listened to this tape a few times, it made
The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan easier to accept – proof positive
that starting at the beginning was a good idea. (Three guesses what
the next Dylan album we’re going to review will be.)
Granted,
Bob Dylan is the kind of album that the diehard fans will
want to search out; I don’t think the casual fan or anyone who
knows Dylan’s work from the radio will be interested in this one
immediately. But it is a powerful album that signaled, if not the
birth of one of America’s most cherished songwriters, at least the
debut of an incredible folksinger.
