Blood On The Tracks New York Sessions Raritan
Direct from a smash-hit New York and London West End season! Painter and decorator by day, Mr. Popper spends his time dreaming of Antarctic adventures.
Blood On The Tracks New York Sessions Blogspot
One doesn't have to be a broken-hearted straight male (or even a Nobel Prize voter) to fall in love with ’s Blood on the Tracks, but it might help. Filled with open-ended and often gender-specific pronouns, the yous, hers, hes, shes, and theys remain unnamed on all but one of the 10 songs on the moody 1975 epic, each a glowing invitation for listeners to fill in the blanks with their own nearest available emotional devastations. Often referred to as Dylan’s “breakup album,” it’s likewise become just that for many listeners, both expressing and absorbing great aloneness. Dylan himself professed confusion about the album’s popularity. “It’s hard for me to relate to that,” he said the year Blood on the Tracks was released. “I mean, people enjoying that kind of pain.” But as plenty have pointed out in the wake of, his music is about far more than just his lyrics, and Blood on the Tracks is a prime example of just what that more constitutes. Beyond the emotional wreckage, Blood on the Tracks might be Dylan’s most welcoming LP, its music projecting an undeniable warmth.
The disc-opening “Tangled Up in Blue” uncorks the feels via an experimental narrative that fights conventional linearity, but the reasons to keep listening are contained in the first 11 seconds of forward motion before Dylan’s voice enters. Only after that do lyrics even matter, and (on Blood on the Tracks, anyway) he is pretty fantastic at both. Blood on the Tracks is pleasing and complete enough to visit repeatedly, until the syllables become words, the words resolve into meanings, and all of it becomes internalized, a space accessible even without the presence of the album. Perhaps the least dated of Dylan’s recordings, there is a nakedness to everything. Untainted by the politics and cool of the ’60s or the gated drums and overdubbed productions of the ’80s, Blood on the Tracks hits with the same immediacy in the 21st century as it did in 1975. Just as much as or any other mid-’70s LP-minded artist, Dylan uses the studio to create and sustain a mood on Blood on the Tracks, and this mood is what survives. Drawing from two sets of sessions and at least three configurations of not-fully-identified musicians to capture a singular batch of songs, the album is a full package of writing, performance, and atmosphere.
Dylan Blood On The Tracks New York Sessions
Withdrawing an early version of the album on the eve of release, musicians from sessions in New York disappeared into the credit of “Eric Weissberg and Deliverance,” and musicians recorded later in Minneapolis received no credit at all. Though he received no separate title on the album itself, it is also the first album on which Dylan himself served as sole producer, assembling musicians on his own, sometimes to confusing effect.