Possible future projects :

Mentioned by "a source" (Jeff Rosen?) in an interview with "Rolling Stone" magazine (June 18, 2019)

1. The Bootleg Series Vol. 15: Nashville sessions 1967–1969
Scheduled for 2019. John Wesley Harding and Nashville Skyline sessions, including session with Johnny Cash in order to keep the latter from falling into the public domain in the EU.

Note: They have to do this in order to keep the public domain labels from flooding the EU market with the Cash material and if they throw in the John Wesley Harding sessions it will be an interesting set.

2. 1996/1997 Time Out Of Mind sessions
Tentatively planned for the 25th Anniversary of the album’s release in 2022.

Note: In 1996 Dylan recorded demos for what later became Time Out Of Mind with Ron Wood in Ireland. There are rumors that a covers album was recorded as a separate project before work began on Time Out Of Mind and that an early version of Time Out Of Mind was produced by Jim Dickinson. Then there are the loop-based experiments and early sessions in Oxnard in 1996 and finally the sessions in Miami in early 1997. Some of the sessions were filmed by Daniel Lanois' brother. Definitely a candidate for the full Bootleg Series treatment.

3. 1974 tour digital release
Before 2024 in order to keep the recordings from falling into the public domain in the EU.

Note: Despite what the source says, I think the 1974 tour warrants more than Before The Flood. It would be a good idea to remix the multitrack tapes from New York/Seattle/Oakland/Los Angeles for a "1974 Live Recordings" set similar to the 1966 and 1975 sets. The new mixes of the 1975 concerts are stunning and it would be nice to have the 1974 shows in similar quality, since Before The Flood has a very 1970s-style mix (especially on the keyboards and in the way they treated the ambient sound). Non-professional tapes from the tour could be released as a download bonus.

4. Pre-Columbia coffeehouse tapes
Working title "The Villager" according to September 27, 2018 article on rollingstone.com.

Note: The source thinks that interest among fans for this set is minimal. Well, it’s Dylan so of course it’s interesting, but no matter what Greenwich Village tapes they have they will probably be very similar to what has already been circulating for decades. The one pre-fame tape I would really love to hear is the Karen Wallace Tape from 1960, because the original tape has very good sound and it includes an unusual repertoire of songs from a period in Dylan’s career that is not well documented and thus could actually enhance people’s understanding of the man’s work.

5. 1983 Infidels sessions

Note: In an interview with Definitely Dylan (podcast from June 9, 2019) Michael Chaiken, curator of Tulsa’s Bob Dylan Archive, said that they have only recently managed to transfer the Infidels sessions. Infidels was one of the first rock music albums to have been recorded digitally and the material had to be extracted from an outdated 1980s digital format by specialists in California. 7 CDs worth of material from the sessions have been in circulation for many years, but it seems a large part of the sessions has not been heard by anybody since it was recorded in 1983, because of the outdated recording format. The known outtakes are fantastic (electric Blind Willie McTell, Julius And Ethel, Union Sundown – "man in the mask in the white house"-version!), the project includes some of Dylan’s greatest songs and who knows what’s on the newly transferred tapes?! Infidels should definitely receive the full Bootleg Series treatment.

6. 1985 Empire Burlesque sessions

Note: Many people would love to hear Empire Burlesque stripped off Arthur Baker’s mix. And they should extend this set to include the Band Of The Hand, Knocked Out Loaded and Hearts Of Fire sessions. I have always loved Dylan’s work from this period, there is a lot of great stuff (Angel Of Rain, Almost Done, Dirty Lies, Enough Is Enough, New Danville Girl, Freedom For The Stallion, To Fall In Love With You, Old Five And Dimers etc.) and I think this era is another candidate for the full Bootleg Series treatment. If they combine it with Infidels, they could create a box that would really open some people’s eyes and ears to the greatness of Dylan’s work from that period of time.

7. Collection of stray tracks (movie tracks, one-off tracks, rare tracks)

Note: Maybe they could also throw in some of the following stray outtakes …

Saved (Toronto 1980), Caribbean Wind (different version), Let’s Keep It Between Us [the most obvious omissions from BS 13]
God Knows (piano demo, presumably from 1989 Emlah Court sessions) [planned for BS 8: TTS, not released]
TV Talking Song (unrel. take 1990) [planned for BS 8: TTS, not released]
Polly Vaughn (Chicago sessions 1992) [planned for BS 8: TTS, not released]
Rise Again (Chicago sessions 1992) [planned for BS 8: TTS, not released]
Shake Sugaree (Time Out Of Mind outtake, Teatro, Oxnard 1996 or Criteria, Miami 1997) [planned for BS 8: TTS, not released]
Masked & Anonymous concert outtakes (2002-07-18, Stage 6, Ray-Art Studios, Canoga Park, CA) [audio and video]
Don't Think Twice, It's All Right (United We Swing outtake, recorded live in NYC in 2004)
My Own Love Song soundtrack (18 instrumentals, recorded at the Together Through Life sessions in 2008)
Vigilante Man (The People Speak outtake, recorded at the Malibu Performing Arts Center, Malibu, CA, 2009) [audio and video]

8. Possible future project: special Bootleg Series section on Spotify or Apple Music as Sony Music seems to want to withdraw from the market of physical releases

Note: I think there will always be a market for curated, boutique-type, physical releases of Dylan’s work.

Additional projects mentioned by the source in previous interviews with "Rolling Stone" magazine

- early 1980s ("the period between Shot Of Love and Infidels") (2018-09-27)
- Never-Ending Tour 1988–present (2017-09-25 + 2018-09-27)
- Desire sessions (2017-09-25)
- Hard Rain and other TV specials (2010-08-31 + 2014-01-23)
- 1978 tour (2014-01-23)
- Sydney 1986 ("Hard To Handle" concerts) (2014-01-23)
- Oh Mercy sessions (2015-09-24)
- Supper Club CD/DVD* (2010-08-31 + 2017-09-25)

*I think that the Supper Club recordings should stay in the vaults. Excellent quality soundboard tapes of all four shows are already circulating and are nice to have but the preceding electric shows in 1993 were much, much better concerts: London Finsbury Park, Milan, Gijon, La Coruna, Jones Beach first night, Holmdel, Hollywood Bowl – some of Dylan’s best shows. The acoustic version of that band really is an inferior incarnation of the greatness that was on display at the electric concerts.

[forums.stevehoffman.tv]

Lots to look forward to and hope for, and especially excited about this possibility:

"2. 1996/1997 Time Out Of Mind sessions
Tentatively planned for the 25th Anniversary of the album’s release in 2022.

Note: In 1996 Dylan recorded demos for what later became Time Out Of Mind with Ron Wood in Ireland. There are rumors that a covers album was recorded as a separate project before work began on Time Out Of Mind and that an early version of Time Out Of Mind was produced by Jim Dickinson. Then there are the loop-based experiments and early sessions in Oxnard in 1996 and finally the sessions in Miami in early 1997. Some of the sessions were filmed by Daniel Lanois' brother. Definitely a candidate for the full Bootleg Series treatment".

Nice.

_____________________________________________________________
Rip this joint, gonna save your soul, round and round and round we go......

I heard that Bob once did a session with NRBQ....would love to hear that.

"Possible future project: special Bootleg Series section on Spotify or Apple Music as Sony Music seems to want to withdraw from the market of physical releases." this would be a tragic mistake. the CD's sound 1000X times better than spotify.

[www.newyorker.com]

“Rolling Thunder Revue,” Reviewed: Martin Scorsese’s Slippery Chronicle of Bob Dylan in Concert

In January and February of 1974, Bob Dylan embarked on his first concert tour following an eight-year hiatus after a devastating motorcycle accident that he suffered in 1966. It was a reunion tour with the Band, commemorated in the double album “Before the Flood.” During that tour, Dylan set a theme that continues in his concerts to this day: he pulverized the familiar original arrangements and moods of his songs and made each performance seem like a musical re-creation. In the process, he made live performance itself seem like a radical act of self-reinvention.

The tour featured in Martin Scorsese’s new film about Dylan, “Rolling Thunder Revue” (released June 12th on Netflix and in theatres), took place more than a year and a half later, in late 1975, and marked an even greater step in that direction. This time, Dylan didn’t just reconfigure his music—he reconceived the very nature of a concert tour. He assembled the rock equivalent of a big band, made up of about a dozen musicians (with the prominent additions of the violinist Scarlet Rivera and the guitarist Mick Ronson), plus others who came along and performed—most significantly, Joan Baez—or who joined in during the tour, notably Joni Mitchell. Sam Shepard came, and so did the poets Allen Ginsberg, Anne Waldman, and Peter Orlovsky; they also took part in the performances. The group travelled by bus—Dylan himself did some of the driving—and a crew of documentary filmmakers, including Howard Alk, who had made two major documentaries in the late nineteen-sixties, “American Revolution 2” and “The Murder of Fred Hampton,” filmed the proceedings. In conjunction with the tour, Dylan also produced a collage-like movie, “Renaldo and Clara,” featuring some of the concert footage, in which he and his wife, Sara, played fictional characters (the title roles), and another musician on the tour, Ronnie Hawkins, played a character named Bob Dylan.

For the concert footage alone, Scorsese’s “Rolling Thunder Revue” is exhilarating and even essential viewing. (I’d estimate that about half of the movie, which runs two hours and twenty-two minutes, features musical performances by Dylan and others.) The shows reflected the carnivalesque tumult that surrounded them, and the musical reinvention was even more extreme than that of “Before the Flood.” The collaborations add distinctive new flavors to Dylan’s music (Rivera’s violin seems, all by itself, to turn the large group into an orchestra), and the musical reunion with Baez displays their exalted sense of shared artistic purpose.

Yet there’s much more to Scorsese’s film than the concerts, and not for the better. The film’s most tantalizing, frustrating elements are scenes of Dylan and the group in rehearsal, which are all too brief. It is as if Scorsese were illustrating the mere fact that they rehearsed rather than looking with any curiosity at the processes behind the group’s real-time development of musical ideas. By contrast, the most exciting scene in the film features Mitchell jamming on her song “Coyote” with Dylan and Roger McGuinn—rather, teaching it to them—in Gordon Lightfoot’s Toronto apartment; that impromptu performance continues in a tightrope walk of an unexpected, extended take that catches the miracle of spontaneous artistic inspiration.

The movie features some boilerplate historical contextualizing, using archival footage: the resignation of Richard Nixon, the attempted assassination of President Gerald Ford, the downtown Manhattan festivities for the Bicentennial, the fall of Saigon at the end of the Vietnam War. There are brief clips of Dylan gathering musicians at a special evening at Gerde’s Folk City, where he’d performed in the early sixties. (Patti Smith, who declined to join Dylan’s tour, performed that night.) But these bits of background have the paradoxical effect of seeming both too short and too long—too substantial to be merely illustrative, too evocative of a wide range of experiences to be plugged in as background.

“Rolling Thunder Revue” also features clips of Dylan now, in a new filmed interview conducted by his manager, Jeff Rosen (who’s also one of the film’s producers), in which the singer at first drolly attempts to deflect discussions of the tour. He jokes that he doesn’t remember it at all; he jokes that it happened so long ago that he “wasn’t even born.” He does offer a few jovial scraps of reminiscence throughout, and one wonders what would have happened if he had been interviewed by someone more confrontational. I can’t blame Dylan for his reticence—or for the decision to have the interview be conducted from the inside. It’s the reasonable response of someone who’s still moving forward—and resisting the mythology and the pull of his past glories, even as they’re still being celebrated, packaged, and commercialized. (A fourteen-CD set of the concert performances was released by Sony in conjunction with the film.)

“Rolling Thunder Revue” includes interviews, recent and archival, with many other people involved in the tour, and some of the sound bites provide welcome insights. Baez recalls her ambivalence about participating in the tour and describes the artistic freedom it offered her. Hawkins talks about the tour’s turbulence. Ginsberg speaks of poetry and politics, mythology and philosophy. Waldman discusses Ginsberg’s obsession with Dylan, and so does Dylan himself. The film also includes extended discussions with Rubin (Hurricane) Carter, a boxer who was wrongly convicted of murder and whom Dylan, writing and performing the song “Hurricane” (co-written by Jacques Levy), worked to free. Yet the inclusion of these interviews and archival materials amid the concert performances makes the film snippety and jumpy; the elbowed-in and overlaid bits of information have the over-all effect of reducing the extraordinary sequences of performance to mere interludes, as if in fear that the music isn’t sufficiently entertaining on its own or that viewers need the background stories supplied by factoids to connect with it. See, by comparison, “Amazing Grace,” Sydney Pollack’s exemplary 2018 film centered on two concerts by Aretha Franklin, which allows the wondrous archival footage to exist entirely on its own. And see Jody Rosen’s report in the Times this week—about a 2008 fire at the Universal archive in which a vast amount of master tapes and outtakes by such historic artists as Franklin, Baez, Chuck Berry, Louis Armstrong, and John Coltrane were definitively lost—for a reminder that the concert and rehearsal footage in “Rolling Thunder Revue” is a precious treasure, its very existence a sort of miracle.

There is a cliché that has regained currency with the release of Scorsese’s film: Bob Dylan the trickster, the slippery and malleable figure whose first trick may have been the pseudonym under which he made his fame. In “Rolling Thunder Revue,” Scorsese seems eager not only to highlight this side of Dylan but to participate in his tricks. Interspersed among the film’s authentic interviews, for instance, are mockumentary scenes that concoct fictional details about the tour. Martin von Haselberg plays the role of Stefan Van Dorp, a fictional director who is presented as responsible for filming the archival footage. The real-life movie executive Jim Gianopulos plays Jim Gianopulos, the (fictional) businessperson behind the tour. Sharon Stone plays herself and talks about her (fictitious) acquaintance with Dylan in the course of the tour. Dylan himself takes part in these games, referring on several occasions to Van Dorp’s and Stone’s presence and actions during the tour. Scorsese even places these characters amid the archival footage, dubbing the voice of Van Dorp into documentary sequences, blurring the historical record to match the fictional conceit.

There’s no intrinsic reason why this combination of documentary and fiction should be harmful or deceptive, any more than interventionist approaches to archival footage are intrinsically less valid than modest ones. The movie announces its playfulness with a remark from Dylan to the effect that a person is apt to tell the truth when wearing a mask and to lie without one. It opens with a clip from an 1896 film by Georges Méliès, the primordial filmmaker of special effects and onscreen magic. And the film’s arm’s-length approach in one sense serves an important purpose, extricating the music from the inevitably gossip-heavy stories of the road and the personal pain that went into them. (The marital crisis that Dylan and his wife, Sara, were confronting at the time was reflected in his song “Sara” and was featured in “Renaldo and Clara,” but is not addressed in “Rolling Thunder Revue.”)

But too often Scorsese seems to be joining Dylan in dancing delicately around the past. After seeing “Rolling Thunder Revue,” I watched “Renaldo and Clara” for the first time—and I wish I hadn’t, because its strengths only serve to highlight Scorsese’s failures. Dylan and Sara, as the fictional Renaldo and Clara—a couple whose relationship is thrown into turmoil by a visit from another woman, the so-called Woman in White (played by Baez)—perform in scenes of psychodramatic intensity and romantic anguish. “Renaldo and Clara” also features a remarkable set of concert performances from the Rolling Thunder tour—and Dylan (who edited the film with Alk) treats them with a finer and keener touch than Scorsese does. There are more concert images that capture the complex tension and synergy of a band at work, more of a sense of spontaneous wonder. The film—despite some conspicuous longueurs, slack performances, unkempt cinematography—is a passionate and relentless effort to connect the performances of music to the lives and activities with which they coincided. “Rolling Thunder Revue,” by contrast, is built around the desire to show something, to say something, to reveal something of Dylan’s process—but not too much. It’s not a doomed mission but it’s a delicate and a difficult one, and the project collapses under the weight of its contradictory goals and its scattershot strategies to meet them."
___________________________


Richard Brody began writing for The New Yorker in 1999 and has contributed articles about the directors François Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, and Wes Anderson. Since 2005, he has been the movie-listings editor at the magazine; he writes film reviews and a blog about movies. He is the author of the book “Everything Is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard” and is at work on a book about the French New Wave.
------------------------------------------------

Last paragraph is interesting in relation to Renaldo & Clara I thought;
especially his short description thereof; and all that in relation to
this review writer's also writing a book on Godard,
and whoooosh....there's the Stones connection as well; however wayward.
I wonder what Brody's take on "One Plus One" was...if anyone knows...



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 2019-06-21 04:36 by hopkins.

Will the real Dylan fans around here tell me I'm weird if I say that John Wesley Harding is my favourite of his albums ?

Quote
Spud
Will the real Dylan fans around here tell me I'm weird if I say that John Wesley Harding is my favourite of his albums ?

It's high up on my list as well

Quote
Spud
Will the real Dylan fans around here tell me I'm weird if I say that John Wesley Harding is my favourite of his albums ?

Love it! Dylan's answer to the psychedelic movement!

Bob Kicks off European Tour leg #2 in Bergen,Norway Tonight!!!! Catch him if you can!!!

I am late, but I finally got around to listen to the 14 CDs of Rolling Thunder Revue.

No doubt, that it features the most incredible thing recorded on tape, but I gotta say....it hurts me hearing Dylan that high. He should be in hospital, not on stage


Anyways, it's a magnifient box, and Rob Stoner is the best bass player of any band in any century, I hope we get a "1976 tour" box later, for Rob Stoner's sake

Quote
Erik_Snow
I am late, but I finally got around to listen to the 14 CDs of Rolling Thunder Revue.

No doubt, that it features the most incredible thing recorded on tape, but I gotta say....it hurts me hearing Dylan that high. He should be in hospital, not on stage


Anyways, it's a magnifient box, and Rob Stoner is the best bass player of any band in any century, I hope we get a "1976 tour" box later, for Rob Stoner's sake

Dylan was great in 75, high or not.

I saw him in Stockholm this wednesday. If you can, go see him. VERY good, and a big surprise was a beatiful (almost) solo Bob and piano performance of 'Girl from the North Country'. You can find it posted by someone on youtube (audio), despite the 'no photo' rule.
I admit I like this rule, I want to see the concert, not cell phones.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2019-06-30 00:38 by GeorgV.

.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2019-06-30 00:42 by GeorgV.

Quote
tomcasagranda

Quote
Erik_Snow
I am late, but I finally got around to listen to the 14 CDs of Rolling Thunder Revue.

No doubt, that it features the most incredible thing recorded on tape, but I gotta say....it hurts me hearing Dylan that high. He should be in hospital, not on stage


Anyways, it's a magnifient box, and Rob Stoner is the best bass player of any band in any century, I hope we get a "1976 tour" box later, for Rob Stoner's sake

Dylan was great in 75, high or not.

Dylan IS great



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2019-06-30 00:41 by GeorgV.

This story, posted June 11 just made the print edition today:

Bob Dylan, jailhouse phone calls and a movie from hell: My life with the Rolling Thunder Revue
By LARRY "RATSO" SLOMAN
JUN 11, 2019 | 10:05 AM


After graduating from Queens College in 1969, I went to graduate school in Madison, Wis., where I received a master’s in deviance and criminology. The degree came in handy when I returned to New York and started doing music journalism for Rolling Stone.

One day in October of 1974, I was walking down Fifth Avenue when I saw a guy sitting behind the wheel of his parked car. The guy was Bob Dylan. I had recently spied some papers on a publicist’s desk at Columbia Records so I knew that he was in town working on a secret project that would become “Blood on the Tracks.” I asked him if I could preview the album for Rolling Stone. “How do you know about the album?” he said accusingly. His distaste for the press was well known. I immediately switched the subject and told him that Phil Ochs was crashing on my couch. He warmed up and authorized the article.

Nine months later, there were Dylan sightings in Manhattan. He was recording a new album and was spearheading impromptu jams at the Other End cafe in the Village. One night after a meal in Chinatown, I convinced Roger McGuinn, one of the founders of the Byrds and a friend of Bob’s, to look into the rumor with me. When we reached the back of the bar, there in a corner, Dylan was surrounded by friends like the folk singer David Blue, theater director Jacques Levy and assorted others. Dylan jumped up and lunged to hug McGuinn, spilling most of the drinks on the table. “Hey Roger, we’re gonna go out on tour. Wanna come with us?” When I reintroduced myself to Bob, he said, “I heard you’re doing an article on Hurricane Carter,” the boxer who had been convicted of murder in New Jersey by an all-white jury. We talked a bit, then he leaned in. “You wanna go on the road with us and cover the tour?” Uh, yeah.

That was the impromptu way the Rolling Thunder tour coalesced. Dylan assembled the musicians from the band that played on the “Desire” sessions, but then Bob’s old running mate Bob Neuwirth added some wild cards to the mix, like guitarist Mick Ronson. Ramblin’ Jack Elliott, Woody Guthrie’s pal and a mentor of sorts to Bob, came along. Ronee Blakley, who would soon earn an Oscar nomination for her work in Robert Altman’s “Nashville,” signed on. And co-headlining the tour was Dylan’s old flame Joan Baez.

In some ways, the Revue was a reaction to Bob’s 1974 tour with The Band, when he had toured for the first time since 1966, playing hockey arenas across the country. “I got kind of held up on that tour,” Dylan told me. “I wasn’t really in control of the situation. We were just shuffled around from airport to limo to hotel lobby to hockey rinks.” Now, with his old summer camp pal Louie Kemp managing the tour, Bob could enjoy himself on the road again. And he didn’t have to worry about airports and limos. We'd be traveling by bus with Dylan, driving a small camper, in the lead.

Early on, the tour was playing intimate venues, giving it an old-timey feel. A show would open with songs by Neuwirth, Ramblin’ Jack, Ronee, McGuinn and Ronson. Then Dylan closed the first set. After an intermission, two voices could be heard from behind a curtain. That curtain slowly lifted, revealing the spectacle of Baez and Dylan reunited, a scene that elicited actual gasps from the audience.

But this was not your typical gypsy musical caravan. For one, foremost in Dylan’s mind was the plight of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, the boxer imprisoned in New Jersey. Dylan and Jacques Levy had written a powerful song about this injustice called “Hurricane” that Bob played every night. And thanks to the fabled ad man George Lois, who spearheaded a celebrity campaign to free Rubin, the boxer had been moved to a minimum-security prison, where Lois procured him not one but two telephone lines. We called Rubin almost nightly before the show would start; half the time he’d put us on hold while he finished up another call.

Adding to the import of the tour was the presence of Allen Ginsberg, the counterculture’s poet laureate. Allen wrote a daily poem for the tour newsletter, bounded up onstage to play finger cymbals during the finale and provided running commentary for anyone in earshot. I spent many a night with Allen in the stands, listening to the music and hearing sage comments like, “Dylan has the authority of an emperor of sound!” Or, after one particularly blistering set, “It’s the vision of the ’60s becoming real. I’ve been crying.”

As if there wasn’t already enough variety, there was an open spot left in every city so that any musical colleague who came to that show could perform. Joni Mitchell showed up in New Haven, Conn., and stayed for the rest of the tour. “I stayed up three days in a row at one point, wandering around the room, and there was music going and I’d still be dancing,” Joni told me. “I didn’t want to miss anything!”

Rick Danko and Robbie Robertson joined a show, along with Gordon Lightfoot, who performed in his native Toronto. Then there was Leonard Cohen. Bob was anxious to have Leonard come to the Montreal show, so he had me call him from the hotel pay phone while he tugged on my arm. When I picked up Leonard the night of the show and we entered the backstage area, he was immediately greeted by Joni, Neuwirth, Ronee and then Dylan. “Hey Leonard, you gonna sing?” I pleaded. “Let it be known that I alone disdained the obvious support,” Leonard declared. “I’m going to sit out there and watch.”

One visitor who didn’t just sit and watch was Bob’s mom, Beatty Zimmerman. Energetic, brash, silver-haired and outgoing, she joined the tour in Maine and made an impact from hour one. She dispensed Jewish-mother wisdom and chicken soup, as well as song reviews (after hearing “Hurricane” she put her fist to her heart and said, “It leaves you weak”). A few nights later, Beatty joined her son onstage and danced during the finale.

Meanwhile, I was having troubles on the road. Louie Kemp had imposed some harsh rules on me. I was now “press” so I couldn’t stay at the same hotel as the group, half of whom I was friends with. I had to make appointments to talk to the performers.

If that wasn’t enough, I was getting heat from my editors at Rolling Stone. A few weeks into the tour, the Revue started playing larger venues and the ticket price increased by a dollar. My editor wanted to know where all the money was going. “But that’s not what the kids want to read,” I pleaded. “How do you know?” he countered. “I know kids,” I exploded over the phone.

Nevertheless, I woke Dylan up in his hotel room. “They want you to respond to the fact that the first 11 shows grossed $600,000,” I said.

“So what does Elton John charge?” Dylan shot back. “It don’t concern me what those people say. They are the establishment.”

Baez echoed the same sentiment. “Tell them to shove it up their asses,” she fumed. “It makes no difference if we played to 15 people or 15,000.”

As if putting on some of the most incendiary performances of his life every night wasn’t enough, Dylan, along with cinematographer Howard Alk and three small film crews, was shooting footage in every town on the tour for a film that was to become “Renaldo and Clara.” Sam Shepard had been hired to write a script, but Dylan invariably tossed his prepared dialogue and went for improvised scenes. One day Ginsberg came up with the idea of Dylan as an alchemist rediscovering America, so they shot a scene with Dylan in a diner trying to transmute crackers, ketchup, pie, coffee and milk into gold.


When Bob’s wife Sara joined the tour in Niagara, and later when actors Harry Dean Stanton and Helena Kallianiotes came aboard, the emphasis of the film shifted from a documentary format to a more mythic presentation. Dylan relied on intuition to map out the scenes of the film, much to the chagrin of Shepard. Everyone else happily went with the flow. But Dylan didn’t take every idea to heart. Mel Howard, the film’s producer, conveyed an idea from Ginsberg.

“Ginsberg wants to do a scene with you, Bob, acting out one of his fantasies,” Mel said. “He wants to shoot this scene where you and he are waking up together in the morning, this real tender aftermath scene.”

Dylan just rolled his eyes.

That footage was never shot, but hundreds of hours were. We finished the concerts in Montreal and then drove back to New York, stopping on the way to play for Rubin and his jail mates and then finishing up with a sold-out benefit for him at Madison Square Garden. For most of the musicians, it was the highlight of their careers.

In fact, no one wanted to leave New York after the tour ended. So we went to a succession of parties, including a boring affair at Norman Mailer’s apartment in Brooklyn Heights. But mostly, we hung around the Other End, where it all began. Bob, McGuinn and I were sitting at a table in the back, the same one where Bob had invited us on the tour a few months earlier. Everyone was pretty blitzed, so we were content to listen to the jukebox. Until three Byrds songs came on in succession.

“Hey McGuinn, you didn’t do your best songs on this tour, man,” Dylan snarled.

But then, as if by magic, Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” came on the jukebox. I looked over at Dylan, and he had pulled his hat over his face and downed another shot.

“Hey, schmuck,” I said. “Listen to this. You didn’t do your best songs on this tour either.”

Dylan wound up releasing “Renaldo and Clara” to very mixed reviews in January 1978. Clocking in at almost four hours long, it was savaged by the critics; one Village Voice reviewer started his review with “I wish Bob Dylan died…” It lasted for a few weeks in the theaters and has rarely been screened since then.


But now we have “Rolling Thunder Revue: A Bob Dylan Story by Martin Scorsese.” Using footage from “Renaldo and Clara,” plus tour outtakes and contemporary interviews, Scorsese has hit on the major themes of the tour: the spirit of America just before the bicentennial; the attempt to redress injustice toward Rubin Carter; the conflict between the musical and the mercantile; and the ability of artists to subsume their egos for a greater collective good. For fans of tour documentaries, this is the genre’s apotheosis. It’s Renaldo and Clara without Renaldo and Clara.

The Rolling Thunder Revue did one more leg, but Dylan has never stopped touring. He hinted at that to me after the Madison Square Garden show. “Why tour? I think that’s what I have to do. It’s in my blood. I’ll be available. People can see me in person all over the world. This tour ain’t gonna stop.”

There’s a scroll at the end of the Scorsese film that documents every date that Dylan has played on his Never Ending tour since Rolling Thunder. Suffice it to say, it’s a very, very long scroll.



Larry “Ratso” Sloman is the author of 12 books including his first, “On the Road With Bob Dylan.” His debut album, “Stubborn Heart,” was released in April.



[www.latimes.com]

looking forward to the bootleg series stuff of time out of mind and the late 1960's country sessions

Quote
keefriffhard4life
looking forward to the bootleg series stuff of time out of mind

available since 2008: [en.wikipedia.org]

Highly recommended.

Quote
TooTough

Quote
keefriffhard4life
looking forward to the bootleg series stuff of time out of mind

available since 2008: [en.wikipedia.org]

Highly recommended.

Yes essential, but I believe he's referring to all of this which was posted by dcba at the top of this page:

"2. 1996/1997 Time Out Of Mind sessions
Tentatively planned for the 25th Anniversary of the album’s release in 2022.

Note: In 1996 Dylan recorded demos for what later became Time Out Of Mind with Ron Wood in Ireland. There are rumors that a covers album was recorded as a separate project before work began on Time Out Of Mind and that an early version of Time Out Of Mind was produced by Jim Dickinson. Then there are the loop-based experiments and early sessions in Oxnard in 1996 and finally the sessions in Miami in early 1997. Some of the sessions were filmed by Daniel Lanois' brother. Definitely a candidate for the full Bootleg Series treatment".

_____________________________________________________________
Rip this joint, gonna save your soul, round and round and round we go......

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Hairball

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TooTough

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keefriffhard4life
looking forward to the bootleg series stuff of time out of mind

available since 2008: [en.wikipedia.org]

Highly recommended.

Yes essential, but I believe he's referring to all of this which was posted by dcba at the top of this page:

"2. 1996/1997 Time Out Of Mind sessions
Tentatively planned for the 25th Anniversary of the album’s release in 2022.

Note: In 1996 Dylan recorded demos for what later became Time Out Of Mind with Ron Wood in Ireland. There are rumors that a covers album was recorded as a separate project before work began on Time Out Of Mind and that an early version of Time Out Of Mind was produced by Jim Dickinson. Then there are the loop-based experiments and early sessions in Oxnard in 1996 and finally the sessions in Miami in early 1997. Some of the sessions were filmed by Daniel Lanois' brother. Definitely a candidate for the full Bootleg Series treatment".

yes i was talking about what was mentioned in the post by dcba. i have the bootleg vol 8 already

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tomcasagranda

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Erik_Snow
I am late, but I finally got around to listen to the 14 CDs of Rolling Thunder Revue.

No doubt, that it features the most incredible thing recorded on tape, but I gotta say....it hurts me hearing Dylan that high. He should be in hospital, not on stage


Anyways, it's a magnifient box, and Rob Stoner is the best bass player of any band in any century, I hope we get a "1976 tour" box later, for Rob Stoner's sake

Dylan was great in 75, high or not.

You're stating the obvious

It's a joy to listen to

Fact is, every era of Bob has something great within it.

To paraphrase his lyrics "The finishing end is not at hand", as he seems to "keep on keeping on".

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TooTough

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keefriffhard4life
looking forward to the bootleg series stuff of time out of mind

available since 2008: [en.wikipedia.org]

Highly recommended.

Yes Yes Yes. I second that. Highly recommended. Love the alternate versions of
"Mississippi" and "Girl From The Red River Shore" is worth the price alone.

Bob Dylans concert in Mainz last night was very good. His voice was strong. The band has become smaller, Stu Kimball is gone. "Can't wait" was a highlight.Dylan seems to be in very good shape. It would be nice if he would leave a little more space to his brilliant band.

One of the treats watching the Scorcese doc on Rolling Thunder was seeing Mick Ronson, one of the most fantastic British guitarists of the 70s.

Any thoughts why he isn´t releasing a live album, he´s on a never-ending-tour for decades now and he never has released one, very strange, isn´t it.

He just released a 3 box CD set with live recordings: [en.wikipedia.org]–_The_Rolling_Thunder_Revue:_The_1975_Live_Recordings

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Koen
He just released a 3 box CD set with live recordings: [en.wikipedia.org]–_The_Rolling_Thunder_Revue:_The_1975_Live_Recordings

I meant some... more recent live recordings

[www.independent.co.uk]

"Neil Young and Bob Dylan review, BST Hyde Park: Age was defeated at shiver-inducing double bill"

A shiver runs down the spine as the first notes of Neil Young’s guitar open this double bill of towering musical geniuses (with Bob Dylan to follow). “Well, I saw an old man walkin’ in my place,” are the first words Young sings. The 73-year-old wrote them nearly 30 years ago for the album Ragged Glory. Ninety minutes later, as he faces into the wind, not especially steady-legged, wisps of hair blowing behind him as he plays “Like a Hurricane”, age has been defeated, time itself denied.

He walks on with his band, Promise of the Real, and they proceed to kick it like Crazy Horse. They can be in harmony or make a racket, play quiet or very loud, but they always feel loose, even dirty. Occasionally they meet and face each other in a huddle, Young with his back to the audience, four heads down, jerking in rhythm, like vultures at a kill.

Young’s guitar is never quiet. Sometimes between songs it gives off a subdued radioactive hum, sometimes it won’t let the last song go, sometimes its teeth chatter and it snarls, as if readying to attack. And then suddenly it’s alive again, full of warmth and power, bending and sparkling, improvising, reinventing his songs afresh – from “Winterlong” to “Throw Your Hatred Down”.

His voice? It was never much of a voice to begin with – a thin, plaintive, reedy thing that soughs with melancholy and yearning. But the years have passed over it, leaving it untouched, and when Young sings “Oh-oh Alabama”, it still clutches at your heart. As he plays “From Hank to Hendrix”, tears are smeared over the cheekbones of two women close by me, generations apart.

His set sticks mostly to the Seventies and the Nineties, drawing heavily on Harvest and Ragged Glory (perhaps presaging the promised Ragged Glory 2 of songs from the original sessions) but some of its highlights fall outside those dates, such as “I’ve Been Waiting for You” from his 1968 debut, and a fearsome version of “Rockin’ in the Free World”.

The grizzled man at the piano in a wide-brimmed hat looks like Dylan... (Rex)
Young eschews “Hey Hey, My My” and “Harvest Moon” for an encore that ends with him embarking briefly on “Roll Another Number (For the Road)”, then stopping. “We’re supposed to be done,” he says, before gunning up the band for a punk thrash finale of “Piece of Crap” from Sleeps with Angels (1994). Contrary as ever, Neil Young is far from done.

Crowd listens to Bob Dylan perform at BST Hyde Park 2019
Dylan isn’t so much a disappointment as a distant memory. The grizzled man at the piano in a wide-brimmed hat looks like Dylan, but when he plays, he’s almost unrecognisable from the artist who created so many songs of such majesty and wit. All those great love songs… here he sings “Make You Feel My Love” as though he’s forgotten what love is. Somewhere inside the thing he plays that begins “Once upon a time you dressed so fine” is the song that changed the course of music, but I’m damned if I can hear it. The voice isn’t gone, as such, it’s just that there’s no discernible heart in it. Dylan seems emotionally absent, locked inside the “Never Ending Tour” he has been on for more than three decades. He’s 78 now. He should probably stop.

Young’s guitar is never quiet. Sometimes between songs it gives off a subdued radioactive hum, sometimes it won’t let the last song go, sometimes its teeth chatter and it snarls, as if readying to attack. And then suddenly it’s alive again, full of warmth and power, bending and sparkling, improvising, reinventing his songs afresh – from “Winterlong” to “Throw Your Hatred Down”.

His voice? It was never much of a voice to begin with – a thin, plaintive, reedy thing that soughs with melancholy and yearning. But the years have passed over it, leaving it untouched, and when Young sings “Oh-oh Alabama”, it still clutches at your heart. As he plays “From Hank to Hendrix”, tears are smeared over the cheekbones of two women close by me, generations apart.

His set sticks mostly to the Seventies and the Nineties, drawing heavily on Harvest and Ragged Glory (perhaps presaging the promised Ragged Glory 2 of songs from the original sessions) but some of its highlights fall outside those dates, such as “I’ve Been Waiting for You” from his 1968 debut, and a fearsome version of “Rockin’ in the Free World”.

Young eschews “Hey Hey, My My” and “Harvest Moon” for an encore that ends with him embarking briefly on “Roll Another Number (For the Road)”, then stopping. “We’re supposed to be done,” he says, before gunning up the band for a punk thrash finale of “Piece of Crap” from Sleeps with Angels (1994). Contrary as ever, Neil Young is far from done.

Dylan isn’t so much a disappointment as a distant memory. The grizzled man at the piano in a wide-brimmed hat looks like Dylan, but when he plays, he’s almost unrecognisable from the artist who created so many songs of such majesty and wit. All those great love songs… here he sings “Make You Feel My Love” as though he’s forgotten what love is. Somewhere inside the thing he plays that begins “Once upon a time you dressed so fine” is the song that changed the course of music, but I’m damned if I can hear it. The voice isn’t gone, as such, it’s just that there’s no discernible heart in it. Dylan seems emotionally absent, locked inside the “Never Ending Tour” he has been on for more than three decades. He’s 78 now. He should probably stop."
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Watch Neil Young and Bob Dylan perform hit-filled sets at Hyde Park
Read more at [www.nme.com]

Whilst the two didn’t take to the stage together as many anticipated, each delivered a set of fan-favourites, with Young performing faithful renditions of classics like ‘Heart of Gold’ and ‘Like A Hurricane.’
Dylan, meanwhile, largely re-worked most of his classic songs including ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ and ‘Highway 61 Revisited’. Whilst there were mixed reactions to some of the covers, many fans enjoyed the versions.
“I’ve never played in daylight before,” Young joked, who appeared on stage ahead of Dylan, adding: “it’s great to see everybody.”
Famous fans watching the two included Noel Gallagher and Jarvis Cocker. You can see footage and fan reaction of both Young and Dylan’s sets below."
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hopkins
The grizzled man at the piano in a wide-brimmed hat looks like Dylan, but when he plays, he’s almost unrecognisable from the artist who created so many songs of such majesty and wit.

Dylan would take it as a majestic compliment since he's a man who's constantly reinvented himself and has constantly tried to escape from the self he had just created...