Bob Dylan and The Band Prove the Basement Tapes Were Worth the Bootleg Wait — 9/10

The Basement Tapes is not a proper album. It is a leak that became a legend. Recorded in 1967 at a house called Big Pink, these sessions found Bob Dylan recovering from a motorcycle crash and writing songs with The Band that were never meant for release. The recordings circulated for years as bootlegs before Columbia finally assembled this 24-track, 77-minute document in 1975. It does not sound like a finished statement. It sounds like friends in a basement, which is exactly the point.

Odds and Ends to Million Dollar Bash

The record opens with “Odds and Ends,” a loose, throwaway blues that sets the tone. Nothing here is polished. “Orange Juice Blues (Blues for Breakfast)” is a hangover lament over rolling piano. “Million Dollar Bash” is the first real highlight, a goofy, communal singalong that feels like a party you were not invited to but somehow get to hear.

“Yazoo Street Scandal” and “Goin’ to Acapulco” stretch out, the latter a slow, weary travelogue with a gorgeous melody. “Katie’s Been Gone” is aching and simple. “Lo and Behold!” returns to Dylan’s wordplay, half-sung, half-mumbled, utterly charming.

Tears of Rage and the Middle Run

“Bessie Smith” is a quiet tribute, and “Clothes Line Saga” is a deadpan country narrative that sounds like a joke told very seriously. “Apple Suckling Tree” is nonsense that works. “Please, Mrs. Henry” is a bawdy blues.

Then comes “Tears of Rage,” the first of the record’s true masterpieces. Dylan’s words about inheritance and disappointment are carried by a devastating vocal. It is the most serious moment on the album, and it lands hard. “Too Much of Nothing” and “Yea! Heavy and a Bottle of Bread” keep the mood loose. “Ain’t No More Cane” is a traditional work song, and “Crash on the Levee (Down in the Flood)” is a rollicking warning that has aged into prophecy.

“Ruben Remus” and “Tiny Montgomery” are short, odd sketches. “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” is the other undeniable classic, a country waltz with a chorus so simple and so right that it has been covered endlessly.

Nothing Was Delivered, Homer, and the Finish

“Don’t Ya Tell Henry” is more blues. “Nothing Was Delivered” is a promise-breaker’s anthem, slow and funny. “Open the Door, Homer” is Dylan at his most absurd. “Long Distance Operator” is a blues shuffle with a sharp edge.

The record closes with “This Wheel’s on Fire,” a creeping, uneasy song that feels like the end of something. It is the right finish.

Verdict

The Basement Tapes is a historical document that happens to be great music. It is the missing link between Dylan’s electric rock and the country-tinged Americana that followed. It is also the sound of a great artist taking a breath.

The lesser tracks are sketches, but they are sketches by Bob Dylan and The Band. The great tracks — “Tears of Rage,” “This Wheel’s on Fire,” “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” “Nothing Was Delivered” — are as good as anything either party ever made.

It is messy, rambling, and occasionally silly. It is also essential.

9 of 10.

Key Facts

• Artist: Bob Dylan & The Band
• Release: 1975, compiled from 1967 sessions
• Tracks: 24
• Running time: 77 minutes

album review · Americana · Bob Dylan · classic rock · The Band · The Basement Tapes