BOB DYLAN
No Direction Home: The Soundtrack
Columbia Legacy
Bob Dylan's recordings have been strip-mined more than any other artist of the rock era. For those keeping count, No Direction Home is Vol. 7 of his Bootleg Series. It's a two-disc companion to the same-titled Martin Scorcese film chronicling Zim's rise from high-schooler in Hibbing, Minn. to the point in 1966 where he stirred controversy by going electric.
The 28 tracks include the expected mix of alternate takes, demos and live versions, with most of his early iconic songs presented in one fashion or other. Although true Dylan rarities are becoming increasingly rare, the one here that comes closest to treasure status is a previously unreleased alternate take of "Mr. Tambourine Man," featuring Ramblin' Jack Elliott on backup vocals.
No Direction Home is essentially divided in two: Disc One features Dylan's strummy stuff, which will be manna for fans of his folkie period; virtually all of the songs feature him on vocals, acoustic guitar and harmonica. The more exciting material is found on Disc Two, where Dylan starts to expand his sonic palette. Track 2 is the famous electric version of "Maggie's Farm" that turned the Newport Folk Festival upside down in '65. Dylan and his band play angry, punctuated by Michael Bloomfield's wailing blues guitar solos. Another highlight is a grinding slow blues version of "Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat" (featuring Bloomfield and Al Kooper on organ).
The set concludes with two songs from the tumultuous European tour that Dylan undertook with The Band. On the riveting "Ballad of a Thin Man," Mickey Jones had replaced drummer Levon Helm, who'd left the tour, tired of being pounded by boos night after night. Garth Hudson's swirling organ fills provide punchy accents to Dylan's forceful vocals. Finally, there's the famous "Like a Rolling Stone" romp in Manchester that begins with someone from the crowd shouting "Judas!" — to which Dylan responds, "I don't believe you … You're a LIAR."
Forty years on, it comes off as a quaint curio, especially because Dylan needed to grow past his protest singer stage in order to become a fully formed, important and legendary artist. 4 stars
— ERIC SNIDER
Quit +/or Fight
HOLOPAW
Sub Pop
This Gainesville quintet's self-titled 2003 debut blended rootsy strings, inventive keyboard atmosphere and singer-songwriter John Orth's plaintive, otherworldly voice into an intimate, unforgettable whole. The follow-up sounds even smaller and more fragile, and less idiosyncratic as well — while there are still plenty of interesting (and interestingly applied) sounds hidden within the deceptively sparse arrangements, the disparate elements of Holopaw's music are much more comfortably joined here. The resulting whole comes off as a far more straightforward hip-Americana record than its predecessor, which isn't to say that it's not enthralling and imaginative, just a little less surprising, and a tad disappointing for it. 3.5 stars
— SCOTT HARRELL
Back to the World
STREET DOGS
Brass Tacks
Former Dropkick Murphys singer Mike McColgan's Street Dogs return with a sophomore album full of familiar punk 'n' roll riffs, "whoa-oh-ohs," and lyrics about both character and characters. Despite the band's obvious earnestness, however, Back to the World rarely transcends the generic, and when it does, it's as often to make mistakes like the dubby intro to "Stagger" as to rise above with standouts like the blazing "Drink Tonight." They're more melodic than your average street-punk act, but in the end, that use of pop-punk clichés — however revved-up — hurts Street Dogs more than it helps. (www.brasstacksrecords.com) HH
— SCOTT HARRELL
The Big Express
XTC
Caroline
There have been a lot of pretenders to the title of "Best Post-Beatles Beatles Band," but none come closer to deserving it than Swindon, England's idiosyncratic college radio fave, XTC. The Big Express lies in a British pop-and-psychedelia valley between the group's breakout disc English Settlement and the later international hit single, "Dear God." Skip the ill-conceived Police rip-off "This World Over" and instead dive into Andy Partridge's skewed view of U.K. village life — he called the disc "an iron opera" — in songs like "(The Everyday Story of) Smalltown," "All You Pretty Girls" and "Seagulls Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her." Best cut: bassist Colin Moulding's haunting "I Remember the Sun."
— Wayne Garcia
This article appears in Sep 21-27, 2005.