Customer Reviews

Self Portrait [Vinyl]

5 star:		(35)
4 star:		(31)
3 star:		(11)
2 star:		(5)
1 star:		(12)

 

 

The first time I heard this album I nearly laughed myself unconscious. I had recently seen "Don't Look Back" in which Dylan gives surrealistic and absurd press conferences, makes fun of Donovan, and pretty much shows he's not your conventional performer. Then I heard the opening notes of "All the Tired Horses" and I was pretty sure that this album was in the same league as the "Oh! I though you'd ask me about the lightbulb" or "I consider myself a song and dance man" press conference clips from "Don't Look Back." I laughed and laughed, played it for friends, who usually didn't understand what I found funny, and more or less made up my mind that this album represented Dylan giving the middle finger to his fans. For some strange reason that belief endeared the album to me.

Years later, when I finally opened enough musically to appreciate Dylan's "country phase" (beginning with, roughly, "John Wesley Harding" and roughly ending with this album) I now think about this album very differently, and I actually enjoy listening to it, with the exception of a few tracks.

Dylan's first decade was spent continually changing styles. The "protest singers" hugged him to their bosoms until "Another Side of Bob Dylan" and then became violently offended when he completely ditched the protest scene, went electric and didn't seem to care what they thought. Simultaneously, an entire new scene opened up to him with "Like A Rolling Stone." Now Dylan was cool, and cooler than could ever be imagined. He was on the pop charts and in the spotlight. The fans at the time probably thought that Dylan had found himself and looked forward to years and years of the same kind of thing. But he unexpectedly turned coat on the "cool rock" scene as well and dove head first into its seeming "uncool" antithesis: country music. The rock fans must have felt a similar betrayal that the "folkies" did when Dylan went electric. On top of it, Dylan didn't seem to care what they thought, and he again put his career on the line.

Looking back at over 30 albums it's a little clearer what Dylan was up to. He refused to be typecast or set into one musical genre to die a slow musical death of sameness. Most of his fans probably didn't appreciate this, but it makes Dylan one of the most challenging musical figures of the 20th century. This spirit is alive and well in "Self-Portrait."

"Self-Portrait" has some very good songs on it: "Alberta", "Little Sadie", "I Forgot More than You'll Ever Know", "Early Mornin' Rain", etc. If you appreciate Dylan's "country phase" you will like this album. It is uneven and confusing at times, but it was supposedly meant to be an "official bootleg" - Dylan was tired of hearing his unreleased songs on unofficial bootlegs, so he thought he'd do one of his own. The feel of the album in general is completely consistent with this concept.

There are a few confusing numbers: the live version of "Like A Rolling Stone" is sloppy and taken from an obvious "off" night(Dylan even forgets the lyrics). "The Boxer" (a song apparently about Dylan) is hilarious, as well as "Blue Moon" and "Wigwam." These could be the result of either Dylan's sense of humor (he may have wanted to slap Paul Simon back for "The Boxer") or of experimentation (he had to have experimented a lot when changing musical styles).

By far the most confusing (and hilarious) part of the album is the cover and sleeve art (which is lost somewhat in the CD booklet - the original LP had a full color gatefold sleeve): Dylan looking up in the sky like a bird just defecated on him, Dylan kneeling down beside a chicken, Dylan posing by a road sign with strong emphasis on the road sign. Are these pictures even worth analyzing?

The answer to the question: "Is this album a joke?" is probably both yes and no. In some ways it is, and in others it is not. It is definitely challenging (because there are so many ways to interpret what Dylan may have been up to). It contains very good and underrated music. It also contains the spirit of the Albert Hall concert of 1966, though fans who liked that concert probably hated "Self Portrait." Dylan was again changing, and he didn't care what we all thought about it. "Self Portrait" is further evidence of Dylan's unrelenting mission to remain undefined or pigeon-holed into being a one-trick pony.

I'll tell you, Rolling Stone Magazine. This s*@t is the epoch of Dylan's great run of 1960s albums. The thing is, hippies and the critics at the time hated this album. And why? Because Dylan wasn't being overtly existential or singing songs that were socially relevant. Heck, many of them were covers! How dare he!? How dare he not be fashionable!? Paul McCartney's wonderful RAM album suffered a similar condemnation. Apparently, the squarest thing you could do at the break of the 1970s was just make well constructed, exceedingly pleasant music to listen to. I mean, why LISTEN to music when you can sit around, passing a joint, and decipher it with your college boy friends? The fact that an album as good-natured, human and sublime as SELF PORTRAIT couldn't bring a smile to these hippies and critics proves there was something missing in them...and NOT in Dylan. This IS a self portrait of the artist at the time: Showing all his different sides and moods. There are lush orchestrated experiments in minimalism ("All The Tired Horses", "Wigwam"), NASHVILLE SKYLINE style country tunes ("I Forget More Than You'll Ever Know", "Take Me As I Am"), campfire folk songs ("Alberta"), hillbilly knee-slappers ("Little Sadie"), boogie-woogie jams ("Woogie Boogie"), sweet soulful ballads ("Let It Be Me", "Belle Isle"), gospel strutting R&B ("Gotta Travel On"), and live cuts that aren't "lifeless" by any means ("The Mighty Quinn (Quinn The Eskimo)"). In short, it's a musical landscape in the shape of America. This was Dylan just being a musician in the purest sense. But I guess all his so-called fans and the music press didn't really like the SOUND of Dylan or his music. They simply liked the IDEA of his music. When they were left to hear Dylan croon "Blue Moon" they couldn't process that. It didn't compute. Why would Dylan just sing a nice little song he liked? Because he was a SINGER and he liked the song. And by this point, Dylan was a very expressive vocalist. They didn't call them covers when Sinatra or Elvis did them. Bob Dylan was an entertainer. This was what he was saying with SELF PORTRAIT. He was a song & dance man. A traveling hobo with a guitar and a tall tale. A man that looked up at the big blue sky and took a breath of air. A balladeer, a vanguard, a clown...a brilliant genius child. It's as Dylan as Dylan gets. I'll take "Wigwam" over any dated protest song any day of the week. Because what you get with "Wigwam" and the other songs on SELF PORTRAIT is the pure joy of music.

It's ironic that most of the albums the public chooses to label as the "worst ever recorded" are often made by those who are acclaimed giants in the music world; like John Lennon and Yoko Ono's "Unfinished Music" sound collages, or Creedence Clearwater Revival's underrated, hated "Mardi Gras." And like a majority of albums critics hate, Bob Dylan's "Self Portrait" actually turns out to be a very worthy listen, even if it takes a few listens to get used to for the average Dylan fan.

Released as a double album in 1970, "Self Portrait" was condemned by both reviewers and fans, who were shocked that the spokesman of their generation had not lived up to their standards. But if a performer can release a record that is regarded as a pitiful disappointment after a decade of publicly-embraced masterpieces, but with a grin on his face while doing it, it's not such a bad thing--the album saw critics claiming Dylan had somehow turned his back on his principles and was indulging in a "commercialization" of his music; critic Ralph Gleason even called for a boycott of Dylan's albums. But the bottom line was that Dylan was fed up with being hailed as a leader; in a biography by Anthony Scaduto, Dylan was quoted about this era: "I wasn't going to fall for that, for being any kind of leader...and because I wanted out, they all started to rap me." And that's the goal that makes this album so enjoyable. Didn't he tell us not to follow leaders in the first place?

The title suggests that "Self Portrait" will resemble some kind of personal diary, but rather it's more of a curio, featuring some lesser known original material, a few ragged live cuts with The Band from the Isle of Wight festival, and covers of songs by the likes of the Everly Brothers, Simon & Garfunkel, and the equally brilliant singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot. The album often finds Dylan in a musical limbo--there's pieces of his folk period, his rock period and even his country period; it's almost like he can't decide which style would be best to use, so he employs them all. Strings and overdubbed vocals tread through the album. There's even that honky-tonk voice that first appeared on "Nashville Skyline" that comes straight from Dylan's nasal tones--it sounds like a mix of the voices of Warren Zevon, Hank Williams Jr., and Supertramp's Rick Davies. But it's an enjoyable voice nonetheless, and Dylan offers some very good music; songs that resemble the "Basement Tapes" like 'Woogie Boogie' or 'Little Sadie' add a loose feeling that suggests Dylan wanted to have as much fun as he could, knowing "Self-Portrait" would be despised. Despite any bizarreness, the album is packed full of fine moments like 'Days of 49,' the absolutely delightful 'Bell Isle,' and infamously dogged covers of 'Early Morning Rain,' 'The Boxer,' 'Blue Moon,' 'Let it Be Me,' and an exquisite if eyebrow-raising version of 'I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know.'

Consider it as Bob Dylan's own experience of "Stage Fright;" his former backing group The Band released the album of that name the same year, their reaction to the dregs of being made a public figure. But it only took them two years to reach that disdain, while if Dylan had taken ten to reach his, it certainly didn't show until in shocking confrontational form when "Self Portrait" was released.

"Self Portrait" may always be recognized only as an infamously disappointing release, but it's actually one more reason to ignore the widely accepted opinion. "Self Portrait" is more of a statement than most people choose to recognize; Bob Dylan wanted desperately to discourage those who saw him as a prophet. And that's not a bad reason to make an album if you think about it.

Bob Dylan, a songwriter and trolly humpin' good country artist! If you are any kind of "FAN" of Bob's, you should really like this one. Great country from an artist not yet out of his prime and infact still awaiting the true mercurial God-personified-who all the golden children whished and hoped for.

I believe that people will debate every Beatles, Beach Boys, and Bob Dylan(Huh, they all start with B's...hm...well isn't that funny, hm) for every chatroom and blog on the entirety of the internet. Forever.

Yet what is most profound about this one is, well, Why? Well, I'll give you my best answer as some kind of musicologist. His Family! You Blockheads! His Family! You see, Rob Zimmerman was getting hounded by the worst of the late 60's flower babies every day in woodstock, and whereever else he went with his wife. Prophets, and the most ambiguous psuedo-philosophes any circus owner could find at the time were reading his address on bathroom walls and making exodus for his house where he was trying to raise his child. That would annoy anyone to the point of moving, and sadly in the end, divorce. Even his old girlfriend from way back in Greenwich village, New York; Joan Baez was calling him out in songs to come take hold of the whole generation-revolution-movement.

Bob Dylan didn't want any of that for he had kids, a wife, and he had come from traditional roots of Minnesota and the 50's. Where his loyalty lay was with family. Bob even points to this in his new book Chronicles: "I was determined to put myself beyond the reach of it all. I was a family man now, didn't want to be in that group portrait."

It can be argued that the last words about "group portrait" reflect upon his Self Portrait album. Rather than him wanting to be part of that "portrait"(view, focus) of people(society, golden children), he wanted the portrait, or his life, to belong to him, and he belonged to his family. Dylan has always summed himself up as not belonging to those "people", that, while he is modest, one belongs to oneself. In my own opinion, he saw some deep ignorance in these people. I bet he saw that the apple does not fall far from the tree, and those "evil" congressmen and "The Man" were only hereditary to all the flower babies. I think he just wanted to write songs for the heck of it, yet occasionally that entails writing for the hero.

It's for sure, though, that this album served its purpose better than, maybe, a twist of style. Nashville skyline was to truly diverge from those "out of this world" poem-songs and all that electronic heroism. Yet some still were looking for that shadowy and mysterious Dylan train come with gold and sapphire for the truly faithful in the "Bob Dylan regime".

Self Portrait made it seem like he just didn't have it anymore for those stand up and refuse yourself songs. It sure is sweet country, though! Not NEARLY as good as Nashville Skyline which you should also buy. I mean, just listen to that album, and then to some of that Rolling Thunder Revue, Man!

Which leads me to another point: that Dylan actually lived this great figure through in 74 and 75. He actually connected with his audience again, and really raised the call before his beautiful voice started to go in the eighties.

Tangled Up In Blue was a song for those hippies who had been to high to really live fully in the 60's. Idiot wind was another personal where he castigates ignorant fans, like "Like A Rolling Stone", although that was more of a screw-all of-you-who-now-live-poor-and-dumb kind of a thing. On the rolling Thunder ReVUE he sounds as though he's not only breaking up inside with his problems with his wife, but he is apoligizing for leaving everyone in the hippi dust way back. Somewhere in the packet of that set, on the liner notes, Alan Ginsberg says something about Dylan really personifying the real, Great american idol(not literal translation). Alan also hints at how he sounds like he is calling back to the 60's, and finally taking everyone up for the final "Come with me, tell your friends, it's anarchy in the U.S."

Of course it could have just been the wild translucent energy that gravitated throughout the revue that makes that version of "Tonight, I'll Be Staying Here with You" so enthralling.

This album, Self Portrait, recieves five stars. Because it is an essential original. Not only is it the greatest, most influential, and infamous "Get Away From Me" recording ever made, but it also actually deterred millions of fans who had until then hung on his every song. The Golden Children actually abandoned their greatest prophet at the most crucial time because of a mediocre album. This actually means that both the generation, and Bob were abandoned.

This album should not be recognized for its musical mediocrity, but rather for its bonechilling showmanship and what it revealed about the laziest, most ignorant, most selfish, heartless generation ever. I can only imagine that Nixon had a good hardy laugh at Altamont; when the drippy hippies toppled on each other and really gave up their mysticism, youth embellishment, and chemicals. Everyone had to get jobs at health stores and in government(GW).

Finally, I want to say that I am terribly tired of people making fun of Dylan's voice. You are an idiot if you cannot realize the expression in his songs. By far, he can deliver a song better than anyone else. I sing kinda like an opera guy, but I'd really kill for Dylan's voice. You can hear thousand years pain in his voice when he sings. In fact, that may be his hidden charm. For those long poems would mean nothing without that organic, real, human voice of his. The most Beautiful voice ever.

I kind of love "Self Portrait," even though I know the intent behind it was to declare independence from his "leeching" fans. I got interested in hearing it again after reading his autobiography, "Chronicles Part 1," in which he demonstrates the degree to which he came into the music scene as a kind of musicologist -- a kind of private collector of American songs without regard for genre. On only a few albums does he allow his love for American music to take precedence over his own songwriting, and this is one of those few. (The others are his first album, and the 1990s collections "Good As I Been To You" and "World Gone Wrong." Cover versions also appear on some of the Bootleg Series disks, especially #1-3, and #8, and on "Biograph.") He is a thoughtful, reverent interpreter of the songs he loves, songs he seems to understand from the inside out. That's what threw people off in 1970. If you were going to record an old country chestnut like "I've Forgotten More..." you undoubtedly had to have your tongue in cheek, but Dylan croons it with evident sincerity, and pulls off a version that stands with any other. Same with "Let it Be Me," "Blue Moon," and "Take a Message to Mary."

Some of the other covers of more folkish material are flat-out fantastic, and don't deserve to be dismissed in any way. "Copper Kettle," "Days of '49" and "Alberta" are great recordings, and hold up very well against all the other music he was recording in the period between the classics "Blonde on Blonde" and "Blood on the Tracks." You could easily assemble a single album out of this collection that would be his second-best album of that period after "John Wesley Harding." It would include:

"All the Tired Horses"

"Alberta No. 1"

"I Forgot More..."

"Days of '49"

"Early Morning Rain"

"Let it Be Me"

"Belle Isle"

"Living the Blues"

"Copper Kettle"

"Gotta Travel On"

"Blue Moon"

"Take Me as I Am (Or Let Me Go)"

"Take a Message to Mary"

"It Hurts Me Too"

"Wigwam"

That's 16 songs. The other stuff -- sloppy things like the live stuff with The Band, the dumb version of "The Boxer," the pointless "Woogie Boogie" are what drag this album down in the esteem of Dylanologists and overthinkers like Greil Marcus.

But what I suspect really killed its reception from the cradle was Dylan calling it "Self Portrait." All the fans of that era -- they thought they knew who he was. He was an icon for radicals and pseudo-revolutionaries. Or, he was the epitome of the rock/folk singer-songwriter, the trailblazer for artists like Paul Simon, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell. Or, he was a poet of the streets, the surreal prophet of chaos. No, Dylan says, here: I'm none of those. I'm just a guy who likes old songs. These songs inspire me. Not just Woody Guthrie, but also those old redneck crooners, too, and those phonies on Broadway. I could play Grand Old Opry without a lick of shame. The Dylan fanatics of 1970 could not accept that.

If he'd posed on the front cover with a guitar in front of a studio in Nashville and called it "The Nashville Project," and trimmed it a little, it might've won a good review in Rolling Stone. But I think it's fair to say that by 1970, Bob Dylan was no longer in search of Rolling Stone's approval.

Let me point out that this is a very challenging 80 minutes of music. I was intimidated by this album when I first started collecting Bob Dylan's work. Following the advice of many reviewers and critics, I skipped from 'Nashville Skyline' to 'New Morning' and never even considered adding this to my collection.

Last winter, my curiosity got the best of me and I purchased 'Self Portrait' on a whim. I wasn't sure what to expect, I'd already heard 'Dylan' and 'Knocked Out Loaded' and many other albums that compete for the title of "Lowest Point in Dylan's Career," but I was shocked. 'Self Portrait' does not belong in that category.

True, there are far too many throw-away songs. However, at least half of the album is great. Another reviewer wrote that this album is like an old, comfy sweater. What a perfect comparison. Sifting through 'Self Portrait,' I have found many songs that are catchy, comfortable and unimposing.

I won't pretend that this is worthy of 5 stars, but I do think that anyone who gives 'Self Portrait' a chance will be pleasantly surprised - provided they drop all expectations and just listen. I'm very glad that I did - I'm always using "Days of '49" and "Alberta #2" in my mix tapes! Maybe you'll find some favorites too.

If I had to limit myself to only five Dylan albums to take with me to a desert island, they would be "Blonde on Blonde," "New Morning," "Blood on the Tracks," "Bringing It All Back Home" (for the B side), and "Self Portrait." While the first four are classics, "Self Portrait" is not. In fact, it has most often served as a can for pompous rock critics to kick around. Nevermind the naysayers, "Self Portrait" is an eclectic masterpiece. It comprises virtually all the sub-genres of American music: Gospel and C&W, blues and folk, Appalachian ballads and sea shanties, pop and rollicking rock'n'roll.

And, throughout the album, Dylan exhibits much of his finest singing, on both his own songs and on his interpretations of songs by others. Non-Dylan fans will tell you that he's known for his lyrics, not his voice. However, dyed-in-the-wool Dylan fans know that it's really in his singing--in the nuances, in the rich palette of vocal hues and textures, and in the elongated vowels and punctuated consonants--where the magic lies. And no album presents as wide a spectrum of Dylan's vocal ingenuity as does "Self Portrait."

"Alberta #1" lilts and leans, yearns and pleads. "Days of '49" is a sea shanty dressed in gold digger clothes; Dylan virtually becomes the forsaken, desperate miner, Tom Moore. Gordon Lightfoot's "Early Morning Rain" never did much for me. Nor did Peter, Paul, and Mary's famous cover. But Dylan shines new light on the song, saturating its lyrics with a fine mist. It glows under his sincere, intimate, gentle vocals.

"In Search of Little Sadie" is a re-write of the folk song "Little Sadie" (also on this album). And in it, Dylan stretches the phrases to the point of tearing them apart, raw and rocking. No music is more ragged and haggard than American folk music. Dylan knows this and exploits it better than anyone. He IS the wretched psychopath who shoots down little Sadie for no apparent reason. "Belle Isle" is a Celtic dream. You can see the fair maiden and feel the narrator's enamored pleas. "Gotta Travel On" is drenched in the blood of deep South gospel, strongly reminiscent of the Staple Singers, whom Dylan was evidently listening to a lot of at the time.

His rendition of Paul Simon's "The Boxer" has been panned by many a critic. However, give it a listen and tell me that it doesn't have more life than the original Simon & Garfunkel rendition. Just a bit unpolished, a bit dusty, and a bit tangled, Dylan (who harmonizes himself on this track) is a more believable fallen boxer than S&G. As far as poignant singing goes, "Copper Kettle" is gorgeous. Dylan, in country voice, sings as if he were a retired working class hero sitting in a cabin by the woodstove, contemplating the halcyon days of youth, taking pride in his Daddy's and Grandpa's clever way of getting around paying the whiskey tax.

"Self Portrait" is a rich fruit, sprung from the loins of American roots music. It is a multidimensional gem that synthesizes a spectrum of musical genres. The deeper one peers into it, the more one hears. The more one hears, the more one sees.

I like Self Portrait, I like it alot...

This is the album that can make or break a Dylan fan....24 sides of Bob Dylan.

The first song, "All the Tired Horses" makes you wonder if this is really Bob Dylan. Then there is something that wraps you within the songs/moods that Bob Dylan has created. The smoothly crafted "Early Morning Rain" stands opposite the rough and tumble "Days of '49" and the string arrangement of "Belle Isle" lends itself to a nice version of "Blue Moon"

"The Boxer" has Bob singing harmony with himself, and "It Hurts Me Too" is a must hear.

An opportunity to hear 24 sides of Bob Dylan.

I recently became a Dylanist. I've always loved Bob's 60s stuff and the Basement Tapes is one of the most listened to albums in my collection since I got it around 1985. Then a friend recommended Greil Marcus' Invisible Republic. Greil reiterates throughout the book that a bootleg five CD set called the Genuine Basement Tapes is an absolute must have for serious Dylan fans. After several years of searching I found a copy at a reasonable price in 2001.

Then I finally got around to Self Portrait.

It seems to me in light of Marcus' revelations that Self Portrait was an attempt by Bob to recreate the easy, sittin' by the stove, drinkin' whisky, spittin' tobaccy juice on the floor kind of feeling heard on the Basement Tapes. He admits as much in an excerpt from the 1984 Rolling Stone Interview;

"And then there was a lot of other stuff that was just on the shelf. But I was being bootlegged at the time and a lot of stuff that was worse was appearing on bootleg records. So I just figured I'd put all this stuff together and put it out, my own bootleg record, so to speak. You know, if it actually had been a bootleg record, people probably would have sneaked around to buy it and played it for each other secretly."

He wanted to make his own bootleg record i.e. his own professionally recorded Basement Tape with a mixture of old timey covers and deadpan original lope along cowboy songs with his own devil may care twang. To Bob it seemed the feeling was right, great sound with the purposefully non-professional sitting on the porch kind of emotion. If the fans want the Basement Tape, he thought, they'll love this.

Al Kooper: I don't know what he was looking for on Self Portrait. We'd just go in and do 'cover' songs, all day long.

In other words the same unhurried methodology was used to record Self Portrait as was used on the Basement Tapes. He had his group do covers all day long with barely a run through and then do an original once in a while.

David Bromberg remembers the sessions as "stream of consciousness things" - one song after another for hours, and he was sick with a high fever. He would work all day, go home, fall asleep and wake up in time to go back to the studio.

I think Bob wanted to get away from serious music and just have some fun. In the 60s and before that he was not a jamming musician as the Band were. He liked the Band because for a while he could hang out and let the jams flow, something he couldn't do as a loner. He played that corny cowboy music because he really liked it.

For me the "mystery" of Self Portrait is solved. The Basement Tapes remain a mystery. They probably always will.

This record differs from other Dylan ones in that, sadly, it is boring. Some of his records are great. Some of them very good. There are some mediocre ones. And only a few turkeys. Among the latter, most of them are just bad ones (weak songs, lousy musicians, poor production values). This is his only boring one.