Bob Dylan released his first album 50 years ago this week. That
self-titled debut is not the Dylan record anyone listens to most--it
includes only two original tunes--and as Andy Greene details, it was not a smashing success. But it opened the door for Dylan to come back just months later and record The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, which propelled Dylan's staggering career.
Watching this 16 mm footage—lost for 50 years—in its black-and-white glory is a revelation. The goosebumps begin the second Charles and his band (featuring David "Fathead" Newman on sax) fire up the head-boppin' riffs and rhythms. The eight-piece band nails "One Mint Julep" (though without music stands—they have to use chairs to prop up their sheet music).
On his first album since 2008, Sweet employs vinyl in the mastering process to sweeten the sound—a sign of his '60s-pop infatuation. Fans of Girlfriend-era Sweet may wish that this record rocked more; others may find its introspection a sign of growth.
Fans of guitar superslinger Phil Keaggy (which include, it is said, the late Jimi Hendrix) know that he's incredible live, the high quality of his studio discs notwithstanding. Here he combines studio precision and live spontaneity as he tackles classic-rock covers ("To Make You Feel My Love," "Here Comes the Sun") and his Christian-music chestnuts ("What a Day," "Salvation Army Band").
Some call us yesterday’s bees, working old honeycomb. Are we only circling, a phrizz of amber, un-hived? The call to be golden crescendos within, clothed in stone, a kind of falling, over and over. “Sink deeper,” is one whisper, all winter, earth like bronze and scores of husks—the exiled, shattered. Workers know this: honey splits the great hum, come spring. What is a life without lavender, rag-tag monarda, or the silky cosmos?— myriad shivers of wing, months of rehearsing hunger, bowing down in the warm dark, the pregnant dust, with its little sails.