Bob Dylan Another Self Portrait (The Bootleg Series Vol. 10)

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Bob Dylan Bootleg Series Volume 10 comes from the 1969 1971 recording sessions that ultimately produced the Self Portrait and New Morning albums. All 35 tracks are previously unreleased, alternate takes, demos or live versions of that material. The versions of the songs on this package are radically different from the officially released versions. The cover is new artwork by Bob Dylan. The liner notes have been written by Greil Marcus, who wrote the original Self Portrait review for Rolling Stone that infamously asked, “What is this sh**?”. Also included is an extensive essay from well known journalist, Michael Simmons. The set also has extensive photographs of that era from John Cohen and Al Clayton many of them rare and unseen – as well as pictures of the original tape boxes and cue sheets.

The Standard Version contains 35 tracks on 2 CD’s, and soft cover perfect bound booklet
The Deluxe Version contains 4 CD s and two hardcover books housed in a hardcover slip case
Book # 1 contains 4 CD’s and liner notes
Book # 2 contains the photos from John Cohen and Al Clayton.
The 2 bonus CD’s will contain the newly remastered version of Self Portrait and the complete 17 song recording of Dylan & The Band performing live at the Isle Of Wight in 1969
The vinyl version contains 35 tracks on 3 LPs (and 2 CDs) plus a 12″ x 12″ booklet that includes the liner notes written by Greil Marcus, the essay from Michael Simmons, and the photographs from John Cohen and Al Clayton, and pictures of the original tape boxes and cue sheets.

CD 1

1 Went To See The Gypsy (demo)

2 In Search Of Little Sadie (without overdubs, Self Portrait)

3 Pretty Saro (unreleased, Self Portrait)

4 Alberta #3 (alternate version, Self Portrait)

5 Spanish Is The Loving Tongue (unreleased, Self Portrait)

6 Annie’s Going To Sing Her Song (unreleased, Self Portrait)

7 Time Passes Slowly #1 (alternate version, New Morning)

8 Only A Hobo (unreleased, Greatest Hits II)

9 Minstrel Boy (unreleased, The Basement Tapes)

10 I Threw It All Away (alternate version, Nashville Skyline)

11 Railroad Bill (unreleased, Self Portrait)

12 Thirsty Boots (unreleased, Self Portrait)

13 This Evening So Soon (unreleased, Self Portrait)

14 These Hands (unreleased, Self Portrait)

15 Little Sadie (without overdubs, Self Portrait)

16 House Carpenter (unreleased, Self Portrait)

17 All The Tired Horses (without overdubs, Self Portrait)

CD 2

1 If Not For You (alternate version, New Morning)

2 Wallflower (alternate version, 1971)

3 Wigwam (original version without overdubs, Self Portrait)

4 Days Of ’49 (original version without overdubs, Self Portrait)

5 Working On A Guru (unreleased, New Morning)

6 Country Pie (alternate version, Nashville Skyline)

7 I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight (Live With The Band, Isle Of Wight 1969)

8 Highway 61 Revisited (Live With The Band, Isle Of Wight 1969)

9 Copper Kettle (without overdubs, Self Portrait)

10 Bring Me A Little Water (unreleased, New Morning)

11 Sign On The Window (with orchestral overdubs, New Morning)

12 Tattle O’Day (unreleased, Self Portrait)

13 If Dogs Run Free (alternate version, New Morning)

14 New Morning (with horn section overdubs, New Morning)

15 Went To See The Gypsy (alternate version, New Morning)

16 Belle Isle (without overdubs, Self Portrait)

17 Time Passes Slowly #2 (alternate version, New Morning)

18 When I Paint My Masterpiece (demo)

Bob Dylan & The Band

Isle of Wight – August 31, 1969

1 She Belongs To Me

2 I Threw It All Away

3 Maggie’s Farm

4 Wild Mountain Thyme

5 It Ain’t Me, Babe

6 To Ramona/ Mr. Tambourine Man

7 I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine

8 Lay Lady Lay

9 Highway 61 Revisited

10 One Too Many Mornings

11 I Pity The Poor Immigrant

12 Like A Rolling Stone

13 I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight

14 Quinn The Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)

15 Minstrel Boy

16 Rainy Day Women #12 & 35

Greatest Song Lyrics Ever!

HOOKER WITH A PENIS
BY: TOOL
ALBUM: AENIMA

I met a boy wearing Vans, 501s, and a
Dope Beastie t, nipple rings, and
New tattoos that claimed that he
Was OGT,
From ’92,
The first EP.

And in between
Sips of Coke
He told me that
He thought
We were sellin’ out,
Layin’ down,
Suckin’ up
To the man.

Well now I’ve got some
A-dvice for you, little buddy.
Before you point the finger
You should know that
I’m the man,

And if I’m the man,

Then you’re the man, and
He’s the man as well so you can
Point that fuckin’ finger up your ass.

All you know about me is what I’ve sold you,
Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name.

I sold my soul to make a record,
Dip shit,
And you bought one.

So I’ve got some
Advice for you, little buddy.
Before you point your finger
You should know that
I’m the man,

If I’m the fuckin’ man
Then you’re the fuckin’ man as well
So you can
Point that fuckin’ finger up your ass.

All you know about me is what I’ve sold you,
Dumb fuck.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name.

I sold my soul to make a record,
Dip shit,
And you bought one.

All you read and
Wear or see and
Hear on TV
Is a product
Begging for your
Fatass dirty
Dollar*

So…Shut up and

Buy my new record
Send more money
Fuck you, buddy.

* MY FAVORITE LINE FROM ANY SONG

This Day in History (April 8)

Apr 8, 1994: Kurt Cobain is found dead

History.com

On April 8, 1994, rock star Kurt Cobain was found dead in his home outside Seattle, Washington, with fresh injection marks in both arms and a fatal wound to the head from the 20-gauge shotgun found between his knees. Cobain’s suicide brought an end to a life marked by far more suffering than is generally associated with rock superstardom. But rock superstardom never did sit well with Kurt Cobain, a committed social outsider who was reluctantly dubbed the spokesman of his generation. “Success to him seemed like, I think, a brick wall,” said friend Greg Sage, a musical hero of Cobain’s from the local punk rock scene of the 1980s. “There was nowhere else to go but down.”

Kurt Cobain rose to fame as the leader and chief songwriter of the Seattle-based band Nirvana, the group primarily responsible for turning a thriving regional music scene in the Pacific Northwest into a worldwide pop-cultural phenomenon often labeled “grunge.” As enormously popular as Nirvana became in the wake of their era-defining single “Smells Like Teen Spirit” (1991), it’s easy to forget just how far outside the mainstream the band really was, and just how ill-suited to pop celebrity the misanthropic, heroin-addicted Kurt Cobain was. In his suicide note, Cobain wrote: “I have it good, very good, and I’m grateful, but since the age of seven, I’ve become hateful towards all humans in general….Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I’m too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.”

Cobain’s suicide note was found stabbed to a pile of potting soil with a ballpoint pen, nearby his body in the greenhouse on his Lake Washington property. It was probably written on or about April 5, 1994—the estimated date on which Cobain actually shot himself and one day after Cobain’s rock-star wife, Courtney Love, filed a Missing Person Report stating that Cobain was possibly suicidal and in possession of a gun. It was not the Seattle police, however, but a workman inspecting lighting on Cobain’s property who first discovered Cobain’s body on this day in 1994.

This Day in History (March 28)

Mar 28, 1958: W.C.Handy — the “Father of the Blues”— dies

History.com

“With all their differences, my forebears had one thing in common: if they had any musical talent, it remained buried.” So wrote William Christopher Handy in his autobiography in discussing the absence of music in his home life as a child. Born in northern Alabama in 1873, Handy was raised in a middle-class African-American family that intended for him a career in the church. To them and to his teachers, W.C. Handy wrote, “Becoming a musician would be like selling my soul to the devil.” It was a risk that the young Handy decided to take. He was internationally famous by the time he wrote his 1941 memoir, Father of the Blues, although “Stepfather” might have been a more accurate label for the role he played in bringing Blues into the musical mainstream. The significance of his role is not to be underestimated, however. W.C. Handy, one of the most important figures in 20th-century American popular music history, died in New York City on March 28, 1958.

While Handy’s teachers might not have considered a career in music to be respectable, they provided him with the tools that made his future work possible. Naturally blessed with a fantastic ear, Handy was drilled in formal musical notation as a schoolboy. “When I was no more than ten,” Hand wrote in Father of the Blues, I could catalogue almost any sound that came to my ears, using the tonic sol-fa system. I knew the whistle of each of the river boats on the Tennessee….Even the bellow of the bull became in my mind a musical note, and in later years I recorded this memory in the ‘Hooking cow Blues.'” The talent and the inclination to take the traditional black music he heard during his years as a traveling musician and capture it accurately in technically correct sheet music would be Handy’s great professional contribution. It not only made the music that came to be called “the Blues” playable by other professional musicians, but it also added the fundamental musical elements of the Blues into the vocabulary of professional song-composers. Jazz standards “The Memphis Blues” and “St. Louis Blues” are the most famous of Handy’s own compositions, but his musical legacy can be heard in the works of composers as varied as George Gershwin and Keith Richards.

More than 25,000 mourners filled the streets around Harlem’s Abyssinian Baptist Church for the funeral of W.C. Handy, who died at the age of 85 on this day in 1958.

This Day in History (February 19)

Feb 19, 1878: Thomas Alva Edison patents the phonograph

History.com

The technology that made the modern music business possible came into existence in the New Jersey laboratory where Thomas Alva Edison created the first device to both record sound and play it back. He was awarded U.S. Patent No. 200,521 for his invention–the phonograph–on this day in 1878.

Edison’s invention came about as spin-off from his ongoing work in telephony and telegraphy. In an effort to facilitate the repeated transmission of a single telegraph message, Edison devised a method for capturing a passage of Morse code as a sequence of indentations on a spool of paper. Reasoning that a similar feat could be accomplished for the telephone, Edison devised a system that transferred the vibrations of a diaphragm—i.e., sound—to an embossing point and then mechanically onto an impressionable medium—paraffin paper at first, and then a spinning, tin-foil wrapped cylinder as he refined his concept. Edison and his mechanic, John Kreusi, worked on the invention through the autumn of 1877 and quickly had a working model ready for demonstration. The December 22, 1877, issue of Scientific American reported that “Mr. Thomas A. Edison recently came into this office, placed a little machine on our desk, turned a crank, and the machine inquired as to our health, asked how we liked the phonograph, informed us that it was very well, and bid us a cordial good night.”

The patent awarded to Edison on February 19, 1878, specified a particular method—embossing—for capturing sound on tin-foil-covered cylinders. The next critical improvement in recording technology came courtesy of Edison’s competitor in the race to develop the telephone, Alexander Graham Bell. His newly established Bell Labs developed a phonograph based on the engraving of a wax cylinder, a significant improvement that led directly to the successful commercialization of recorded music in the 1890s and lent a vocabulary to the recording business—e.g., “cutting” records and “spinning wax”—that has long outlived the technology on which it was based.

This Day in History (February 18)

Feb 18, 1959: Ray Charles records “What’d I Say” at Atlantic Records

History.com

The phone call that Ray Charles placed to Atlantic Records in early 1959 went something like this: “I’m playing a song out here on the road, and I don’t know what it is—it’s just a song I made up, but the people are just going wild every time we play it, and I think we ought to record it.” The song Ray Charles was referring to was “What’d I Say,” which went on to become one of the greatest rhythm-and-blues records ever made. Composed spontaneously out of sheer showbiz necessity, “What’d I Say” was laid down on tape on this day in 1959, at the Atlantic Records studios in New York City.

The necessity that drove Ray Charles to invent “What’d I Say” was simple: the need to fill time. Ten or 12 minutes before the end of a contractually required four-hour performance at a dance in Pittsburgh one night, Charles and his band ran completely out of songs to play. “So I began noodling—just a little riff that floated into my head,” Charles explained many years later. “One thing led to another and I found myself singing and wanting the girls to repeat after me….Then I could feel the whole room bouncing and shaking and carrying on something fierce.”

What was it about “What’d I Say” that so captivated the audience at the Pittsburgh dance that night and the rest of humanity ever since then? Charles always thought it was the sound of his Wurlitzer electric piano, a very unfamiliar instrument at the time. Others would say it was the call-and-response in the song’s bridge—all unnnhs and ooohs and other sounds not typically found on the average pop record of 1959. Whatever it was, it worked well enough to become Charles’ closing number from that night in Pittsburgh until his final show.

“You start ’em off, you get ’em just first tapping their feet. Next thing they got their hands goin’, and next thing they got their mouth open and they’re yelling, and they’re singin’ and they’re screamin’. It’s a great feeling when you got your audience involved with you.”

“What’d I Say” was a sure-fire hit with live audiences and with record-buyers. It was a #1 R&B hit for Ray Charles in 1959 and a #6 pop hit as well—his first bona fide crossover hit, but certainly not his last.

This Day in History (February 10)

Feb 10, 1972: Ziggy Stardust makes his earthly debut

History.com

It was one of those events that virtually nobody witnessed, yet almost but many wish they had: the concert at London’s Toby Jug pub on February 10, 1972, when the relatively minor rocker named David Bowie became the spaceman Ziggy Stardust. While it might be said of many such historic moments—like John meeting Paul at a backyard birthday party, or Elvis ad-libbing “That’s All Right (Mama)” between takes at Sun Studios—that their significance became clear only in hindsight, there was at least one man who knew exactly where Ziggy’s earthly debut would lead: David Bowie himself.

“I’m going to be huge,” is what David Bowie told Melody Maker less than three weeks earlier and still six months prior to the release of the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. “And it’s quite frightening in a way, because I know that when I reach my peak and it’s time for me to be brought down it will be with a bump.”  That last bit may have been a case of Bowie confusing his Ziggy persona with real life, but that was what put the act over in the first place. Any rock musician can put on a costume, but how many could have inhabited the identity of an androgynous Martian rock star come to Earth in its dying days so convincingly, so effortlessly?

Bowie has credited two men with serving as his inspiration for creating Ziggy Stardust. One was the man he met and spoke with after his first Velvet Underground concert and took to be Lou Reed, but who was, in fact, Reed’s replacement in the Velvets. “He sat there and talked as though he was Lou and he was talking about how he wrote ‘Waiting For The Man’ and all these things!” recalled Bowie years later. “And it was at that point that I realised that, at the time, it didn’t matter to me if this was the real one or a fake one.” The other inspiration was Vince Taylor, an obscure figure to Americans, but a figure well-known in late-60s London as a former pop star very publicly losing his mind. “He fired his band and went on-stage one night in a white sheet. He told the audience to rejoice, that he was Jesus. They put him away.”

From this mix, Bowie created the persona and groundbreaking album that offered “a finger up the nose of pop sincerity…a boot in the collective sagging denim behind of hippie singer-songwhiners” and made his career. As one of the roughly sixty young Londoners in the audience that night at the Toby Jug now recalls, “Bowie had brought theatre to a humble pub gig….I couldn’t blink for fear of missing something—nothing would ever be the same again.”