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Highway 61 is in my opinion the best of Dylan's electric 60s albums. It has better songs and better performances than Bringing It All Back Home, and, while the songs on here are in many ways eclipsed by those on Blonde on Blonde, the recording quality on this album is pristine and perfect. Blonde on Blonde sounds a bit muddy and drugged compared to the amphetamine perfection of Highway 61. All of the tracks are, without exaggerating, classics, right through from "Like A Rolling Stone" to "Desolation Row," which is quite simply one of the best songs that anyone anywhere has ever written. "Highway 61" is probably the only throwaway song on the album - all the rest are like nothing else recorded in popular music, bluesy and sad and gutsy all at the same time. The mellow, late-night swagger of the wonderfully-titled "It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train to Cry" is a highlight, as is the drugged-up mythology of "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues." Add to that the sinister "Ballad of A Thin Man" and the sheer majesty of "Desolation Row," and you've got what is without a doubt one of the best albums ever made. This is an essential addition to anybody's collection.
The middle opus in Dylan's much praised trilogy of masterpieces, (starting with bringing it all back home in '65 and ending with blonde on blonde in '67), Highway 61 Revisited showcases a man at the eye of a terrific storm. For a few short months in the mid sixties Bob Dylan was the coolest, hippest man alive: his hair growing out from its shabby shortness to a volume-tastic mess, his threads which once reflected those of the poor and downtrodden were now tailor made and painfully fashionable. Cap this all off with a pair of ray bans and the ever present cigarette and you have an iconic image that still captures generations of new fans some 45 years later. And if that wasn't enough to guarantee his place in history, there's the music..... You know you're onto something special when the opening Like a Rolling Stone is probably the weakest song on the album. Previewed the previous year in a rawer and less focussed form at Bobs now legendary Newport Blues Festival appearance (he was booed and jeered at for having the audacity to turn up with a Stratocaster) its a lengthy, snarling anthem, the man spitting the words out over a swirling mass of organ. It's probably the biggest red herring in his catalogue too, for what follows is a series of songs so musically clever and lyrically witty that you could argue the rest of the world has still yet to catch up. Tombstone Blues is a pacy romp, picking up where Subterranean Homesick Blues left off and almost succeeding in making that song seem staid in comparison. It takes a lot to laugh, it takes a train to cry revels in its simplicity, a slower blusier number with by far the simplest lyrics on the album. "Well I ride on the mail train baby, can't buy a thrill" Bob almost croons, giving the song a kind of vintage edge. Following From a Buick 6's edgy sneer and the pretty, dream like Approximately Queen Jane, Ballad of a Thin Man is the centrepiece of the album in every sense. A haunting and downright spiteful composition, one wonders who's Bobs eyes are burning holes into when he delivers the line "you're a cow! Give me some milk or else go home." Its menace lies in its funereal pace and accusatory stabs of piano keys, it really is that unsettling. From there the album takes the scenic route home. A lively title track gets the toes tapping and raises a smile with some of the finest wordplay you'll ever hear ("God said to Abraham "kill me a son", Abe said "man, you must be puttin' me on"), before Just like Tom Thumbs Blues turns up like an old friend, warm and tinged with a little nostalgia, the man sings this with a lot of heart, and when he delivers the pay off "I'm going back to New York City, I do believe I've had enough" you're inclined to believe him. So we wave him off as he takes the track out into the fade and we lick our lips at the final feast that's brought forth. There will never be another Desolation Row, not by Bob (although he's tried), not by anyone. Put simply, its nine minutes of perfection. The skittering pace, the joyful simplicity of the guitar strums, the sumptuous stories within, all of these elements add up to what is essentially a distillation of everything that is great about the former Mr Zimmerman. Verse after verse spills out, with Bob giving the vocal performance of his life, time disappearing in a world of circus's, Romeo's, and Cinderella's. No sooner has its tale been told that you want to listen intently again. Every time a new story unfolds that you hadn't quite heard right before. In fact that can be said for the album as a whole, with such jaw dropping lyrics on offer (and what about those titles?!) every listen throws up a line you've not noticed or put into context before. The Band were recruited to play on this album following their baptism of fire as Bobs backing band on a recent tour, and their influence on how the songs turned out is immeasurable. Where Bob could be guilty in the past of lazily recording ramshackle rather than definitive versions of songs, The Band add discipline to Bob's restless nature. Its shocking to think they wouldn't record together again for a further 8 years. Highway 61 revisited, more so than the albums either side of it, stands in a league of its own, not only on a musical level but also a cultural one. The weight of life would prevent Bob Dylan having such fun again until his own sixties.
For some this is Dylan's creative zenith, the moment when he successfully & perfectly fused folk & rock into one new sound & gave birth to a host of impersonators. Opening with 'Like a Rolling Stone', the album makes away with the acoustic gestures of 'Bringing it All Back Home' & goes electric. Chided by some for his dabbling in electric instruments, songs such as the quality showcased here, show up any such claims as pure folly. 'Like a Rolling Stone' explodes out of the speakers, spurred on by Al Kooper's persuasive Hammond organ, it is 6 minutes of sheer brilliance, marking a new age & sweeping behind what had gone before it. The closing track, 'Desolation Row' has similar ambitions, a 9 minute odyssey through the insides of Dylan's mind, and what comes between proves equally compelling. There is not a weak track in sight here, & whilst the title track is not amongst his best, like much of the other tracks, it would be churlish to complain when there is so much here to delight in.
I am shocked at the amount of times that this great album has been reviewed and am then astounded at someone having the cheek to give it jsut 4 stars andequally as shocked at their indifference to the pre-electric Dylan. I know that many will not be huge fans of Dylan, but this is one of his defining albums, and as such should be treated with the repect that it is granted. But onto the reivew. Highway 61 was released in 1965, just before the summer of love and during a time when the Beatles' ruled the day. Dylan had only been around half a year since his last release of Bringing It All Back Home, where he first plugged in the electirc guitar, and provided some classics, but still added a side of acoustic tracks, although the level at which they are written is far and above that of many of his earlier folk work. This is the album that pronounced his passion for electric rock and roll, showing that he can kick it just as hard as the Rolling Stones and the like. But the level at which he did it is astounding, releasing an album complete with great tracks, an album that i would go as far as saying is perfect in almost every repect. But enough with the generalities, let's look at the tracks. 1. Like A Rolling Stone - What can be said that hasn't already been said about this track. A classic opener, that was put at Number 1 on the all time greatest songs by Rolling Stone Magazine, a placing that is well deserved for Dylan. The snare drum opening is classic and the snarl and vocal that Dylan provides makes this such a hard-edged track and further alienates himself from the all smiles Dylan of yesteryear. The original rough copy of the lyrics to this involved about 50 verses, accorfding to some sources, and if you thought that it was quite long now, then... 2. Tombstone Blues - Another great track that sets you up for the style of the album, blues and lots of it. The driving drums and guitar on this are great and make this such a hard-edged track that forces a reaction and shows the blues roots of Dylan and many of his compatriots. 3. It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry - After the two rock opening tracks, we get this more laid-back track that is again a blues cut. This was originally done in a similar style to some of the other tracks, which can be found on the Bootleg Series 2 & 7, but this more low key approach is much more suitable and makes a classic track. 4. From A Buick 6 - This is similar in many respects to Tombstone Blues and picks up the tempo of the album, bringing it back to the blues dipped style of the first couple of tracks. 5. Ballad Of A Thin Man - The vocal on this is some of the most demanding and critical of his career and tells the often surreal tale of Mr Jones, who appears to have got on the worng end of Dylan. Although the exact name of the villan in this song has never been confirmed, it is often rumoured to have been a Rolling Stone Magazine writer or the Rolling Stones guitarist, Brian Jones. This is a good change form some of the other tracks and the piano on this is a joy to behold with the lyrics and vocals. 6. Queen Jane Approximately - A more love styled song after the harsh criticisms from the previous track. The backing trakc on this is one of the best on the album, and the organ on this is a highlight, amking this track what it is. 7. Highway 61 Revisited - The title track for the album is another blues track, with a nice upbeat bakcing track and whistle at the beginning and during the chorus. The symbolism and use of biblical image smake this a great track lyrically, although the fun in it is evident. 8. Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues - The title to this track was apparently a reference to a book quote, although the name of which escapes me. This is one of the highlights of the album and tells the story of a trip to the city and his troubles when there. The lyrics on this are the highlight, as well as the instumentation itslef which helps to bring this track together. 9. Desolation Row - Probably one of Dylan's best songs, an epic at 11:20, but the lyrics are a joy to behold and if you just listen, it will draw you in for the entire time. It was a song that Dylan referred to as one of his New York, or city, songs that he felt were never fully finished at the time. But regardless of that, this is a spectaculr song, and worthy of the album's purchase regardles of the rest of the songs. All in all, this being the second in Dylan's '60s triology of albums, this is a highlight and often cited as his best work, and of course with such a great selection of songs, this should really be in your collection. It is also an ideal place to start when getting into Dylan, as all of the tracks are classics and i am sure that it will remain firmly in your stereo for a long time to come. To be honest i don't think that i can recommend this highly enough and i am sure that i could write a book on this album, but i will close with a plea, get this album now or you will miss out on one of the classic music experiences.
‘Highway 61 Revisited’ was Bob Dylan’s sixth album, and the second on which he used a band, or more specifically, a rhythm section, plus musicians like Al Kooper (organ) and Mike Bloomfield (guitar). Highway 61 itself stretches north to south from Minnesota, Dylan’s homeland, down through the Mississippi Delta, and the record has been likened by some as a journey to his Minnesotan roots and Mississippi-styled Blues music. Topped and trailed by two of his most powerful songs ever, it remains one of his defining albums. Alongside its successor, ‘Blonde On Blonde’, and ‘Blood On The Tracks’, it’s arguably one of the three best he ever recorded. The opening track, ‘Like A Rolling Stone’, was a real mould-breaker for its time. Six-minute singles were not the done thing in the summer of 1965 - a single was simply seven inches of black vinyl - but Dylan broke the rules with this astonishingly fierce yet poetic epic. (Significantly, it was his highest-charting single ever – No. 2 US, No. 4 UK). For a long time, critics were trying to analyse exactly whom it was directed at, but whether he was having a go at one or two individual acquaintances or just sounding off against the world in general, it hardly matters. That opening slap on the drums, that majestic wash of Hammond organ, that tumbling forth of phrases, and that soaring, searing ‘How does it feel’ chorus, all combine to produce something magical. He’s performed it on several of his live albums. But while it’s surely a pretty stunning experience to see and her him perform it onstage (assuming he’s having a good night and remembering the words properly), only one other version – that explosive climax to the 1966 live set where he is heckled by a member of the audience and called ‘Judas’ and snarls out ‘I don’t believe you – you’re a LIAR!’ ; over the opening bars - can compare on record with this original, definitive take. (Forget the 1969 Isle of Wight one on ‘Self Portrait’, which is pathetic). ‘Tombstone Blues’ may be poetry, but it’s also flat out garage rock. Much the same can me said about the brisk ‘From A Buick 6’ and the album’s cantering title track, with its galloping piano and police siren wail sound effects. In a way these three tracks are rock’n’roll of a sort, basically only using three chords (‘Tombstone’ only uses two), but the poetry and imagery of the lyrics elevates them to something else. It’s interesting to note that on two subsequent live albums, ‘Before The Flood’ (1974) and ‘Real Live’ (1984), he and his bands and the time did full-blown R’n’R versions of ‘Highway 61 Revisited’, the latter complete with a ‘Johnny B. Goode’-style intro. More measured in musical pace, if not lyrically, are the slower ‘It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry’, a rolling blues, the more melodic, enigmatic ‘Queen Jane Approximately’ and ‘Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues’. The ghostly ‘Ballad Of A Thin Man’ is unsettling with its cynical pointed refrain, ‘Something’s happening but you don’t know what it is, do you, Mr Jones?’ As a finale, there’s the haunting, nightmarish ‘Desolation Row’. An 11-minute acoustic work, with just a lightly-picked lead guitar supplementing Dylan’s strummed chords and short burst of harmonica. I’ve seen this ten-verse extravaganza called ‘surrealist poetry’ – “They’re selling postcards of the hanging, they’re painting the passports brown.” I’m tempted to quote more, but one has to stop somewhere. Suffice to say, this brings back memories of coll ege days when a friend on my course, a fellow Dylan fanatic and regular bar prop, and I used to quote lines from the song when we were both slightly drunk. (We found it hilarious, irreverent fools that we were). Seriously, this really is one of his most amazing lyrics ever, full of little stories, descriptions of a nightmare landscape, observations which are surreal, funny, deadly serious and apocalyptic at the same time. Putting my old wrinkly rocker hat on for a moment, it’s probably difficult for the average music punter under 25 to appreciate the full significance of this album. But at the time, it really was a musical milestone. And it was no coincidence that the Beatles and the Rolling Stones also started trying to say much more in their lyrics at around the same time. Robert Allen Zimmerman was indisputably the most influential individual figure in rock music in 1965, bar none. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Noel Gallagher, who was born that same year, has paid homage to it either. If so, he’s not alone as regards his generation. Like a number of other vintage releases, the price varies widely. That given below is the recommended high street one, though I have seen it recently in megastore sales for £5.99 or even less. (Guilty secret – I still have it on vinyl, and I paid 75p for it secondhand and nearly mint in 1973…)
'Once upon a time, you looked so fine...' Straight away it catches you with the organ hook, then the nasal voice warning you from the off. Looking down. Questioning with some verve, the immortal lines. You don't know which way to turn your head as the chorus slips and soars back to verse, the soothsayer holds court with minstrels divine. Too good. What a start, the rear guitar making your aural eyes follow it as it spins, tracking its repetition and repression, the wait and one two and we're back to scolding and sad pity. Today I can't grasp the astounding length of some of Dylan's tracks, this was the boundary pushed, it rolls along and along, resting briefly then back into the groove, pushing and pulling you in every direction, each topping the previous, concentric circles rising, up and up and up. How DOES it feel to be on your own? With no direction? No home? Is it rhetorical, is it profound? Is it just the greatest acid trip ever? When the harmonica kicks back and plays you don't care. How does it feel??? Fucking Fantastic. Onwards, from the rolling bittersweet country, to the rushed and hurried metropolis of slums and beat back-streets. A cascade of images, cymbals endlessly. The guitar in my left is pulling me along with it. Then the lead ripping over the top. So many people, so meshed and intertwined. Pulp fiction on vinyl. Religious comment amid political satire. A sigh to the world with it's institutions, no protesters, just rioters. Backed with shields of sweet air. Again the length, yet you don't tire of it's punch. He extends the interest, long verse short chorus, shapes and bodies thrown. Poverty, small-town palookaville life tales no moons in Junes here. Accurately cynical, Contemptuous of the blocks on which the world is built. Phew, a calmer one, more relaxed, small-bar piano rolling like the crying train, time to sit back and take the drink. This is either a horribly ironic lambasta tion, or a sweet reaffirmation after the acidity tones of the start. Light up with the harmonica and pretend to play along as it hits your spinal cord and makes you rise alongside it. Endless tap along with the simpleness of it all, one and two and three and four and... Roll... and back into the swing. Vivid and not a word wasted. Yet eventually you note the bitter aftertaste, slight and hidden in smiling tones. Winding down as they all do in a quiet way slowly fading as you strain for the bass counterbalancing the oft shrill harmonica. Even the sweets are sometime hard to eat, sometimes they contain the sourest centers. Back to the storm after the calm. An improper hymn to an angel. Cryptic and cyclic. Praising and critical. All behind, all having a real good time, rocking along tight and secure allowing the genius to overtake it and mask its brilliance. A star shining under a blanket of sunshine. Pin point and ruthlessly moving. How to describe this. I mean… Let's wait, oh drama, crisis, low and bassy. A twittering sweet organ again gracing the scenery. A tale this time of mocking and put down man ship. A crucifixion of a man by a near godlike figure. Knowledge inherent is assumed. An omnipresent taunter. Slight break and rise. A full on attack on morals and ethics, a slow boogie down. Nod along in appreciation, sway with the sheer style of it all. The words sometimes wash over sometimes hit home. The vitriolic sneer dripping acid from polite smiles. Laughing inside to the end. It aims right for the stomach and gets you in your gut every single time. The piano reaches in and twists you from inside and you plead for more each and every time. Each sneer and look is thanked. Each comment and dig is dug. You feel small and tender. Alone and unknowing. And you relish every second. Then back to the organs lure, pattering along a simply gorgeous slide down in piano organ stages every trip round pricks your ears The mentor this time o pen and casual offerings of peace and solitude, a space away. Ah! The heart rises each time this descends. The almost (I may be paranoid) laughing knowing face appears again thru the charity. Knowing the offer will be taken. The harmonica sings a round then back to bob. Easy and earnest at the same time, taunting and comforting, enigmatic as ever and then the guitar wanders down underneath the harmonica and you literally swoon. Whoa! Whoa! Here we go, rampaging, deadly angry at the heavens, mocking more than fellow men or women this time. Reproachful and empowered. Determination alone will make this be heard. The backing giving out a canvas for the bloody painting. This time no one escapes. Now the canvas expands mad whistles and grooving growling driving guitar. By the end you're scared for the world. This changed things. Enough power to move a generation. The epic centerpiece, a convoluted quintessential anti-hymn for a generation. Summing and completing the total. What more do you need? Really? The attitude beats Johnny Rotten by a good twelve years. This is the original punk tune. Fuck you all it screams. Guitars slide all over the place, pulling you through four minutes in what seems four seconds. The words paint a thousand pictures, each image one of mayhem and the modern world spinning too far out of control. Essential. Then we fade to a slide right in tune, encasing and surrounding you lulling and loving you. The shoulder to cry on then the forewarning word which evolves into broader critique. Go with it, let it whisper its urgent message in your ear whilst you sleep and dream of calmness and serenity, security and safety. Sleep and sway. A simple orchestration topped by the distinctive tonal voice, less growling and more seductive. Organs and pianos throw you between their rolls and side-steps. Then wake with the Spanish flavoured echoing guitar creating a distance from the message being given. A message of sweet terrible devastation. A mixture of past and future, present and never. A reasoned rhythmic reel of rhyme, a skipped slowly map of our times, summing the mood, completing the message. A missal from the future, showing us the results of our time. The voice has dragged me from song to song, hooked and caught fast on words and lines. Beautiful honesty betrays the scarring, too-old envelope which holds the letter. A hollow empty sadness fills me as he intones consequences and dire verse. Let's pray and play to our lord and saviour. Strain along with him beseeching the world to alter. Pulling me relentlessly. Asking me things I can't answer or don't want to, showing me another way things can work. When you think it's over the shrill harmonica still prevents immediate rest. Then again he cautions and ridiculous. Intoning what is to pass. 'They're selling postcards of the hanging'. The sheer brilliance captivates and contrasts. A mixed up zany, crazy world where all meaning and metaphor has been lost except this sombre voice of reason who sees more than we do. This desolate, bursting track is as out of reach of descriptive prose as is the entirety. Endless lost and wandering a secret destination not yet reveal, even this close to the end you still can't pull yourself from the on-going modern-day nursery rhyme, containing as much blood and guts as the best of Grim. Is it over all ready? Reach for play once more and start to cycle again. The voice of the 60s? No. The chill acidic voice of modernity. Listen to it all. Listen high, listen straight. Listen happy, sad, angry or relaxed. Just listen and you will understand it all. 'And the only sound that's left, After the ambulences go, Is Cinderella sweeping up, On Desolation Row' As featured in http://www.angrybettie.gq.nu
It had been a few months since the release of the successful ‘Bringing It All Back Home’ LP and the public could barely hold its breath for a moment before the next Dylan offering, Highway 61 Revisited. It was his 1st all electric album and some of his very best lyrics are on this CD. It has some excellent stadium songs (Like A Rolling Stone, Tombstone Blues, Highway 61 Revisited which was the last song he played when I saw him a few months ago in Kilkenny, in fact he played about 2/3 off this LP), and also some heart – stopping, shivers down the back of your neck tracks (Desolation Row, Ballad Of A Thin Man). At the time of writing and recording Dylan was on a world tour and trying to cope with angry folkies that were outraged by side 1 of Bringing It All Back Home and his new look. Amidst all of this he was trying to conquer the world with his new endeavour: rock ‘n’ roll. He was literally going were no man had gone before. No one had ever played his or her music so loud or with so much conviction. At the time he was on the verge of changing music forever with this record. If Highway 61 Revisited was never released rock, as we know it, wouldn’t exist. Dylan has influenced so many people that most of today’s artists are trying to copy him. And failing miserably. There have been a few good musicians who were largely influenced but most just sound like bad tribute bands. As good as this CD is, Dylan was to eclipse even Bringing It All Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited with Blonde On Blonde. He did all this within a year and these three made up ‘the big hair/drugs trilogy’ (this trilogy is even better than the Star Wars trilogy, now that’s saying something). But for the moment, I’m talking about Highway 61 Revisited. This one caused uproar among the folk followers who took Dylan’s change in style personally. After the 1st single of BIABH, Subterra nean Homesick Blues, the folkies were fairly unhappy. Think of the anger they felt when Like A Rolling Stone came on the radio. At that time songs were usually 2 to 3 minutes long. But this was 6 minutes of loud r ‘n’ r (which is the enemy of Americana). From now until the end of his tour, Dylan would be tormented by the folkies. This young man was put under so much pressure it amazes me. How he coped and even managed to write music that changed the world? Don’t ask me. At times, the lyrics aren’t quite the poetry that you associate with Dylan (in Tombstone Blues he shouts, “The sun is not yellow, it’s chicken”. Anyone?) but for the most part his lyrics have never been better. Desolation Row alone gives the LP 5 stars, never mind the rest of it. It’s an 11-minute marathon that’s just an epic and one of Dylan’s best compositions. No matter how many times you listen to it, Desolation Row doesn’t get boring. You always get caught up in the story. In “Like A Rolling Stone” he tells the tale of how a woman has lost all of her money and, with that, her dignity, pride and (most importantly to her) her social status. Dylan is obviously enraged at this woman and happy that she has to be scrounging down her next meal. He is angry with her because of her two – facedness and (as usual with Dylan) the lyrics are still relevant today. However, by far the best lyrical statement is in the song “Highway 61 Revisited”. Here’s the 1st verse: “God said to Abraham ‘kill me a son’/ Abe said ‘man, you must be putting me on’/ God said ‘no’/ Abe said ‘what?’/ God said ‘you can do what you want Abe but the next time you see me coming you had better run’…/ Abe said ‘where do you want this killing done?’/ God said ‘out on highway 61’. These are some of the best lyrics ever written in music and poetry. However, almost every track on this record has a few lyrics that must have been written while high. The big improvement between Dylan’s folk music and his r ‘n‘ r stuff is that the music itself plays a bigger role. The lead guitarist, Michael Bloomfield, has many memorable fills on this album. There is an almost perfect balance between the importance of the music and the lyrics on Highway 61 Revisited. That’s what makes it so special. This album single – handily redefined rock and pop music. It totally changed everyone’s perception on music from now on.
The first time Bob plugged his guitar into an amp, swapping irritating folksy rubbish for a bluesy, catchy kick ass rock n' roll his band of hippy followers booed him off the stage. Philistines. This album is a cracking example of the creative talent of a singer/songwriter of the kind that music today so desperately attempts to imitate, but never manages to equal. Where is the passion and rage of the outstanding anthem 'Like a Rolling Stone' to be found in the blandness of the likes of Travis-ity and the Stereotypicals? The lyrics are outstanding (and are of a much higher standard than Dylan's singing): just listen to the outraged cynicism of the album's title track 'God said to Abraham 'Kill me a son'/ Abe said 'Man you must be puttin me on/God said no/ Abe said What?/God said you can do what you want hey but/ Next time you see me comin you'd better run....' There's a clear two fingers up at the idea of an benevolent God if ever there was one... 'Tombstone Blues' is another track that has me jumping around the room: its pace and energy are utterly infectious. It also goes to prove that rock-pop is at its best when its simple but powerful. Great stuff. The rest of the album's tracks show us a more introspective Dylan but are equally powerful. 'The Ballad of Queen Jane' is especially memorable: again with poetic lyrics and backed by pretty piano. However, I found a few tracks much less listenable - Desolation Row is just too depressing for me to give it the thumbs up. Similarly, although I do think that 'Ballad of a Thin Man' is a good song, I just can't listen to it - it's far too bleak. Overall though, this one is definitely worth forking out for. If you too are disallusioned by today's utter lack of creativity, give this a listen and remind yourself how rock and roll ought to be, if originality actually meant a band would sell more re cords...
Disc #1 Tracklisting
1 Like A Rolling Stone
2 Tombstone Blues
3 It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry
4 From A Buick 6
5 Ballad Of A Thin Man
6 Queen Jane Approximately
7 Highway 61 Revisited
8 Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues
9 Desolation Row