Self Portrait (1970)
1. All The Tired Horses
2. Alberta #1
3. I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know
4. Days of '49
5. Early Morning Rain
6. In Search of Little Sadie
7. Let it Be Me
8. Little Sadie
9. Woogie Boogie
10.Belle Isle
11.Living the Blues
12.Like a Rolling Stone
13.Copper Kettle
14.Gotta Travel On
15.Blue Moon
16.The Boxer
17.Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)
18.Take Me As I Am
19.Take a Message to Mary
20.It Hurts Me Too
21.Minstrel Boy
22.She Belongs To Me
23.Wigwam
24.Alberta #2
 
Before one reviews arguably the worst
album in the Bob Dylan collection, a bit of background is necessary.
Throughout the 1960's, the hippie crazed culture regarded Dylan as
nothing less than a god. This was a monicker he was never comfortable
with, and many times throughout the first decade of his career, he would
change things up in his style of music and, one has
to wonder, if he was hoping to shake that label somewhat. Well, that
never actually worked. Even when the folk crowds would boo him at his
live shows in the mid sixties, it probably never really shaved any real
points off of his talent and credibility.
By the time this album was being produced, Dylan was probably desperate
for some breathing room - he wanted to be a musician and not a messiah,
so, as he has admitted in interviews throughout the years, he purposely
made this one awful. Now, to be fair, Dylan always was an enigma, so
there are those who point to different things that this man has done and said to
contradict the above tidbit, so maybe no one can know for sure. There
are even those people who claim that this record is actually
good. Those individuals are rare, but if you come across one, I
would advise you to run the other way.
Not only is the music just plain bad, but it overreaches in terms of
its badness. He spreads out this embarrassment over an entire double
album and he seems to incorporate every one of his recent styles to
apparently lose continuity as well as make horrible music. The opening
track is an excellent prelude for this disaster. All the Tired
Horses doesn't even feature the man on the song. It has a few female singers
crooning over orchestrated music singing "All the Tired Horses in the
Sun / How am I s'possed to get any riding done?" over and over. And
over. It's almost as if Dylan is mocking his current situation. Just
substitute the lyric "riding" with "writing" and you might get the
picture.
The less said about this whole album the better. You may see a few
songs you recognize (Like a Rolling Stone, She Belongs to
Me and The Mighty Quinn (Quinn the Eskimo), yet these songs
are not the original versions that you know and love. The "live" songs are even bad (although you may even
argue that they're not even "live" because you hear what does sound like an audience
applauding etc., but the performances are so bad, you wonder if the
audience was dubbed in), so don't be fooled. The only thing on this
album that is somewhat decent, is a cover of Gordon Lightfoot's Early
Morning Rain, yet it's buried so deep within this garbage that the
song has no resonating value.
Had this been a single album, it still couldn't pass as being
respectable. There are those that point to the title of this album in
the hopes of somehow justifying what's on here - i.e. "self" means he
was "exposing" his emotions and being raw, purposely unfocused etc.
I don't buy it. This
was purposely a horrible record. It had to be.
Go back to the main page
Go To Next Review