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That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound Lib/E: Dylan, Nashville, and the Making of Blonde on Blonde
That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound is the definitive treatment of Bob Dylan’s magnum opus, Blonde on Blonde, not only providing the most extensive account of the sessions that produced the trailblazing album, but also setting the record straight on much of the misinformation that has surrounded the story of how the masterpiece came to be made. Including many new details and eyewitness accounts never before published, as well as keen insight into the Nashville cats who helped Dylan reach rare artistic heights, it explores the lasting impact of rock’s first double album. Based on exhaustive research and in-depth interviews with the producer, the session musicians, studio personnel, management personnel and others, Daryl Sanders chronicles the road that took Dylan from New York to Nashville in search of “that thin, wild mercury sound.” As Dylan told Playboy in 1978, the closest he ever came to capturing that sound was in Studio A at Columbia’s Music City headquarters during the Blonde on Blonde sessions, where the voice of a generation was backed by musicians of the highest order.
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Published October 2, 2018
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October 22, 2018
I couldn't resist this exploration of three of my favorite subjects: Bob Dylan, the Nashville music scene, and those crazy fecund years of 1966-67 and their impact on our music and culture. Author Sanders really drills down into the recording of Blonde on Blonde, session by session, lick by lick, lyric by lyric. Maybe you need to be a little obsessed to dwell so deeply on the rhyme scheme of "Visions of Johanna," and whether it resembles the English or Italian form of the sonnet, but even for those not quite so afflicted with Dylophilia, there's still plenty of fun and interesting bits of legend and lore. Examples you say? Well, I didn't realize that Charlie McCoy, the guitarist/guru of the "Nashville Cats" who played on BOB, was also "instrumental" in creating the now ubiquitous Nashville Number System. You'll also hear the story of Al Kooper's first threesome and its impact on his appearance on the album (all PG stuff, don't worry). We also hear how Bob came to play a black Telecaster with a white pickguard, how Kris Kristofferson got his first job at Columbia Records Studio A, and who that is laughing on the Rainy Day Women track, among a myriad other anecdotes, rumors, factoids and significa (to those who care about this sort of thing). Look, this is for fans, and for those who love hearing how the events of fifty some years ago still resonate (literally!). The author has done a great job of pulling together sources and interviews with the principals and even those on the periphery. If you enjoy this kind of behind the scenes deep dive, you'll find this to be catnip of the purest provenance!
March 7, 2019
Daryl Sanders' account of the making of Bob Dylan's Blonde on Blonde, a landmark album whose influence resonates to the present day, is a fascinating read for Dylan fans and will also be of interest to anyone curious about the history of rock'n'roll music writing and production. Sanders offers a well-paced mixture of narrative, first-hand accounts from an array of interview subjects, and an analysis of the unusual writing and recording process that resulted in the album.
The book begins in the summer of 1965, as Dylan, who had grown dissatisfied with producer Tom Wilson following the recording of "Like a Rolling Stone," was matched with a new Columbia Records staff producer, Bob Johnston. Johnston had actively campaigned within the company to work with Dylan, and his style of production offered Dylan more latitude in the studio to pursue his creative vision of a new rock'n'roll sound than he had experienced with Wilson. Returning to Columbia's New York studios, the immediate result of this new collaboration was all of the other tracks on Highway 61 Revisited, a major album in its own right.
Nevertheless, Dylan had a problem. Gearing up for a North American tour that would include 40 dates between August 28 and December 19 he found himself without a band to back him, as the musicians who played on Highway 61 Revisited declined the opportunity to go out on tour. Scrambling to line up musicians who could produce the sound he was aiming for, Dylan received a fateful tip from onee of his manager's secretaries that led him to the Hawks, a mostly Canadian band then trying to establish themselves in the U.S. Initially seeking to hire only guitarist Robbie Robertson, Dylan was eventually convinced to employ the entire group as the tour dates began.
By October Dylan was ready to return to the studio to begin work on his next album. Over a period of four months (in between concert dates) Dylan and the Hawks attempted to record nine songs, but Dylan was mostly unhappy with the results and only one recording from these sessions, for the song "One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)," made it onto the next album. Sanders doesn't offer many insights into the sources of the problem, but it's likely that Dylan and the Hawks were still adjusting to each other at this point and had not yet forged the kind of musical unity that would become evident as the tour progressed into the following year. The Hawks were a hard-edged rhythm and blues combo who had cut their teeth backing Ronnie Hawkins for four years before striking out on their own. They had little familiarity with the folk idiom out of which Dylan came and which still informed much of his songwriting, despite his move toward rock arrangements. For his part, Dylan's method of studio recording was highly idiosyncratic. He would typically run through a song on piano or guitar, followed by brief rehearsals in which the musicians would develop their own arrangements, and then start recording takes until he was satisfied. In between takes he might offer only minimal or vague feedback about what he liked or didn't like, and although he was willing to do multiple takes on a song he favored the "lightning-in-a-bottle" sound one could get when a song was relatively fresh and spontaneous. Generally, he would not persist if the energy in the room was fading.
Producer Johnston had an idea for resolving Dylan's frustration, suggesting he move the recording sessions to Columbia's studios in Nashville. Johnston had experience in Nashville and was aware of a rising generation of young studio musicians who were Dylan's contemporaries. They were as familiar with the rock'n'roll and rhythm'n'blues styles as he was, while also being steeped in a host of other musical styles. They were also highly disciplined professionals well-acquainted with the routines of Nashville music production, where they were expected to get master recordings finished on tight schedules and on budget. While many of Dylan's New York associates regarded Nashville as a bastion of traditionalism that he should avoid, Dylan trusted Johnston enough to give it a try, believing he had little to lose after the New York session.
By a stroke of good fortune, Dylan had at this time a rare asset to facilitate his work in Nashville. Musician Al Kooper, who had almost accidentally contributed the signature organ part on "Like a Rolling Stone" and the rest of the Highway 61 Revisited songs, accompanied Dylan to Nashville and served as a de facto intermediary between Dylan and the Nashville musicians. Kooper would typically be the first to hear the new songs, working with Dylan at their hotel on arrangements and other details, then going early to the studio to rehearse with the musicians and edit charts while Dylan continued to work on lyrics.
From the musicians' perspective, the sessions were fairly unorthodox. Sanders' account of the eight recording sessions, which ran from February 14 through March 10 of 1966, with breaks in between while Dylan was performing concerts or otherwise occupied, describe a common pattern. The musicians usually arrived at the studio at 6:00 pm and waited for Dylan to arrive, sometimes for several hours. When he showed up, he often sequestered himself in an area of the studio to continue work on unfinished lyrics or arrangements until he was ready to begin recording. On several occasions the musicians were not summoned to begin working on the songs until well after midnight, with sessions wrapping up just before dawn or even later. Most songs required numerous takes, marked with false starts, breakdowns, technical problems, and Dylan's penchant for continuing to revise and refine lyrics on subsequent takes. Dylan and Johnston could afford to do this on Columbia's dime in 1966 because the company regarded Dylan as a hot property and worth the money. The musicians had few complaints about being paid at union scale for their time, whether they played or not, but most found the sessions challenging, especially when they were scheduled for morning sessions with another artist and operating on little or no sleep.
In 2015 Dylan released "The Bootleg Series Vol. 12: The Cutting Edge 1965–1966," including an 18-disc collector's edition that contains all of these takes, so the curious can have a soundtrack to accompany Sanders' narrative and hear the songs evolving both musically and lyrically through multiple takes. Even without this audio, however, Sanders makes clear that the Nashville musicians had little difficulty coming up with sympathetic arrangements that captured the sound in Dylan's head, with minimal guidance and encouragement from Johnston. It may have been a combination of their quick virtuosity, their broad musical palette, and their closeness to Dylan as a generational peer that enabled them to create the varied soundscapes that make Blonde on Blonde such a striking album.
Sanders concludes with a brief account of the impact Blonde on Blonde had on rock music and of the impact Dylan's sessions had on Nashville itself. In the years following Blonde on Blonde's release, rock musicians from other parts of the country flocked to Nashville, revitalizing the city as a music center for many genres and undoubtedly contributing to the cross-fertilization of country and rock music that would emerge in the wake of Dylan's experience. The studio musicians Dylan worked with found themselves in high demand for many years afterward and contributed to countless recordings. Dylan also returned to Nashville to record his next three studio albums, but Blonde on Blonde remains the towering achievement of this period, and Sanders' book does justice to the story.
The book begins in the summer of 1965, as Dylan, who had grown dissatisfied with producer Tom Wilson following the recording of "Like a Rolling Stone," was matched with a new Columbia Records staff producer, Bob Johnston. Johnston had actively campaigned within the company to work with Dylan, and his style of production offered Dylan more latitude in the studio to pursue his creative vision of a new rock'n'roll sound than he had experienced with Wilson. Returning to Columbia's New York studios, the immediate result of this new collaboration was all of the other tracks on Highway 61 Revisited, a major album in its own right.
Nevertheless, Dylan had a problem. Gearing up for a North American tour that would include 40 dates between August 28 and December 19 he found himself without a band to back him, as the musicians who played on Highway 61 Revisited declined the opportunity to go out on tour. Scrambling to line up musicians who could produce the sound he was aiming for, Dylan received a fateful tip from onee of his manager's secretaries that led him to the Hawks, a mostly Canadian band then trying to establish themselves in the U.S. Initially seeking to hire only guitarist Robbie Robertson, Dylan was eventually convinced to employ the entire group as the tour dates began.
By October Dylan was ready to return to the studio to begin work on his next album. Over a period of four months (in between concert dates) Dylan and the Hawks attempted to record nine songs, but Dylan was mostly unhappy with the results and only one recording from these sessions, for the song "One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)," made it onto the next album. Sanders doesn't offer many insights into the sources of the problem, but it's likely that Dylan and the Hawks were still adjusting to each other at this point and had not yet forged the kind of musical unity that would become evident as the tour progressed into the following year. The Hawks were a hard-edged rhythm and blues combo who had cut their teeth backing Ronnie Hawkins for four years before striking out on their own. They had little familiarity with the folk idiom out of which Dylan came and which still informed much of his songwriting, despite his move toward rock arrangements. For his part, Dylan's method of studio recording was highly idiosyncratic. He would typically run through a song on piano or guitar, followed by brief rehearsals in which the musicians would develop their own arrangements, and then start recording takes until he was satisfied. In between takes he might offer only minimal or vague feedback about what he liked or didn't like, and although he was willing to do multiple takes on a song he favored the "lightning-in-a-bottle" sound one could get when a song was relatively fresh and spontaneous. Generally, he would not persist if the energy in the room was fading.
Producer Johnston had an idea for resolving Dylan's frustration, suggesting he move the recording sessions to Columbia's studios in Nashville. Johnston had experience in Nashville and was aware of a rising generation of young studio musicians who were Dylan's contemporaries. They were as familiar with the rock'n'roll and rhythm'n'blues styles as he was, while also being steeped in a host of other musical styles. They were also highly disciplined professionals well-acquainted with the routines of Nashville music production, where they were expected to get master recordings finished on tight schedules and on budget. While many of Dylan's New York associates regarded Nashville as a bastion of traditionalism that he should avoid, Dylan trusted Johnston enough to give it a try, believing he had little to lose after the New York session.
By a stroke of good fortune, Dylan had at this time a rare asset to facilitate his work in Nashville. Musician Al Kooper, who had almost accidentally contributed the signature organ part on "Like a Rolling Stone" and the rest of the Highway 61 Revisited songs, accompanied Dylan to Nashville and served as a de facto intermediary between Dylan and the Nashville musicians. Kooper would typically be the first to hear the new songs, working with Dylan at their hotel on arrangements and other details, then going early to the studio to rehearse with the musicians and edit charts while Dylan continued to work on lyrics.
From the musicians' perspective, the sessions were fairly unorthodox. Sanders' account of the eight recording sessions, which ran from February 14 through March 10 of 1966, with breaks in between while Dylan was performing concerts or otherwise occupied, describe a common pattern. The musicians usually arrived at the studio at 6:00 pm and waited for Dylan to arrive, sometimes for several hours. When he showed up, he often sequestered himself in an area of the studio to continue work on unfinished lyrics or arrangements until he was ready to begin recording. On several occasions the musicians were not summoned to begin working on the songs until well after midnight, with sessions wrapping up just before dawn or even later. Most songs required numerous takes, marked with false starts, breakdowns, technical problems, and Dylan's penchant for continuing to revise and refine lyrics on subsequent takes. Dylan and Johnston could afford to do this on Columbia's dime in 1966 because the company regarded Dylan as a hot property and worth the money. The musicians had few complaints about being paid at union scale for their time, whether they played or not, but most found the sessions challenging, especially when they were scheduled for morning sessions with another artist and operating on little or no sleep.
In 2015 Dylan released "The Bootleg Series Vol. 12: The Cutting Edge 1965–1966," including an 18-disc collector's edition that contains all of these takes, so the curious can have a soundtrack to accompany Sanders' narrative and hear the songs evolving both musically and lyrically through multiple takes. Even without this audio, however, Sanders makes clear that the Nashville musicians had little difficulty coming up with sympathetic arrangements that captured the sound in Dylan's head, with minimal guidance and encouragement from Johnston. It may have been a combination of their quick virtuosity, their broad musical palette, and their closeness to Dylan as a generational peer that enabled them to create the varied soundscapes that make Blonde on Blonde such a striking album.
Sanders concludes with a brief account of the impact Blonde on Blonde had on rock music and of the impact Dylan's sessions had on Nashville itself. In the years following Blonde on Blonde's release, rock musicians from other parts of the country flocked to Nashville, revitalizing the city as a music center for many genres and undoubtedly contributing to the cross-fertilization of country and rock music that would emerge in the wake of Dylan's experience. The studio musicians Dylan worked with found themselves in high demand for many years afterward and contributed to countless recordings. Dylan also returned to Nashville to record his next three studio albums, but Blonde on Blonde remains the towering achievement of this period, and Sanders' book does justice to the story.
April 20, 2019
I found this compulsive, perhaps mainly because of a renewal of enthusiasm for the great album B on B. The writer is inevitably an anorak --lots of excessive detail about what mumblings were in the control booth on the endless takes of songs and so on. Some tantalizing references on for example Baez, Sedgwick, and Sarah Lowndes left me thinking why doesn't he fill in the gaps and tell us something about the nature of Dylan's relationships -- present and past -- which intimately inform the B on B songs. Sanders was more interested in the careers of the session musicians which is really marginal stuff in my view and not that interesting. But with these smallish criticisms I recommend this to Dylanophiles and enthusiasts for one of rock's greats albums.
June 17, 2020
Bob Dylan's Blonde On Blonde was not only the first double LP record in history (depending on its official release date which may or may not be prior to Frank Zappa & The Mothers Of Invention's Freak Out) but the first time an east coast folk/rock singer songwriter went to Nashville to record with the talented group of studio musicians who were that city's attraction. The results changed music history forever. From then on nothing in songwriting, the direction of music, recording, the history of Nashville, popular and world music was ever the same. Music Journalist Daryl Sanders covers the history of that momentous event in his extremely knowledgeable and readable book. A must-read for anyone interesting in popular music, Nashville, or Bob Dylan. - BH.
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May 4, 2024Did you know that the LA County Library provides battery disposal services? But the City of Los Angeles Library does not do any battery disposal whatsoever...and so in which case I drove all the way out to the West Hollywood Library, a beautiful building situated in a lovely park in an area of Los Angeles County I otherwise disdain and hold in nothing but contempt. But anyway, once I dumped my batteries and picked up some Narcan (Did you know that the LA County Library provides free Narcan? Gotta love the library!) I went to browse books and in particular books on Nashville, since I'm working on a Nashville related project right now, and that's how I ended up taking out this book on Bob Dylan, a guy I used to be fairly enamored of, in the normal way boys are in their teens and in college, but you know I thought I sort of grew out of my Dylan obsession several years ago particularly after I came out of the closet (if it's permissable to use this term to refer to when you started wearing dresses in public) and began listening to the canonical divas (Donna Summer, Diane Ross, Dionne Warwick, Janet Jackson) not to mention Britney Spears, Kim Petras, and Slayyyyter, in other words I started listening to more or less the anti-Bob Dylan, and more importantly began prioritizing listening people who actually know how to sing pretty (although Nashville Skyline suggests Bob does have some idea of how to sing pretty but actively chooses not to on his other records). Anyway, due primarily to the influence of the Henrys (Moser and Merlin, or Nowhere and Laurence depending on the translation) I have gradually come back around to ol Robert Zimmerman, the Dude from Duluth hisself, and in fact now own Nashville Skyline, John Wesley Harding on vinyl, as well as some such Bootleg series cash in crap with insensible packaging, ludricrous organization, just a real nasty piece of work but Henry Merlin bought it for me as an apology for giving me and my friends covid, which is an awfully sweet thing to do. You see I didn't have any vinyl throughout my first phase of loving Dylan, and it was in this first phase that I listened to Blonde on Blonde for the first time and then again over and over again endlessly, more often than any of this other albums save perhaps Highway 61 Revisted...and so this book ended up holding some interest to me, because I am after all quite familiar with its subject matter, and it does after all hold a special place in my heart and my head and my mind and my brain. But the book unfortunately has an exceptionally boring chassis and by this I mean the main body of the work - the painstaking blow blow of every single session, and most particularly the close analysis of lyrics, lyrics sheets, drafts, but also the out and out transcription of the session tapes - it's nearly worthless, at least to me, and admittedly huge fan of the album Blonde on Blonde, even if I don't listen to incessantly as I did when I was 20 years old. The saving grace of the book are what we could call (if we were feeling unbearably clever) its gracenotes, or what might possibly be better described as its asides, its digressions, its tangents, and most of all its side characters and their stories. Of most interest is Charlie McCoy, the most fascinating of the so-called Nashville Cats, who seemingly could play any instrument (and did!) including the wild harmonica on Obviously Five Believers (if you thought Dylan could play harmonica that good, or skilfully at all for that matter, you must not have listened to him play on literally any of this other songs) (when he was about 20 years old McCoy played harmonica on Candy Man by Roy Orbison and I Just Don't Undestand by Ann-Margret). McCoy also played the transcendent flamenco influenced guitar on Desolation Row, and this is what ultimately convinced Dylan to go record in Nashville with some of the best musicians America has to offer (including Pig Harbus, another character the book should've featured more prominently). Get this, Charlie McCoy played bass guitar and trumpet Most Likely You Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine) and he did it AT THE SAME TIME because Dylan didn't like overdubs. So like he blew on the trumpet while using his other hand to continue playing the bass. Super Human!
So yeah the reason to read this book is for all the little detours and obscure music business people like Mary Martin, the secretary to Dylan's manager Albert Grossman, who was once a groupie up in Toronto floating around a band once called Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks before eventually leaving Ronnie and becoming Levon Helm and the Hawks, at which point they became Dylan's backing band, and sometime after that became known as just The Band. But see if you can grok this - the Hawks weren't actually good enough to record Blonde on Blonde - Dylan was frustrated with their musical chops and that's why he had to decamp to Nashville (although he brought Robbie Robertson along with him). Ronnie Hawkins is another interesting character, and to be absolutely honest with you the best thing about this book is all the music it introduced me to such as:
Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks ("Forty Days" is a great tune but check out their song "Horace" if you really want to hear how a bird ought to scream)
Levon Helm and the Hawks ("He Don't Love You")
Charlie McCoy and the Escorts ("Harpoon Man" is a lost American Classic)
"It Hurts Me Too" by Elmore James (the basis for Dylan's "Pledging My Time")
"Automobile Blues" by Lighnin Hopkins (the basis for "Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat")
"Good Morning Little School Girl" (the original by Sonny Boy Williamson as well as other versions like the Muddy Waters one, clearly the basis for "Obviously Five Believers")
"Turn on Your Love Light" - Bobby Blue Bland
"Down in the Boondocks" by Billy Joe Royal
"Sheila" by Tommy Roe
...you know what it's probably easier if I just link to my spotify playlist that compiles songs and bands mentioned in the book: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7fA...
So yeah the reason to read this book is for all the little detours and obscure music business people like Mary Martin, the secretary to Dylan's manager Albert Grossman, who was once a groupie up in Toronto floating around a band once called Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks before eventually leaving Ronnie and becoming Levon Helm and the Hawks, at which point they became Dylan's backing band, and sometime after that became known as just The Band. But see if you can grok this - the Hawks weren't actually good enough to record Blonde on Blonde - Dylan was frustrated with their musical chops and that's why he had to decamp to Nashville (although he brought Robbie Robertson along with him). Ronnie Hawkins is another interesting character, and to be absolutely honest with you the best thing about this book is all the music it introduced me to such as:
Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks ("Forty Days" is a great tune but check out their song "Horace" if you really want to hear how a bird ought to scream)
Levon Helm and the Hawks ("He Don't Love You")
Charlie McCoy and the Escorts ("Harpoon Man" is a lost American Classic)
"It Hurts Me Too" by Elmore James (the basis for Dylan's "Pledging My Time")
"Automobile Blues" by Lighnin Hopkins (the basis for "Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat")
"Good Morning Little School Girl" (the original by Sonny Boy Williamson as well as other versions like the Muddy Waters one, clearly the basis for "Obviously Five Believers")
"Turn on Your Love Light" - Bobby Blue Bland
"Down in the Boondocks" by Billy Joe Royal
"Sheila" by Tommy Roe
...you know what it's probably easier if I just link to my spotify playlist that compiles songs and bands mentioned in the book: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7fA...
September 6, 2019
I used to reserve my five stars for timeless classics, but now I'm relaxing my rules.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. I learned a lot and totally enjoyed looking back on those days when Dylan did the first rock double album.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. I learned a lot and totally enjoyed looking back on those days when Dylan did the first rock double album.
January 26, 2020
Some thoughts:
On March 11, 1966 I travelled by train from Carbondale, IL, to St Louis, MO, to see Bob Dylan at Kiel Auditorium. He sang "Just Like A Woman" for the first time live during the acoustical set that night. I could find no set list or recording of that concert, but my memory tells me he rocked a lot of his folk and folked a lot of his rock. I don't remember any boos, but some walked out when the second (electric) set started.
That summer, I fumed at the cost (I vaguely remember $10 - almost $80 today) when Blonde on Blonde was released. I didn't have that kind of money then, but addictions are expensive.
Sanders' book helped me appreciate the music more than I have, but he makes the same mistake as all Dylan biographers make by attempting to interpret his lyrics.
On March 11, 1966 I travelled by train from Carbondale, IL, to St Louis, MO, to see Bob Dylan at Kiel Auditorium. He sang "Just Like A Woman" for the first time live during the acoustical set that night. I could find no set list or recording of that concert, but my memory tells me he rocked a lot of his folk and folked a lot of his rock. I don't remember any boos, but some walked out when the second (electric) set started.
That summer, I fumed at the cost (I vaguely remember $10 - almost $80 today) when Blonde on Blonde was released. I didn't have that kind of money then, but addictions are expensive.
Sanders' book helped me appreciate the music more than I have, but he makes the same mistake as all Dylan biographers make by attempting to interpret his lyrics.
August 11, 2020
So good!
October 20, 2018
Excellent. Review to come at www.memphisflyer.com
January 9, 2025
Nice indepth story about the history behind the recording of the greatest album of all times !
October 16, 2018
This was an insightful look into the making of a classic. I grew up with Dylan, learned how to play harmonica starting about Highway 61 Revisited. The background of the Nashville Cats was nice, I have listened to these folks 4 a long time. And a glimpse into Dylan's process...a lot of hard work & perseverance...and he is still creating, touring, etc.
October 8, 2018
Liked this book much more than I thought I would. It's the story, in about as much detail as possible, of the recording of Blonde On Blonde in New York and Nashville. Sanders got a lot of interviews, of seemingly everyone who had the slightest thing to do with the album, and it really pays off. And the recent release of the complete outtakes from those sessions reinforce and inform the whole book; he transcribes lots of dialog from those outtakes, and shows, as much as possible how the songs evolved (in the studio, the drafts of Dylan's writing are still sketchy, but no matter). You should, as I did, listen to the Cutting Edge, while reading the book. One odd omission is that Dylan married Sara on November 22, in the midst of these recordings, and though Sanders mentions her quite a bit, the fact that he got married in the midst of writing and recording this album about women (and gates and waiting, as he notes) goes unmentioned and has always been amazing to me. No matter: Blonde on Blonde is one of the great works of art, and this book does justice to its recording.
February 17, 2025
Written for the reader interested in Dylan’s creative output, "Mercury" is an accessible read. A hopped up Dylan and square Nashville virtuosos coming together in Winter 1966 to make a masterpiece is compelling, very detailed, and based on many direct interviews and testimony of people around at the time of the Blonde on Blonde sessions. Good Read.
November 20, 2020
Disclosure: “Blonde on Blonde” is my favorite album.
In the 39(!) years since I first bought Bob Dylan’s 1966 classic as a curious 16-year-old who’d read about it from best-of lists, it has rarely failed to seduce me. There’s an energy about it that is equaled by few other records in my estimation – “Revolver,” “Moby Grape,” maybe Television’s “Marquee Moon” and the Clash’s “London Calling.” As with those albums, there are unpolished instances where things threaten to go completely off the rails, but that unpredictability only makes the music more powerful and transcendent. I can think of few moments more sublime than, say, the big G chord near the end of “Got to Get You Into My Life,” or the frenzied sprint into the last chorus of “Brand New Cadillac.”
But “Blonde on Blonde” has something more: Dylan’s lyrics. Opaque, imagistic, funny – “Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat” always makes me laugh – I don’t read into them as much as the budding A.J. Webermans of our time, but there’s no question that they provide a bottomless well of metaphor for those who seek that kind of thing. (For the rest of us, they just sound good.)
I wish Daryl Sanders’ chronicle of “Blonde on Blonde,” “That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound” – the title comes from Dylan himself, expressing a yearning for what he was hearing in his head – had the same kind of energy and unpredictability. Instead, it’s an adequate biography with some interesting detours, but on the whole simply an extended magazine article.
Sanders does do a service by pointing out that the key to understanding the sound of “Blonde on Blonde” is Nashville, where Dylan relocated after some abortive New York sessions after the success of “Like a Rolling Stone.” That single had peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100, making Dylan an unlikely hitmaker after years of others, such as Peter, Paul & Mary and the Byrds, streamlining Dylan’s voice-guitar-harmonica songs into Top 40-friendly pop hits. Though “Stone” was produced by Tom Wilson, Dylan had switched afterwards to Bob Johnston, a Columbia Records staff producer who both gave the bard more freedom and had a better sense on how to record his roughest rock ‘n’ roll edges. (Compare the clanging “Maggie’s Farm,” off the Wilson-produced “Bringing It All Back Home,” with the Johnston-produced “Tombstone Blues,” from the follow-up, “Highway 61 Revisited.”)
Johnston had a feeling Dylan would mesh well with some of Nashville’s top session men, including multi-instrumentalist Charlie McCoy, drummer Kenneth Buttrey, pianist Hargus “Pig” Robbins, bassist Henry Strzelecki, and guitarists Joe South, Wayne Moss, and Mac Gayden. With some other Dylan sidemen, notably organist Al Kooper and guitarist Robbie Robertson, in the mix, “Blonde on Blonde” ended up making Nashville more than the country music capital it had been, with other rock musicians visiting town to get some of the Dylan magic.
In the detail that surprised me most, that magic often came at the end of long – very long – nights. The Nashville session guys would gather in the afternoon at Columbia’s Studio A and Dylan would arrive, usually with songs unfinished. So the session men would get paid for one three-hour session, then a second, sometimes more, as they waited in the canteen, smoking cigarettes or playing pool but not actually playing music. Finally Dylan would emerge and recording would start in earnest, the group, in Sanders’ telling, palpably exhausted.
This is how we got “Fourth Time Around,” “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands,” “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again,” and “Absolutely Sweet Marie,” among others. It’s as if the group flicked a switch and the electricity flowed through them.
Another surprise, to me, was how young the Nashville pros were. Perhaps because Music City didn’t seem rock ‘n’ roll friendly in the mid-‘60s, I’d pictured McCoy, Buttrey and the others as mildly grizzled guys in their 30s and 40s, Hank Williams veterans resistant to Dylan’s style. Instead, McCoy was the leader of Nashville’s top rock band, the Escorts, and all of 24 when he started recording “Blonde on Blonde.” Buttrey was 20. The others were only slightly older.
For all this, Sanders’ book somehow lacks the same electricity – or even the ghost of electricity -- that the album has. He goes into minutia about takes and studio chatter, great for a Dylan completist but adding little to the story. He quotes from clippings and other memoirs in a way that seems separate from his story (this is what sometimes makes the book feel like a long magazine article). He turns to people like Robyn Hitchcock and Dave Marsh for commentary; Marsh, who is very much capable of investing his prose with electricity, would have been better off writing his own book.
And the Nashville cats themselves are a rather modest bunch. Dylan surprised them and stretched them, but they are, at bottom, professionals – not wild-eyed Keith Moons shoving TVs out of hotel windows. Making music was, and for many still is, their job, as regular as punching a clock at a factory. They just happen to be very, very good at it, but they’re less good at talking about it.
The phrase “that thin, wild mercury sound” brings to mind a medieval alchemist, combining ingots of rare earth, the fur of feral dogs, and bits of Scripture an igniting it with a literal fiery passion. Perhaps that’s what makes “Blonde on Blonde” so special, a chemistry that can’t be recreated, and Sanders – as the old comparison claims – may as well be dancing about architecture in trying to write about it.
Dylan, of course, doesn’t need to say anything. “Blonde on Blonde” has said it all for him already. Sooner or later, we all know that.
In the 39(!) years since I first bought Bob Dylan’s 1966 classic as a curious 16-year-old who’d read about it from best-of lists, it has rarely failed to seduce me. There’s an energy about it that is equaled by few other records in my estimation – “Revolver,” “Moby Grape,” maybe Television’s “Marquee Moon” and the Clash’s “London Calling.” As with those albums, there are unpolished instances where things threaten to go completely off the rails, but that unpredictability only makes the music more powerful and transcendent. I can think of few moments more sublime than, say, the big G chord near the end of “Got to Get You Into My Life,” or the frenzied sprint into the last chorus of “Brand New Cadillac.”
But “Blonde on Blonde” has something more: Dylan’s lyrics. Opaque, imagistic, funny – “Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat” always makes me laugh – I don’t read into them as much as the budding A.J. Webermans of our time, but there’s no question that they provide a bottomless well of metaphor for those who seek that kind of thing. (For the rest of us, they just sound good.)
I wish Daryl Sanders’ chronicle of “Blonde on Blonde,” “That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound” – the title comes from Dylan himself, expressing a yearning for what he was hearing in his head – had the same kind of energy and unpredictability. Instead, it’s an adequate biography with some interesting detours, but on the whole simply an extended magazine article.
Sanders does do a service by pointing out that the key to understanding the sound of “Blonde on Blonde” is Nashville, where Dylan relocated after some abortive New York sessions after the success of “Like a Rolling Stone.” That single had peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100, making Dylan an unlikely hitmaker after years of others, such as Peter, Paul & Mary and the Byrds, streamlining Dylan’s voice-guitar-harmonica songs into Top 40-friendly pop hits. Though “Stone” was produced by Tom Wilson, Dylan had switched afterwards to Bob Johnston, a Columbia Records staff producer who both gave the bard more freedom and had a better sense on how to record his roughest rock ‘n’ roll edges. (Compare the clanging “Maggie’s Farm,” off the Wilson-produced “Bringing It All Back Home,” with the Johnston-produced “Tombstone Blues,” from the follow-up, “Highway 61 Revisited.”)
Johnston had a feeling Dylan would mesh well with some of Nashville’s top session men, including multi-instrumentalist Charlie McCoy, drummer Kenneth Buttrey, pianist Hargus “Pig” Robbins, bassist Henry Strzelecki, and guitarists Joe South, Wayne Moss, and Mac Gayden. With some other Dylan sidemen, notably organist Al Kooper and guitarist Robbie Robertson, in the mix, “Blonde on Blonde” ended up making Nashville more than the country music capital it had been, with other rock musicians visiting town to get some of the Dylan magic.
In the detail that surprised me most, that magic often came at the end of long – very long – nights. The Nashville session guys would gather in the afternoon at Columbia’s Studio A and Dylan would arrive, usually with songs unfinished. So the session men would get paid for one three-hour session, then a second, sometimes more, as they waited in the canteen, smoking cigarettes or playing pool but not actually playing music. Finally Dylan would emerge and recording would start in earnest, the group, in Sanders’ telling, palpably exhausted.
This is how we got “Fourth Time Around,” “Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands,” “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again,” and “Absolutely Sweet Marie,” among others. It’s as if the group flicked a switch and the electricity flowed through them.
Another surprise, to me, was how young the Nashville pros were. Perhaps because Music City didn’t seem rock ‘n’ roll friendly in the mid-‘60s, I’d pictured McCoy, Buttrey and the others as mildly grizzled guys in their 30s and 40s, Hank Williams veterans resistant to Dylan’s style. Instead, McCoy was the leader of Nashville’s top rock band, the Escorts, and all of 24 when he started recording “Blonde on Blonde.” Buttrey was 20. The others were only slightly older.
For all this, Sanders’ book somehow lacks the same electricity – or even the ghost of electricity -- that the album has. He goes into minutia about takes and studio chatter, great for a Dylan completist but adding little to the story. He quotes from clippings and other memoirs in a way that seems separate from his story (this is what sometimes makes the book feel like a long magazine article). He turns to people like Robyn Hitchcock and Dave Marsh for commentary; Marsh, who is very much capable of investing his prose with electricity, would have been better off writing his own book.
And the Nashville cats themselves are a rather modest bunch. Dylan surprised them and stretched them, but they are, at bottom, professionals – not wild-eyed Keith Moons shoving TVs out of hotel windows. Making music was, and for many still is, their job, as regular as punching a clock at a factory. They just happen to be very, very good at it, but they’re less good at talking about it.
The phrase “that thin, wild mercury sound” brings to mind a medieval alchemist, combining ingots of rare earth, the fur of feral dogs, and bits of Scripture an igniting it with a literal fiery passion. Perhaps that’s what makes “Blonde on Blonde” so special, a chemistry that can’t be recreated, and Sanders – as the old comparison claims – may as well be dancing about architecture in trying to write about it.
Dylan, of course, doesn’t need to say anything. “Blonde on Blonde” has said it all for him already. Sooner or later, we all know that.
March 27, 2025
What Abraham Lincoln is to historians is probably what Bob Dylan is to music writers. I counted over a hundred separate titles focused on his life, times and music on this website alone. So what does Daryl Sanders bring to the ongoing Bobfest? While hardcore Dylan fans might disagree, Sanders digs up something new to recount about the man's legend. For the most part, he succeeds.
By limiting his focus to the historic "Blonde on Blonde" sessions, Sanders takes us inside the Nashville studio where almost all of the album was recorded. Dylan's then-producer Bob Johnston persuaded him to travel to the country music capital 0f Nashville to work with local musicians accustomed to mainstream work in that genre. Dylan was a stranger to these folks as much as they were to him. But Sanders shows how all formed the kind of mutual admiration society that makes for singular musical achievement.
But most accounts, B0b Dylan is the very definition of "inscrutable." This makes him difficult to write about and pretty much impossible to get to know. He has generally eluded public (maybe even private) self-examination of his work. Typically, he didn't afford Sanders any personal insight, but the still-living members of the Nashville band, especially multi-instrumentalist Charlie McCoy, have a great deal to say about the adventure - most of it quite complimentary, although often baffled by Dylan's working (sort of) methods.
It could have been a disaster. By 1966, Dylan's stature in the music world afforded him powers of both space and time. Especially time. Sanders reports that it was not unusual for the band to be kept waiting for hours upon hours as the bard completed his unique song lyrics. For a bunch of guys accustomed to knocking out several finished tunes a day, all this sitting around might have led to more than a little resentment. Instead, they enabled a mutual musical sympathy that pushed Dylan to new heights.
It's not entirely fair to fault Sanders' less-than-great writing style here. After all, he's following in the footsteps of acclaimed writers and a more than well-trod path. He certainly gets an A for efforrt. After all, this took place nearly 60(!) years ago, so original quotes and stories must have been hard to come by. It's not like people wrote letters, let alone email, in those days. Sanders manages the job quite well. Along the way, he creates a compelling narrative while digging up some fascinating details. The Dylan faithful will enjoy this latest contribution to the mountain of lore and legend.
By limiting his focus to the historic "Blonde on Blonde" sessions, Sanders takes us inside the Nashville studio where almost all of the album was recorded. Dylan's then-producer Bob Johnston persuaded him to travel to the country music capital 0f Nashville to work with local musicians accustomed to mainstream work in that genre. Dylan was a stranger to these folks as much as they were to him. But Sanders shows how all formed the kind of mutual admiration society that makes for singular musical achievement.
But most accounts, B0b Dylan is the very definition of "inscrutable." This makes him difficult to write about and pretty much impossible to get to know. He has generally eluded public (maybe even private) self-examination of his work. Typically, he didn't afford Sanders any personal insight, but the still-living members of the Nashville band, especially multi-instrumentalist Charlie McCoy, have a great deal to say about the adventure - most of it quite complimentary, although often baffled by Dylan's working (sort of) methods.
It could have been a disaster. By 1966, Dylan's stature in the music world afforded him powers of both space and time. Especially time. Sanders reports that it was not unusual for the band to be kept waiting for hours upon hours as the bard completed his unique song lyrics. For a bunch of guys accustomed to knocking out several finished tunes a day, all this sitting around might have led to more than a little resentment. Instead, they enabled a mutual musical sympathy that pushed Dylan to new heights.
It's not entirely fair to fault Sanders' less-than-great writing style here. After all, he's following in the footsteps of acclaimed writers and a more than well-trod path. He certainly gets an A for efforrt. After all, this took place nearly 60(!) years ago, so original quotes and stories must have been hard to come by. It's not like people wrote letters, let alone email, in those days. Sanders manages the job quite well. Along the way, he creates a compelling narrative while digging up some fascinating details. The Dylan faithful will enjoy this latest contribution to the mountain of lore and legend.
December 25, 2020
Imagine you're in Columbia studios in Nashville, TN watching Bob Dylan flip through the bible to finish Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands. You sit and listen as Dylan and Nashville studio musicians record songs that will end up on the album, "Blonde on Blonde."
In "That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound," Daryl Sanders gives the reader just this view. It's as if you are there to observe, take by take, the recording of the songs that appear on the first album Bob Dylan recorded in Nashville.
The background to this album is fascinating to learn. Dylan attempted to record these songs in New York City with his live backing band, who later become known as The Band, only to find it wasn't the sound he wanted. Sanders compares the takes he recorded in New York with The Band to the versions he recorded in Nashville with studio musicians and the difference is immediately noticeable when you go back to listen.
This book is also an interesting introduction to the process of recording and music production. I imagine it's completely different than recording today but the history is worthwhile to learn. I thought it was especially interesting to learn how studio musicians like Charley McCoy collaborated with Dylan to produce the sound you hear on the record. Dylan came in with the bones and lyrics and was open to improvisation to produce the final sound.
This book contains, at times, painstaking detail about a piece of Dylan's songwriting and recording history, but delivers in providing a satisfying look into an influential album in the canon of American popular music.
In "That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound," Daryl Sanders gives the reader just this view. It's as if you are there to observe, take by take, the recording of the songs that appear on the first album Bob Dylan recorded in Nashville.
The background to this album is fascinating to learn. Dylan attempted to record these songs in New York City with his live backing band, who later become known as The Band, only to find it wasn't the sound he wanted. Sanders compares the takes he recorded in New York with The Band to the versions he recorded in Nashville with studio musicians and the difference is immediately noticeable when you go back to listen.
This book is also an interesting introduction to the process of recording and music production. I imagine it's completely different than recording today but the history is worthwhile to learn. I thought it was especially interesting to learn how studio musicians like Charley McCoy collaborated with Dylan to produce the sound you hear on the record. Dylan came in with the bones and lyrics and was open to improvisation to produce the final sound.
This book contains, at times, painstaking detail about a piece of Dylan's songwriting and recording history, but delivers in providing a satisfying look into an influential album in the canon of American popular music.
November 30, 2020
This was a chance discovery in an online second-hand bookstore. As a long-time Dylan fan, I found the title intriguing and wanted to know more about the making of this iconic album. There is a wealth of information about the musicians who contributed and the development of the individual songs, including photographs of some of Dylan's handwritten lyrics. This is the book's strength and if you are interested in the finer technical details of musicianship, there is plenty of detail here. However, the author also attempts to cover analysis of the lyrics, a topic which has been widely discussed elsewhere and to be honest a book of this length cannot really do justice to: even the most casual Dylan fan is probably aware of most of this material and it is more exhaustively covered in other works, such as Michael Gray's 'Song and Dance Man'.
The book concludes with an excursion on the way in which Dylan paved the way for other rock and pop artists to record in Nashville, previously associated exclusively with country music. This was an interesting slice of music history and provided some useful pointers to further reading (and listening).
Conclusion: A slim volume with some intriguing nuggets of information, but for Dylan completists only.
The book concludes with an excursion on the way in which Dylan paved the way for other rock and pop artists to record in Nashville, previously associated exclusively with country music. This was an interesting slice of music history and provided some useful pointers to further reading (and listening).
Conclusion: A slim volume with some intriguing nuggets of information, but for Dylan completists only.
March 25, 2021
Lots of Trees, Not Much Forrest
My favourite album gets the full forensic treatment in this impossibly comprehensive account by Daryl Sanders. Everything you ever wanted to know about the true revolution in contemporary music (hint - NOT the Beatles, who hung on his every word) that is this record is here for eternity.
It is full of non-surprises. He wrote most of the songs in the studio. He kept everyone waiting. He did not overdub. None of the George Martin tricks. He overturned song lengths (side 4), album lengths (double), song content (self revealing) and of course, Nashville as a recording centre. But there is so much detail here - I learned a lot of new stuff too.
Though he indulges in hyperbole about the performances at times, and in gratuitous detail, there is not much meta analysis about what changed. The ending starts going into it, but this is clearly not the strongpoint. Yes, it made poetry possible for song writers. Yes, it made self expression central. Yes, it married folk, rock, country and blues - a uniquely American sound that he struggled to capture again.
So this is a very good but not perfect account of the best album of the 1960's and probably, the best to date, of the most influential artist of all time.
My favourite album gets the full forensic treatment in this impossibly comprehensive account by Daryl Sanders. Everything you ever wanted to know about the true revolution in contemporary music (hint - NOT the Beatles, who hung on his every word) that is this record is here for eternity.
It is full of non-surprises. He wrote most of the songs in the studio. He kept everyone waiting. He did not overdub. None of the George Martin tricks. He overturned song lengths (side 4), album lengths (double), song content (self revealing) and of course, Nashville as a recording centre. But there is so much detail here - I learned a lot of new stuff too.
Though he indulges in hyperbole about the performances at times, and in gratuitous detail, there is not much meta analysis about what changed. The ending starts going into it, but this is clearly not the strongpoint. Yes, it made poetry possible for song writers. Yes, it made self expression central. Yes, it married folk, rock, country and blues - a uniquely American sound that he struggled to capture again.
So this is a very good but not perfect account of the best album of the 1960's and probably, the best to date, of the most influential artist of all time.
October 15, 2021
For fans of one of Dylan's greatest albums, recorded primarily in Nashville with great session musicians you will come to know and respect, and whose artistry perfectly complemented the mental and emotional whirl of ideas that was then circulating round Dylan's mind and finding their way into his lyrics.
Those of you who care for Dylan, this album, or about any book about the making of a great record, will find much to like hear. Musicians in particular will swoon over the details of how Bob Johnston put together one of the finest backing bands Dylan ever had. They played ping-pong while Dylan wrote lyrics late into the night; then, they recorded. The rest, for fans of "Blonde on Blonde," will offer insights into the workings of what was then one of the great meccas for music of all time.
Plus, there's a priceless story of engineer's assistant/gofer Billy Swan (who later had a hit with "I Can Help") quitting his job, walking out of the studio and running into someone looking for a job. That someone--Kris Kristofferson. Too many other details to single out. Listening to the record while reading the book was a joy.
Those of you who care for Dylan, this album, or about any book about the making of a great record, will find much to like hear. Musicians in particular will swoon over the details of how Bob Johnston put together one of the finest backing bands Dylan ever had. They played ping-pong while Dylan wrote lyrics late into the night; then, they recorded. The rest, for fans of "Blonde on Blonde," will offer insights into the workings of what was then one of the great meccas for music of all time.
Plus, there's a priceless story of engineer's assistant/gofer Billy Swan (who later had a hit with "I Can Help") quitting his job, walking out of the studio and running into someone looking for a job. That someone--Kris Kristofferson. Too many other details to single out. Listening to the record while reading the book was a joy.
July 28, 2024
Thoroughly enjoyable rundown of the making of Dylan's "Blonde on Blonde." You won't find the kind of rock critic prose of writers like Greil Marcus, whose book on "Like a Rolling Stone" is probably my favorite Dylan book. Sanders' work is a bit more pragmatic than that. This means that, other than attempting to identify some of the various women the songs might be about, the book shies away from too much interpretation of what may be Dylan's most cryptic album. Sanders assembles a great cast of characters around Dylan -- producers, the Nashville Cats who played on the songs, other musicians (Al Kooper and Robbie Robertson, particularly), rock writers, and some others. And in that respect, there's a good mixture of earlier commentary that Sanders cites and his own interviews. Dylan's voice is notably missing, other than transcripts of studio chatter and a few other tidbits here and tehre. But having Dylan as the mysterious, blurry, out-of-focus (as on the cover of the album) hole/whole in the middle of the record feels perfectly appropriate. And as usual, Robyn Hitchcock steps up with some wonderful commentary and is even given the closing comments on the legacy of this album.
October 23, 2018
"That Thin, Wild Mercury Sound" provides a meta-analysis of the making of Bob Dylan's "Blonde on Blonde" drawn from memoirs, interviews with the principals (some by the author), and the complete "Blonde on Blonde" session tapes, which were released approximately three years ago. Saunders contrasts the "Nashville cats" who played on the sessions -- guys who could record an album in several three-hour sessions -- with Dylan, who started late with half-formed ideas that took hours to develop as he played take after take. The thought of reading about 20+ takes of "Brand New Leopard-Skin Pill Box Hat" might seem off-putting, but Saunders makes it fairly lively by explaining how the individual songs (including lyrics, instrumentation, and tempo) evolved over the multiple takes. Saunders also makes a fairly convincing case that "Blonde on Blonde" had a huge impact on Nashville, which I was surprised to learn.
March 29, 2021
A detailed and often fascinating look at Dylan’s Nashville recording sessions for Blonde on Blonde. Sanders also explores the tours and whatnot around that time. It’s a decent read, sometimes a bit repetitive (as if it was written in chunks, with some chapters out there on their own as articles), and it relies more on quotes than on Sanders’ own take on the music. Which is understandable, given the very well-tracked path this book traces.
I enjoyed learning a bit about the lives of the Nashville session players, like Charlie McCoy, who were so integral to the album, and how their industry evolved before and after BOB. What I found most useful about this book, though, is its more detailed exploration of the oft-repeated anecdotes you hear about Bob writing Sad-Eyed Lady in the middle of the night while session players, all of them used to recording a couple entire albums per day, with lunch breaks, tried to stay awake.
I enjoyed learning a bit about the lives of the Nashville session players, like Charlie McCoy, who were so integral to the album, and how their industry evolved before and after BOB. What I found most useful about this book, though, is its more detailed exploration of the oft-repeated anecdotes you hear about Bob writing Sad-Eyed Lady in the middle of the night while session players, all of them used to recording a couple entire albums per day, with lunch breaks, tried to stay awake.
February 23, 2021
At time it reads like a glorified book of box set liner notes and, I could do without the lyric analysis as well as the studio chatter. However I did learn some interesting information. If you are a Dylan fan you will probably want to read this. Besides it’s a quick read and you may learn something that you didn’t know before. The main takeaway I got from was how Dylan’s decision to record his classic “Blonde on Blonde”in Nashville in 1966 is what led to the city becoming a recording hub for not just country records (it already had been since the 1940s, post WW II) but a number of different rock and pop performers. So in a word Dylan helped make Nashville a little more hip. His way of recording as well was a radical departure from what the Nashville session guys had been used to up that point. Now I need to re-listen to “Blonde on Blonde”.
May 7, 2021
The book is a very detailed account of the making of one of Bob Dylan’s (many) masterpieces, Blonde in Blonde. Perhaps I’ve read too many Dylan books already, but I found it to be slow going — it’s like a really really really long MOJO article. I kept setting it aside to read something else. But I did finish it :) and recognize that taken by itself, it’s a valuable book.
A few years ago, the complete BoB recording sessions were released as part of the Bootleg Series; much of the book is an annotated transcription of them, describing each take, quoting from the session-talk, providing contextual minutiae. The author researched and spoke recently to many of contributors to provide a fifty-year perspective and provides much information about the Nashville studio system. He makes a good but overstated case for how these sessions and the resulting album made Nashville what it is now.
A few years ago, the complete BoB recording sessions were released as part of the Bootleg Series; much of the book is an annotated transcription of them, describing each take, quoting from the session-talk, providing contextual minutiae. The author researched and spoke recently to many of contributors to provide a fifty-year perspective and provides much information about the Nashville studio system. He makes a good but overstated case for how these sessions and the resulting album made Nashville what it is now.
July 31, 2021
Dylan's double album recording of Blonde on Blonde broke the mold, set the trend(s), and fired imaginations & amazing music in other artists--from 1966 till now. Loved the first-hand & in-the-studio perspective that Sanders' book gives on the whole recording process of this classic recording. Dylan decided to try out recording with a bunch of "Nashville cats" and did not conform to the normal Nashville recording process. The professional, high-caliber studio musicians he called on were in for a surprise, sometimes feeling like "What the...??" and also were getting paid top wages to sit around & shoot the bull & pool & eat & drink, while Dylan was holed up in the studio writing the songs that would break open what it meant to be a singer songwriter.
July 6, 2019
Fascinating book if you are a Bob Dylan fan. The author describes in detail the making of arguably the best Bob Dylan album, Blonde on Blonde. It was made in 1966 with a bunch of young and very talented Nashville "cats". It was the first main stream rock album recorded in Nashville and it was the first rock double album ever done. I really enjoyed reading about the writing and recording of each track and then listening to that track. I could hear a lot of subtleties and understood their origin. Blonde on Blonde has always been a favourite of mine and now I have such a greater appreciation of the album.
September 13, 2019
A very detailed account of the making of the record, the musicians of Nashville and the effect on the city. The hero is Bob's producer at the time, Bob Johnston. His idea to move from NYC to Nashville and involve the studio musicians of Nashville. Guys like Wayne Moss, Charlie McCoy, Joe South, Kenny Buttrey - throw in Al Kooper and Robbie Robertson and a few others and you have the ingredients for a great record. That these seasoned pro's would sit around for 5-6 hours a day while Bob redid lyrics is amazing (they NEVER did this). Now let's get out the Cutting Edge boxset and re-listen to all of those outtakes from the sessions.
June 20, 2020
Really interesting insight into how, and why, Bob Dylan made one of his most iconic, revered early albums in Nashville rather than the New York studios he used up to that point. For those who closely follow Dylan, and those obsessed with music details, it's like a reunion, with members of the The Band (before they were The Band) and a whole host of legendary Nashville session musicians. Sanders writing is solid, though reads a little at times like a fan tribute. But the insight and the description of how these recording sessions changed Dylan and Nashville is worth the read, particularly for anyone into all things Dylan.
March 16, 2021
A well researched documentary of the making of Dylan’s seminal “Blonde on Blonde” album and the spotlight that it placed on Nashville as a key city for the music business.
Sanders clearly takes the recording narrative from the studio tapes of the time to paint the picture of how each song on the album was recorded. It’s also very good on the Nashville session musicians who were recruited to play, such as Charlie McCoy, Kenneth Buttrey and Joe South. Only the Band’s Robbie Robertson, and Al Kooper make it South from Dylan’s preceding recording and live adventures.
There’s nothing not to like if you love Dylan.
Sanders clearly takes the recording narrative from the studio tapes of the time to paint the picture of how each song on the album was recorded. It’s also very good on the Nashville session musicians who were recruited to play, such as Charlie McCoy, Kenneth Buttrey and Joe South. Only the Band’s Robbie Robertson, and Al Kooper make it South from Dylan’s preceding recording and live adventures.
There’s nothing not to like if you love Dylan.
December 21, 2024
The more Dylan obsessive I become, the less chance there is I actually learn anything new about the greatest American lyricist to ever live. Here, at least, I discovered he first met the Band at the El Mocambo in Toronto. So that's a fun little piece of ephemera to add to my Dylan database.
Otherwise it's a fun look at a very specific part of his already exhaustively covered 60s period. Good prep for A Complete Unknown, which will likely just be a pleasant enough, Walk Hard-but-sincere retelling of those years.
Otherwise it's a fun look at a very specific part of his already exhaustively covered 60s period. Good prep for A Complete Unknown, which will likely just be a pleasant enough, Walk Hard-but-sincere retelling of those years.
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