“Both Ends of the Rainbow: Bob Dylan 1978 – 1989” on DVD

I wonder if I’m fascinated by 1980s’ Bob Dylan solely because that’s when I got into his music (first purchased album: Infidels, around age 16) or if I’d be just as fascinated with that period had I gotten into Dylan in the 1990s or later. I suppose I can understand why people who got into Bob during the 1960s and 1970s might think there’s too much directionless meandering in Dylan’s 1980s’ work, and not think it worthy of a great deal of consideration. However, whether due to personal blinkers or laser-sharp perception, I will say this: I disagree. 1980s’ Dylan is da bomb! From his incredible and courageous gospel material in the early part of the decade, to the intensely lucid and densely-written Infidels, the dated-but-irresistable pop flirtations of Empire Burlesque, and even the weird and at times absurd hodge-podges that are Knocked Out Loaded and Down In The Groove, I just can’t get enough of the stuff. His 1989 album Oh Mercy needs no defence from the likes of me, as it was one of those that was hailed as “best since Blood on the Tracks” by the usual critics.

And so the recently-released DVD called Bob Dylan: 1978-1989 – Both Ends of the Rainbow seems tailor-made for someone of my ilk.

Unlike some recent Dylan-centered films released on DVD, this one does feature actual Bob Dylan music, including some video clips and audio (e.g. a little bit of Dylan on “Saturday Night Live” in 1979). And some of the audio clips which don’t have original video are put to strikingly well-chosen visuals, I must say. But to me the real meat of the project resides in the interviews with various musicians and recording professionals who worked in the studio with Bob Dylan during the years covered. It is the anecdotes and insights of these people, who were actually there, which give the viewer something new. And, to a person, if I recall correctly, all of these individuals offer reminiscences which are warm and positive — nary a meanspirited jibe in the lot. For example, Chuck Plotkin and Toby Scott (producer and engineer respectively on Shot of Love) share their memories of how that unique and great-sounding album came to be (including Plotkin’s recollection of being literally trapped on his knees beside Dylan at the piano, holding a microphone near Bob’s mouth to try and capture an impromptu performance of Every Grain Of Sand that Plotkin feared might be the only one he’d get). Bassist Robbie Shakespeare and drummer Sly Dunbar recall playing with Dylan on Infidels, and their joking challenge with Bob as to who’d be the first to “fall out.” Engineer Josh Abbey watched Bob during those same sessions and says he was struck by how Dylan’s work in the studio was “driven by the lyrics.” Guitarist Ira Ingler recalls the recording of Brownsville Girl (from Knocked Out Loaded), and how Dylan stopped the taping because he wanted to write another verse. He took out an “impossibly small pen and an impossibly small piece of paper” and ten minutes later they ran through the song again, and everyone in the studio was left slack-jawed by the new lyrics. (We may well wonder which verse — a good guess would be the last one — but heck, all the verses are dynamite in that song.)

And so on. Guitarist Ted Perlman tells us a lot on Empire Burlesque. Malcom Burn and Mark Howard have fascinating remembrances of working on Oh Mercy.

So that’s one angle on this film, dwelling upon the positive.

The flip side, unfortunately, is a terrible rogues gallery of writers and critics (speaking as one myself, although for some reason I’m not in the film) who keep popping their heads up and bloviating in generally well-worn, dull and irritating ways. Like the proverbial stopped clock, they can’t help but be correct on some occasions, but it’s usually just a coincidence. There are perhaps about ten different critics who keep appearing and telling us how it was and what we oughta think about Bob’s work of that decade. Some of them are regurgitating clichés that they themselves are responsible for launching as far back as thirty years ago — especially when it comes to the gospel music. I was going to name names here and specify certain rubbish, but my better angel is clamping down. Readers are at least warned. I will give a positive shout-out to Scott Warmuth who appears (briefly) and makes a worthy contribution.

So, the film would be ideal if one could technologically filter out the critics and just stick with the musicians, producers and engineers and the various old footage and audio. The voice-over narration is inoffensive, as I recall. Of-course, if an editorial decision had been made to devote far more time to the interviews with the musicians and recording people, versus the critics, then the film would be better to begin with.

The DVD box is accompanied by an extra CD featuring “The Dylan Gospel Interviews”; this is about an hour’s worth of various taped question and answer sessions with Dylan during that gospel period, and it’s introduced unobstrusively enough by Derek Barker. These recordings have circulated among collectors before, and at a guess I would think that all of these interviews have been transcribed and published in various places, but it’s unquestionably a very interesting item for fans who are into that stage of Dylan’s career.

You can purchase the DVD via Amazon, and in my very next post I will provide details on my own exciting giveaway of one brand-spanking new copy to a lucky reader who might even be you!