Don’t Have the Blues: Asaf Avidan and the Mojos

Asaf Avidan is, he is keen to point out, a singer from Israel and not necessarily an Israeli singer. What that means, for him, is that by a twist of fate, he was born into a Jewish family in Israel.  That fact does not require that he as an artist speak to, or about, or for, or against anything happening in political world of the Middle East. Indeed, it appears that only aspect of being Israeli that bugs Asafis that interviewers always ask him the same tedious question about whether he feels he must speak out about the actions of his country, in his music.

 

Here’s his response to one such question: I think it’s a bit unfair, considering that citizens from the U.S.A or U.K or Europe, sometimes have just as much political explanation to give, in regards to their governments actions… But I take it as it is. It won’t help to bitch about it. “Israel” inspires a certain chain of thoughts in people, who cannot make the same separation they bestow upon other nationalities… I try to explain the complexity of the situation or to give my opinion about it… but that’s all it really is… one’s subjective opinion about a tapestry of conflicting dogmas and beliefs. I think an artist should be honest with himself… that’s all an artist’s role is to me. If he feels he needs to depict the outside world or his inner conflicts, social war, or personal love… that’s up to him really.

Asaf Avidan

When you first hear Asaf sing (he was the lead singer and guitarist of his band, the Mojos) your reaction is ‘wow, she’s got a unique voice.’  So feminine is it that one is knocked slightly off kilter. Is this a put on? It’s not a falsetto and yet it is beautiful. It is not Tiny Tim kitsch and yet it is very delicate and not at all what you’d associate with a mojo. Asafis a million miles away from Muddy Waters, the man more than any other who introduced that weird word into our vocabulary.

 

And neither is this blues.  Rather it is a sort of folk music stripped of emotional excess and preciousness, delivered with a look you in the eye simplicity.  Don’t get the idea that this is Asaf strumming his acoustic guitar. No. There are layers of instrumentation in this music that evoke gypsy bands and country bars. There are Dylan and Cohenesque lyrics that are not derivative, and even some good rocking tonight.  And always there is that voice… that voice.  Somewhere between a keen and a wail, haunting and reassuring.

 

This is a treat.  Listen to it often to get to the marrow.

Track Listing:

01 Brickman

02 Poor Boy/Lucky Man

03 Got It Right

04 My Favorite Clown

05 Small Change Girl

06 The Ghost Of a Thousand Little Lies

07 Wasting My Time

08 Jet Plane

09 Little Stallion

10 Your Anchor

11 Losing Hand

12 Painting On The Past

13 Out In The Cold

14 My Latest Sin

++++++++

On Fire: Mahavishnu Orchestra

 

John McLaughlin

For a brief sizzling moment in time, as the 60s stumbled into the 70s, the Mahavishnu Orchestra was the benchmark of rock n’ roll.  The world’s best, most exciting, most risky, most ‘spiritual’ and most together band of musicians that ever set foot on stage. Jazz Times in its March 2014 issue dedicated a wonderful article to that group’s first album, The Inner Mounting Flame, a little of which I exerpt here.

The first Mahavishnu Orchestra was born and died in New York City. Two and a half years separated those events. In between, they released three records, played somewhere in the region of 500 concerts and managed to astound the world, or that part thereof which took notice of modern music. And, in the early ’70s, that was a lot of the world. There were still vast, uncharted realms of sound for music to inhabit, still record-making corporations willing to fund the voyages of exploration and still hordes of listeners eager to make new discoveries. Popular music informed the culture, it was muscular and virile, and the feeling was abroad that perhaps still it could change the world. Mahavishnu John McLaughlin had not a shred of doubt about that.

Changing the consciousness of the world was, for John, the whole point of the thing. For the other guys, whatever turned John on was fine: They were simply ecstatic to be playing in what felt like the greatest band on the planet. The band, like the city, was a melting pot of nationalities and cultures: John McLaughlin from England; Billy Cobham from Panama; Rick Laird from Ireland via New Zealand, Australia and London; Jan Hammer from Czechoslovakia, as it was then, via Germany; and Jerry Goodman from Chicago. Many roads had led each of the five to New York where the first Mahavishnu Orchestra came together in the summer of 1971.

The Mahavishnu Orchestra’s debut album, The Inner Mounting Flame, with John pictured in lotus position among his cohorts on the cover and a poem on aspiration by Sri Chinmoy within, was recorded on August 14 1971. Released before the year’s end, it sold 20,000 units in its first three weeks.

The music was astounding. While some of the elements and ideas within it may be glimpsed, in retrospect, scattered here and there across Devotion, My Goal’s Beyond, the recordings with Miles Davis, Lifetime and Carla Bley, and even back to Extrapolation, those were but doodles on paper compared to this fully formed masterpiece.  It was a music that was wholly new and which could not have been predicted.

John’s compositional maturity had finally arrived. As fabulous as Extrapolation was, this was a level beyond.  There was an indestructible immortal aura around several of the album’s pieces. A lesser item like Vital Transformation—its title reflecting Sri Chinmoy’s preoccupation with the lower and higher vitals of the soul—grabbed the listener by the throat with its superficially Hendrix-esque riffing and sound, but even here the lascivious blues-rock overcoat gave way to a clean ascending movement.

Sri Chinmoy

 

It was in the contemplative pieces, Dawn, You Know, You Know, A Lotus on Irish Streams—where space, restraint and the wisdom to use it were the key—that the caterpillar truly emerged as a many-coloured creature in winged flight.  The yin to their yang were the unholy behemoths, Meeting of the Spirits and Dance of Maya. Those two introduced the world to a device that might as well be known as ‘Mahavishnu arpeggios’—weird, unresolving, cyclical guitar patterns that formed the basis of many of John’s compositions of the Mahavishnu era. It was high art for the masses. And the masses came.

“I notice some difference in the music I played before I became a disciple and the music I play now,” John mused, early in 1972.  “When I play now, I think of Sri Chinmoy. I think of him as my higher self, and me as his lower self. I think of my music now as an offering to God…the master musician, the soul of music, the spirit of music. I’m just trying to reach him by letting myself be his instrument. That’s what I’m striving to become.”

Perception is half the history; truth is the rest.  To the record-buying, concert-going public of the early 70s, the substantial coverage given to John McLaughlin as the face of the Mahavishu Orchestra, and his serene demeanor onstage, asking for moments of silence before every show and presenting the performance as an opportunity for all assembled to reach their highest heights and deepest depths, fuelled a general fascination with the man.  His extraordinary virtuosity, and his band’s extraordinary music, spoke for itself, but his commanding, slightly otherworldly personality and spiritual commitment behind it all not only added weight and portent to the music, but conversely, suggested that such singular accomplishments were achieveable by all and sundry through the path being espoused.  Mahavishnu John McLaughlin was not a man on a table-tapping weekend in Bognor Regis. He was deadly serious.

Music was more than a pastime of an income or even a vocation to John McLaughlin.  It was a mission from God.  Among Sri Chinmoy’s many aphorisms was one that explains John’s extreme devotion to the cause of spreading his music as a gateway to God for the masses: If you say that a musician is not God, I may agree with you. But if you say music is not God, then I totally disagree with you. [Jazz Times (Vol 4. Number 2) March 2014]

 

This is indeed amazing, confronting and deeply moving music.

Track Listing:

01 Meeting of the Spirits

02 Dawn

03 Noonward Race

04 A Lotus On Irish Streams

05 Vital Transformation

06 The Dance of Maya

07 You Know, You Know

08 Awakening

***

 

 

2 Motherless Children: More Interpretations of the Great Negro Spiritual

The response to the recent post on the Negro Spiritual Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child, has been unexpectedly strong and positive. Readers have contacted WD saying how much the spiritual has meant to them. For some it is their ‘favorite song’. Others said they listened to the song whenever they moved into a new apartment or house.  Several people pointed The Washerman’s Dog to other brilliant renditions of the hymn, for which we are very grateful.

And so as to be selfish WD has put together a second volume of interpretations of this truly inspirational song.

Track Listing:

01 Motherless Child_It’s Up To You [Sara Tidwell]

02 Motherless Children [John Renbourn]

03 Motherless Children [Forgotten but Not Gone]

04 Motherless Children Have A Hard Time [Robert Pete Williams]

05 Motherless Children [Blueswire]

06 Motherless Child [Rev. Clay Evans with the Operation Breadbasket Orchestra & Choir]

07 Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child [Lee Wiley]

08 Motherless Children [Ralph Stanley]

09 Motherless Children [The Slide Brothers]

10 Motherless Children [Steve Miller Band]

11 Motherless Child [Jeannie Lewis]

12 Motherless Children [Sweetwater]

13 Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child [Carmela Coren]

14 Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child [Fluery]

15 Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child [Archie Shepp]

★✪ñ

Bad Ass Liberator: The Enduring Legacy of Staggerlee

Stagger Lee

The first I ever heard the name Staggerlee was on a ‘Mississippi’ John Hurt record.  The way Hurt sang, so softly, so melodiously, belied the tragedy of the tale. It was only the repeated references to the ‘bad man Staggerlee’ that gave any idea that this was a dark story of cruel murder.

I am currently making my way through the excellent book Stagolee Shot Billy in which Cecil Brown explores both the history of the protagonist of one of America’s most resilient ballads as well as its evolution as a piece of folk music that has found a home in styles from jazz to hillbilly and the blues.  Brown also explores the song as a way to understand African-American masculinity and a way to resist an oppressive and brutal political system. Absolutely fascinating!

I’ll quote a bit from the book for tonight’s post.

In walked Stagger Lee

The origins of the Stagolee legend coincide with the origins of the blues in the 1890s. The legend had its first expression as a field holler of former plantation slaves as they migrated to the levee camps along the Mississippi. From there the legend moved to southern prisons, where it was honed and shaped into a work song. Stagolee also expressed the worldview and feelings of poor white hillbillies, who adopted the legend as one of their own.

 

The legend survives because black men pass it on. As culture critic Greil Marcus observes, Stagolee “is a story that black America has never tired of hearing and never stopped living out, like whites with their Westerns.”

 

Stagolee has taken musical shape as ballad, as blues, as jazz, as epic, as folk song, and as rap. There are at least twenty jazz recordings, by musicians ranging from Cab Calloway, Jimmy Dorsey, and Peggy Lee to Duke Ellington. More than a hundred bluesmen, from Champion Jack Dupree and Sonny Terry to Mississippi John Hurt, have recorded it. During the 1930s and 1940s John Lomax and his son Alan collected it from prisoners across the South, in the form of a strictly folk protest music; at least a dozen recordings survive in the Library of Congress. And it has thrived as a soul tune rendered by James Brown, Neil Diamond, Fats Domino, and Wilson Pickett. Performers of Stagolee have ranged from levee workers to white female “coon-shouters,” from whorehouse pianists to black female blues shouters, from hundreds of “unidentified Negro convicts” to famous contemporary musicians such as Huey Lewis and the News, Bob Dylan, and the Grateful Dead, and from 1920s Hawaiian guitarists to 1970s English groups like the Clash.

 

There was indeed a real Stagolee, a well-known figure in St.Louis’s red-light district during the 1890s, a pimp who, when he shot and killed William Lyons, was the president of a “Colored Four Hundred Club,” a political and social organization. In December 9, 1937, Tyrrell Williams, a law professor at Washington University, wrote an article in the St. Louis Post Dispatch,  claiming that the Stagolee ballad was based on “the killing by a Negro bully named Stacker Lee (or Stack O’ Lee) of another Negro named Lyon, because Lyon accidentally spit in the Stetson owned by Lee. ”He claimed that his information had come from William Marion Reedy, a journalist and critic who was active during the 1890s. Reedy had told Williams “that Lee was an actual character and that the lawyer who defended him was Nathaniel Dryden.” A sketchy narrative of Lee Shelton’s life is also available from newspaper articles and other public records.

 

Jim ‘Slaughter’ Brown

In the blues, Stack changed names, but little else. He was the Crawling Kingsnake; Tommy Johnson pouring Sterno down his throat, singing “Canned heat, canned heat is killing me”; Muddy Waters’s cool and elemental Rollin’ Stone; Chuck Berry’s Brown-Eyed Handsome Man; Bo Diddley with a tombstone hand and a graveyard mind; Wilson Pickett’s Midnight Mover; Mick Jagger’s Midnight Rambler . . . When the civil rights movement got tough, [Staggerlee] took over. And Staggerlee would come roaring back to the screen in the ’70s, as Slaughter, Sweet Sweetback, Superfly

 

The basic story is that in St Louis, on Christmas Day 1895, a nattily dressed pimp but also local political activist and businessman by the name of Stack Lee entered a bar where he met a friend named Billy Lyons.  As the two chatted Lyons somehow grabbed Lee’s beautiful and prized Stetson hat.

Police officer, how can it be?

You can ‘rest everybody but cruel Stack O’ Lee

That bad man, oh, cruel Stack O’ Lee

Billy de Lyon told Stack O’ Lee, “Please don’t take my life,

I got two little babies, and a darlin’ lovin’ wife”

That bad man, oh, cruel Stack O’ Lee

“What I care about you little babies, your darlin’ lovin’ wife?

You done stole my Stetson1 hat, I’m bound to take your life”

 

That bad man, cruel Stack O’ Lee

…with the forty-four

When I spied Billy de Lyon, he was lyin’ down on the floor

That bad man, oh cruel Stack O’ Lee

“Gentleman’s of the jury, what do you think of that?

Stack O’ Lee killed Billy de Lyon about a five-dollar Stetson hat”

That bad man, oh, cruel Stack O’ Lee

And all they gathered, hands way up high,

at twelve o’clock they killed him, they’s all glad to see him die

That bad man, oh, cruel Stack O’ Lee

The basic tale has been told a thousand times with as many variations in the lyrics and details but always it is Lee who kills Lyon and usually over a Stetson hat.  The above lyrics are the version preferred by ‘Mississippi’John Hurt.  But as Cecil Brown points out, while the white world has come to see Staggerlee as a ‘very bad man’ and a person of little moral value, to black audiences he was a far more complex character.  A man who stood up for his rights. A man of wealth and standing who was provoked to take the fatal step of murder. A man who experienced the cruelty of the white man’s prison system. A liberator of sorts who as a pimp, or mack (as pimps were known in St Louis), held economic power over white men and women.

To celebrate this great story and an incredibly rich character of American popular music Washerman’s Dog has compiled a collection of Stagolee inspired songs.  Several versions of the ballad are interspersed with songs from contemporary blues bands, 70’s-era Blaxploitation film and icons of the blues who tell similar stories about the good-bad nigger who is a lover, cool, shady, rich and volatile.  The ultimate anti-hero and danger man.

Boom boom!

 

Track Listing:

1. Stagolee [Mississippi John Hurt]
2. Backdoor Man [T-Model Ford]
3. Stackalee [Frank Hutchison]
4. King Slaughter [James Brown]
5. Stack a Lee [Bob Dylan]
6. Superfly [Curtis Mayfield]
7. Am I Black Enough for You? [Billy Paul]
8. Son of Shaft [Bar-Kays]
9. Mister Magic [Grover Washington Jr.]
10. Sweet Sweetback’s Theme [Earth Wind and Fire]
11. Stagger Lee [Taj Mahal]
12. Theme from Savage [Don Julian]
13. Mack the Knife [Louis Armstrong]
14. Brother Rap [James Brown]
15. Bad Man [T-Model Ford]
16. Stack Shot Billy [The Black Keys]
17. Clean up Man [Eddie Finley]
18. Mannish Boy [Muddy Waters]
19. Tail Dragger [Howlin’ Wolf]
20. Stack-o-lee [Champion Jack Dupree]
21. The Cisco Kid [WAR]
22. I’m a Midnight Mover [Bobby Womack]
23. He’s a Misstra Know it All [Stevie Wonder]
24. A Pimp [The Watts Prophets]
25. Super Bad [Idris Muhammad]
26. Crawling Kingsnake [Honeyboy Edwards]
27. Brown Eye Handsome Man [Nina Simone]
28. I’m the Wolf [Howlin’ Wolf]
29. Boom Boom [John Lee Hooker]

!!+(

Rare North Star music: Minnesoda

 

There is an unspoken Golden Rule in Australia.  When you detect a North American accent you say something like this: “Do I detect a Northern accent? Canada, right?”  Or this: “Let’s see, you’re from Canada right?” Or even: “I love the skiing in Canada.”

 

Everyone is trying to be nice.  No one wants to make the perceived faux pas of pegging someone American, given the low stock that tag trades in overseas. So even though they’re sure you’re from the States, they inevitably drag out the Canadian reference.

 

Once upon a time I liked that practice. Now I find it funny. Whenever someone asks me about my origins (in itself not an easy question to answer) I loudly proclaim that I’m an American from Minnesota. That then leads to ‘where is that exactly?’

 

“Where Bob Dylan and Prince come from,” I say.

 

“Ah. Cool.” End of conversation.

 

City Pages, the once-alternative newspaper of the Twin Cities, last year compiled a list of Minnesota’s Top 20 Musical Acts of All Time. Besides being shocked that Prince outranked Dylan (I mean c’mon. Raspberry Beret is better than Blowin’ in the Wind?), I was taken aback by how many acts I had never heard of.  And where was Leo Kottke?

 

Well, in the spirit of celebrating the music of the North Star State, let me share with you a rare record I came across on a strange thing called the internet several years ago.  The band and album share the corny name Minnesoda, which apparently was the idea of some ‘smart guy in a suit’ at the record company. And the music they played was once known as ‘white boy funk’, not too dissimilar to the Blood Sweat and Tears and Chicago (before they became so wet with Top 40 intentions).  Minnesoda’s music is rawer and probably closer in feel to what could be heard in any West Bank bar on a Saturday night.

 

A quartet of brassmen on tenor sax, flute, trumpet, and trombone augment the usual rock lineup in this octet, fronted by John Elms‘ credibly high-octane, lusty upper-register blue-eyed soul vocals. There’s sometimes an almost big band-like dexterity to the horns, yet the more jagged, at times hyper, thrust of the guitars and drums give it a solid funk base. The melodies are often more ominous than they usually are in this kind of fare, frequently jetting off into unexpected, improvised-sounding horn interjections and key changes. Only the adventure film theme-like “Flexible Flyer,” and the uncharacteristically reflective, jazzy ballad “Party” slow the tempo down much. Minnesoda might belatedly attract the interest of some collectors owing to the presence of the trumpeter Ed Shaw. That’s the same Ed Shaw who played bass in the Monks, the 1960s band of ex-GIs who played in monks’ costumes and did an album of weird proto-punk in Germany that attracted a devoted cult following decades later. (AMG)

This is a blast from the past as well as a bit of a shot in the dark, because where are these guys now? In an old folks home in Anoka? Sunning by the pool in Acapulco? Helping the homeless in Detroit?

 

Wherever they are, they never registered anywhere near the City Pages, list of great Minnesotan musicians. More’s the pity.

Track Lisitng:

01 Let`s Get It On

02 Smokin’ Bitch

03 Misery Isn`t Free

04 Shop Talk

05 When’s My Season

06 Flex

07 Child’s Play

08 Partly

09 Maggie

*^*

Glue Man: Chuck E. Weiss

Chuck E Weiss

Remember that song, Chuck E’s in Love, by Rickie Lee Jones?  Well, there was a real Chuck and today we spotlight one of his records, Old Souls and Wolf Tickets.

 

Chuck E. Weiss, the ultimate scene-maker has spent a career hobnobbing with the cool and famous in rock’s hierarchy while barely pursuing a career of his own. Born in Denver, Weiss was originally a drummer, touring with bluesman Lightnin’ Hopkins. By the late ’60s, Weiss had performed and/or recorded with Willie Dixon, Muddy Waters, Dr. John, Roger Miller, and others. While still living in Denver, he struck up a friendship with singer/songwriter Tom Waits, later writing songs like “Spare Parts” with him and moving to Los Angeles. Living at West Hollywood’s infamous Tropicana Motel with Waits and singer Rickie Lee Jones, Weiss became the subject of Jones’ hit “Chuck E.’s in Love.” Weiss’ career finally stumbled off the launching pad with the 1981 release of The Other Side of Town, a collection of demo tapes released on Select Records. Rather than follow this up with a proper release, Weiss instead put together a band called the G-d Damn Liars and spent the next 11 years performing a weekly gig at the L.A. nightclub the Central and later partnered with friend Johnny Depp to convert the club into the Viper Room. (AMG)

 

Tom Waits, Chuck, Rickie Lee

I bought this CD many moons ago in the basement of a big book store in Washington D.C.   I liked the title and the cover picture of what looked Chuck having a tete-a-tete with Taj Mahal.  The music inside is a gritty slice of American styles with heavy blues undertones. An New Orleans blues chant opens proceeding (Congo Square at Midnight), which then shift quickly up a gear or two with a shuffling boogie (Tony Did the Boogie Woogie) replete with Hammond B3 and some excellent galumpy guitar picking. Other highlights are a paean to cool wheels (Two Tone Car) and probably Chuck’s most ‘famous’ song, G-d Damn Liars.

All in all this is a very enjoyable album from one of those glue-men of American music: he’s the guy who knows everyone, and glues the careers of so many larger stars together.

 

Track Listing:

01 Congo Square at Midnight

02 Tony Did the Boogie Woogie

03 It Didn’t Happen Overnight

04 Sweetie-O

05 Piggly Wiggly

06 Two-Tone Car (an auto-body experience)

07 Anthem for Old Souls

08 Sneaky Jesus

09 Down the Road a Piece

10 No Hep Cats

11 Jolie’s Nightmare (Mr. House Dick)

12 Blood Alley

13 G-d Damn Liars

14 Dixieland Funeral

 

here

 

 

72 Candles on the Cake: Bob Dylan

Bob

Today Bob Dylan is 72.  He’s been making music for most of them.  To celebrate, here’s 72 good songs from a man whose always got a million more up his sleeve.

 

This also goes out to a dear dear friend who is about to embark on a long flight to the UK and will need some solace along the way.

 

Happy Chocolate Cake, Bobby!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Volume 1

01 Spanish Harlem Incident [Another Side]

02 Nothing Was Delivered [Basement Tapes]

03 Apple Suckling Tree [Basement Tapes]

04 This Wheel’s On Fire [Basement Tapes]

05 Chimes of Freedom [Another Side]

06 I’ll Keep It With Mine [Biograph]

07 One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later) [Blonde on Blonde]

08 Just Like a Woman [Blonde on Blonde]

09 Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts [Blood on the Tracks]

10 If You See Her, Say Hello [Blood on the Tracks]

11 See that my Grave is Kept Clean [Bob Dylan]

12 House of the Risin’ Sun [Bob Dylan]

13 It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue (Live) [Bootleg Series Nr. 4 Live 1966 “The Royal Albert Hall Concert”]

14 Oh Sister [Bootleg Series Nr. 5 Rolling Thunder Revue 1975]

15 Water is Wide [Bootleg Series Nr. 5 Rolling Thunder Revue 1975]

16 Mississippi – Unreleased Version 2, Time Out Of Mind [The Bootleg Series Nr. 8 Tell Tale Signs – Rare and Unreleased 1989 – 2006]

17 The Lonesome River (With Ralph Stanley) [The Bootleg Series Nr. 8 Tell Tale Signs – Rare and Unreleased 1989 – 2006]

18 No More Auction Block [The Bootleg Series Vols. 1-3  Rare And Unreleased, 1961-1991]

19 Talkin’ John Birch Paranoid Blues [The Bootleg Series, Vols. 1-3  Rare And Unreleased, 1961-1991]

20 Series Of Dreams[The Bootleg Series Vols. 1-3  Rare And Unreleased, 1961-1991]

21 Angelina [The Bootleg Series Vols. 1-3  Rare And Unreleased, 1961-1991]

22 Conversation (1) [Folksinger’s Choice]

23 Fixin’ To Die [Bob Dylan]

here

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vol. 2

24 Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right [Freewheelin’]

25 Talkin’ Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues [The Bootleg Series, Vols. 1-3  Rare And Unreleased, 1961-1991

26 It’s Alright Ma, (I’m Only Bleeding) [Bringing It All Back Home]

27 Black Diamond Bay [Desire]

28 Athur McBride [Good As I Been to You]

29 Frankie & Albert [Good As I Been to You]

30 Ballad of a Thin Man [Highway 61 Revisited]

31 Desolation Row [Highway 61 Revisited]

32 Jokerman [Infidels]

33 Drifter’s Escape [John Wesley Harding]

34 I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine [John Wesley Harding]

35 Boots Of Spanish Leather [Live at Carnegie Hall 1963]

36 Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum [Love and Theft]

37 Bye and Bye [Love and Theft]

38 Things Have Changed [Lovesick]

39 Dixie [Masked and Anonymous]

40 Rollin’ and Tumblin’ [Modern Times]

41 Shooting Star [MTV Unplugged]

42 The Levee’s Gonna Break [Modern Times]

43 Dignity [MTV Unplugged]

44 Country Pie [Nashville Skyline]

45 One More Night [Nashville Skyline]

46 Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again (Alternate Take) [No Direction Home The Soundtrack {The Bootleg Series Vol. 7)]

here

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vol. 3

47 Highway 61 Revisited (Alternate Take) [No Direction Home The Soundtrack (The Bootleg Series, Vol. 7)]

48 Mr. Tambourine Man (Alternate-Version 1st Complete-Take) [No Direction Home The Soundtrack (The Bootleg Series, Vol. 7)]

49 Man in the Long Black Coat [Oh Mercy]

50 Political World [Oh Mercy]

51 Tangled Up In Blue [Real Live]

52 Saved [Saved]

53 Pressing On [Saved]

54 Heart Of Mine [Shot of Love]

55 Lenny Bruce [Shot of Love]

56 Precious Angel [Slow Train]

57 Slow Train [Slow Train Coming]

58 Duquesne Whistle [Tempest]

59 Early Roman Kings [Tempest]

60 Dirt Road Blues [Time Out of Mind]

61 The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll [The Times They Are A-Changin’]

62 Only a Pawn in Their Game [The Times They Are A-Changin’]

63 Jolene [Together Through Life]

64 Life is Hard [Together Through Life]

65 Lay, Lady, Lay [A Very Special Engagement Live at the House of Blues 2-23-2008]

66 Blood In My Eyes [World Gone Wrong]

67 Lone Pilgrim [World Gone Wrong]

68 (Ghost) Riders In The Sky (With George Harrison) [New Morning Session -1 May 1970]

69 Crazy Love (With Van Morrison) [Hardest to find Lost Diamonds]

70 I Still Miss Someone (with Johnny Cash) [The Nashville Sessions]

71 Ring Of Fire (with Johnny Cash) [The Nashville Sessions]

72 Tupelo Honey Why Must I Always Explain (With Van Morrison) [Duets]

here