The Basement Tapes Complete: The Bootleg Series Vol. 11

Nearly a half-century after the sometimes haphazard creation, this music retains every bit of its intimacy, mystery, and resonance, and The Basement Tapes Complete boxes it up with the respect and insight it demands.

The Basement Tapes ignored every record-producing rule while remaining true to the muse. [Dec 2014, p.109]

Beery, teary, rootsy and rollicking: it's singalong genius at play. [Dec 2014, p.122]

Take your time, shift your sonic expectations and enjoy some of the most daring, creative and truly beautiful music ever recorded.

The Basement Tapes Raw, like the original ’75 release, blends brilliant performances with pure curiosities. What’s remarkable, though, are how many beautiful, emotionally daunting moments came into being during these rather informal sessions.

The trunk of treasure he and the Band made in their short season of hiding keeps on giving.

The first sketches of songs that would later buttress both Dylan and the Band’s songbook--“Tears of Rage,” “Nothing Was Delivered,” “I Shall Be Released,” You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere,” Don’t Ya Tell Henry,” “Quinn the Eskimo,” “Million Dollar Bash,” “Lo and Behold!” and the like--offer a treasure trove of revelation, making the anticipation for acquisition well worth the wait.

These sly revisions gave the 1975 album a slight veneer that's been stripped away by this unfussy, startlingly clear remastering, but the big difference is that the chronological sequence on The Basement Tapes Complete gives the set a narrative.

Though spoilt in places by distortion and too-prominent electric piano, the hitherto unheard material is notable for the innovative exploration of yet another roots blend, through the impassioned country-soul of songs such as “That’s the Breaks”. Clearly, in this most congenial of creative cauldrons, virtually anything was possible.

Five stars aren’t enough, of course, to sum up this music. Maybe there are some tapes hidden out there for the bootleggers to scrounge up, but it seems likely that The Basement Tapes Complete has given us everything we truly need to hear from that extended magical moment in musical history.

In spring 1967, Dylan and the Band were out of step, but ahead of the curve. Now, 47 years on, even the listener overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of what’s on offer here--who doesn’t want to hear the false starts and fragments and gags--might conclude that the highlights are as timeless as rock music in the 60s got.

The Basement Tapes Complete is more historical document than album, one more interested in being comprehensive than being moment-to-moment marvelous.

he Basement Tapes are an integral part of music history. Here they are, warts and all, the reality for once a near-match for the bloated myth.

The full version does have a “you are there” advantage, letting the listener play a fly on the wall, taking in all the musicians’ experiments and gaffes. But the pruned version does a perfectly good job for most fans.

Amid the homespun (often leaden) renditions of Hank Williams, Ian & Sylvia et al is a clutch of nuggets, among them the bluesy Silent Weekend and the country moan Wild Wolf. A still mysterious, wondrous chapter in Dylanology.

Necessarily lo-fi, one accepts the sonic limitations of cheap tape and the fact this material was never meant to be released. [Jan 2015, p.120]