A supposed seventeen “fan favourites”, as the sticker on the front cover suggests Yet Pure Dylan, a compilation of Bob Dylan songs, is anything but. There is a tricky nature to compiling an inevitable best-of, but the bold moves made on what should be a relatively run-of-the-mill release are fascinating. Few, if any of the songs on here, are pure Dylan, nor are they familiar to the passing listener. Every Grain of Sand, perhaps, given its inclusion in the Rough and Rowdy Ways shows of late, but little of this is familiar territory even to those who have listened in and listened well. All the better it is as a project, then. Pure Dylan sidesteps the obvious choices, the John Wesley Harding rips and the nod to a rebirth in interest. This is pure Dylan in the sense of it being an evasive album, one which does not play up to the expectations of the crowd.
Opener Trouble in Mind, an unreleased song which Dylan has never played live, sets the scene. These are songs which may or may not be a pure example of Dylan, but pure in what? As a songwriter? A commanding voice? Who knows. Pure Dylan does not. It is just a title, after all. What it provides beyond questions of fundamental interest is a glimpse into Dylan’s unreleased backlog. Who knows what else is in there? The amount of bootlegged material out there which has not yet been officially released is telling. What is telling, too, is the quality heard throughout Pure Dylan. These may not be the hits, but for anyone wanting a sampler of deep cuts, this is the perfect listen. Trouble in Mind is from the religious period, but the worship of work and the servitude in far-off lands is magical songwriting. A smooth and cool Mark Knopfler groove carries it somewhere it was never destined to reach in the public eye.
There are familiar tracks within, songs adjacent to the hits. Girl from the North Country is a nice choice, though shambolic in its placement. Pure Dylan is a clutter of fantastic material. Sift through it and be rewarded for persevering. Catch yourself in the right mood, and a song like Most of the Time will find itself close to the top of the pile in Dylan’s discography. A song of love and hate, the back-and-forth which comes from being in the public eye with your problems, the illusions we create to fend off harm, all caught in a moment. A monumental piece from Dylan which rests on his excellent Oh Mercy album. Use Pure Dylan as a chance not to take in the moments, but to revisit the parts you missed along the way.
What is worth noting about the endless compilations is that, occasionally, you get one of real value. For every Pure Dylan, there are twenty more generated YouTube playlists of slop sifting through the same early recordings. Reconnecting with songs from already listened-to albums is easy, and the point of any great compilation should be that, to shine a light on the avenues missed on a first drive. Perhaps it is the tone of the evening, the lighter skies and the overwhelming urge to connect through experience, but Pure Dylan is a shining example of Dylan interacting with an audience without seeing them. Songs which, on first glance, feel ramshackle in their collection, but after a listen, the intent is honest. Brilliant inclusions like Sugar Baby and This Dream of You shine a light on the lesser-known pieces, the songs which are lost amid the praise of Rough and Rowdy Ways and the padded safety of his 1960s and 1970s period. Pure Dylan is a worthwhile, thrilling compilation.
Well said!