A selection of those greatest hits is found within Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte. This is a monumental bootleg for those who find more than a passing interest in the sound Bob Dylan was piecing together at the end of the 1970s. Live at the Budokan remains the peak of this period, though the scraps collected on this unofficial bootleg are a treat. A year-long world tour following a year-long break from the stage, the hope is for a re-energised man to rattle through his hits in the rock style of the 1970s. This is exactly what occurs, but the overlap in those later dates, which would overhaul his sound once more for the gospel-driven period of the 1980s, can be heard too. Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte is a transitional sound, a document of interest to those who want clearer pairings of the similarities between Hard Rain and Trouble No More live selections.
If crueller hands were at this keyboard, then this world tour could be dubbed the divorce tour. Dylan was open about why he was performing in 1978, taking on stadium dates which, like the one in West Germany, were weighing heavier on the battle raging in his conscience. But a “couple of bad years” necessitate a tour as grand as this – and while those West Germany recordings are readily available to those who frequent bootleg offerings, Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte is a stronger overview of the tour. For the bulk of this bootleg, the ever-present desire to lift Dylan from what listeners perceive as a “classic” recording is clear. Charlotte, North Carolina, is an unlikely place for instrumental dares to be taken, but the city delights not just with its NASCAR Hall of Fame, but also as the grounds of change for Dylan. Horns, saxophones, and three backing singers are massive overhauls of Dylan’s sound, but what becomes clear on Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte is his obsession with modern rock and roll.
You can hear it in the buoyant performances of She’s Love Crazy and the staggering of those classic lines on Mr. Tambourine Man. Soft suggestions of the religious turn Dylan would take through the 1980s can be heard here. Dylan projects his voice, backed by softer instrumental stylings, a direction which serves the song and the higher power which brings this tone out of him. Instrumental overhauls heard throughout are not just satisfying but often provide some real beauty to the heartfelt hits. Tangled Up in Blue in this form is one of the very best performances Dylan has ever given. Carnival chatter before Ballad of a Thin Man is one of those rare, striking moments where he shares the chicken-eating context of the song. Dylan takes aim at inflation, which he says has made it far too expensive to watch carnies eat chicken. The death of the American Dream is unflinchingly looked upon by Dylan here. Sincerely.
One of the very best bootlegs around, and it is because Dylan is keen to adapt to the new decade. Charming comments made before the hits, tales of causing a disturbance, of feeling the weight when labelled the voice of a generation. Thrilling percussion, cowbells and keyboard work overhauls Maggie’s Farm, one of the many intoxicatingly perfect moments in this set. A euphoric I Shall Be Released is a spotlight-stealing moment, while later songs like Girl from the North Country and Just Like a Woman benefit from this intense adaptation. Am I Your Stepchild?, a rare Dylan song which was never recorded in the studio, sounds like a ready-made hit, though it was dropped in favour of those gospel-tinged songs. Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte is a defiant performance, a brilliant bootleg which evaluates many of the expected hits.
The best version of Like a Rollingstone I have ever heard
Spot on. I had hoped for a Bootleg Series release that would comprise Budokan, a summer show, and Charlotte. While biased, as my first Dylan concert was Chicago Stadium ’78, nearly all of the arrangements hold up remarkably well. As noted, the passion and defiance mask the fact that a long year on the road is drawing to a close. A return of “Senor” to the rotation would sadly be fitting these days. Worth seeking out is Solomon Burke’s delightful cover of “Stepchild” on his 2002 album, Don’t Give Up on Me.