Before Al Kooper sat behind the Hammond organ during the Like a Rolling Stone sessions, he first tried out on guitar. After all, he was a guitarist, not an organ player.
But then Mike Bloomfield arrived and Kooper abandoned any hope of being Bob Dylan’s new guitarist. 🧵
As soon as Bloomfield started to play, Kooper realised that The Paul Butterworth Blues Band guitarist was streets ahead of him.
So Kooper retreated back behind the glass and waited for his next opportunity, while Bloomfield impressed more than just the hopeful usurper.
Bob Dylan was very excited about Mike Bloomfield.
In an outtake for the unused song Sitting on a Barbed Wire Fence, he sings “she ain’t as good as this guitar player I got right now”.
Bloomfield proved his worth on Like a Rolling Stone and even relegated another guitar star, Bruce Langhorne, to playing tambourine.
Dylan then recruited Bloomfield for his electric Newport band before inviting the guitarist to join the sessions for his next album.
Though Highway 61 Revisited is Dylan’s first true rock’n’roll album, guitars are rarely the star.
Even the most straightforward 12-bar blues song, From a Buick 6, is largely driven by Harvey Brooks' incredible bass line.
Bloomfield’s guitar solos are overpowered by Dylan’s harmonica but he’s doing sterling work throughout.
From a Buick 6 is about a strong, dependable, earthy woman - likely Dylan’s future wife, Sara Lownds, who may not have appreciated her walk being compared to Bo Diddley’s.
Bloomfield does get his chance to shine on the album’s second song - the one unenviably tasked with following up Like a Rolling Stone.
This is not a problem for the guitarist whose unleashes scorching solos after each chorus of Tombstone Blues.
Bloomfield is more than aided by Bobby Gregg’s drums, which are military-tight and relentlessly propel Tombstone Blues forward.
Dylan would later say that nothing like the song had ever been done before.
I had certainly never heard a sentence as acutely oblique as “The geometry of innocent flesh on the bone”.
Or as comically Orwellian as “the sun’s not yellow, it’s chicken”.
And I just adore that final verse about easing “the pain of your useless and pointless knowledge”.
Dylan asked Mike Bloomfield to join him on tour but the guitarist decided to stick with The Paul Butterfield Blues Band.
He soon grew weary of that band’s relentless schedule and left to form his own group, Electric Flag, which included Harvey Brooks on bass.
Electric Flag didn’t last long and Bloomfield spent the next decade flitting between various short-lived projects.
Plagued by insomnia and increasing drug use, he became erratic and unreliable, walking out on an Al Kooper collaboration after just one session.
By the late 70s, this prodigious talent was a recluse reduced to writing porn movie scores.
In 1981, less than a year after rejoining Dylan for a live show in San Francisco, Mike Bloomfield was found dead in his car after an accidental overdose of cocaine and methamphetamine.
Dylan would move on to longer lasting collaborations with other great guitarists.
Join me tomorrow for an unexpected encounter with another six-string virtuoso, who would amplify the allure of Highway 61 Revisited’s extraordinary closing song.
Before returning to the studio, Kooper joined Dylan at the 1965 Newport Festival.
There he endured the boos as part of the band that plugged in to perform Like a Rolling Stone, It Takes a Lot to Laugh... and that dynamite version of Maggie’s Farm:
If Kooper was not an organ player before Like a Rolling Stone, now he very much was.
He recalled how he and Dylan would find records that aped the sound of their song and laugh at hearing seasoned organists attempting to emulate Kooper’s unrehearsed style.
June 16, 1965. Session musician and songwriter, Al Kooper is about to blag his way into rock history by playing an instrument he doesn't even know how to turn on.
Such is the unplanned majesty of Bob Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone and the album it opens, Highway 61 Revisited. 🧵
Producer Tom Wilson had invited Kooper along to watch the second day of Bob Dylan and his band attempt to record an unusual and awkward new song.
But the ambitious Kooper had no intention of sitting on the sidelines behind the glass and instead sidled in among the musicians.
When Wilson moved Paul Griffin from the Hammond organ to piano, Kooper filled the vacated seat, relieved that Griffin had left the power on.
Despite being unfamiliar with his instrument and the song he was about to play, Al Kooper turned out to be one hell of an organ player.
If Bob Dylan’s fourth album really does present Another Side to the man, it’s the increasing influence of symbolist poets like Charles Baudelaire, Paul Verlaine and, especially, Arthur Rimbaud.
Jean Moréas' Symbolist Manifesto proclaims a hostility to “matter-of-fact descriptions”. Instead, life should be represented through “veiled reflections of the senses”.
Dylan applies this technique to philosophical songs like My Back Pages and is equally adept about love.
Spanish Harlem Incident is like his symbolist proving ground.
The song is essentially about an encounter with an enthralling gypsy woman that Dylan embellishes with some sublime imagery.
On Another Side..., Bob Dylan sings about anything but social issues.
He eventually addresses this rejection of the topical on the final song recorded for the album and torches his protest icon status with a crimson flame.
While Suze Rotolo’s presence is felt on The Time They Are a-Changin’s few songs about love, she’s certainly not the focus of that record as she was on The Freewheelin’.
But Another Side of Bob Dylan returns to her with greater candour that ever.
Suze could certainly be the “long lost lover” lamented on Black Crow Blues.
Though Another Side’s second song is more memorable as the first time Dylan plays piano on an album and he goes in hard with a rocking, boogie-woogie style.
Suze is definitely present on the album’s second-last song, the eight-minute epic, Ballad in Plain D.
It’s the story of an argument between the singer and the sister of his girlfriend – in real life, Carla Rotolo.
The stark, serious monochrome cover of The Times They Are a-Changin’ provides a notable contrast with the warm glow of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.
But Times’ austere Woody Guthrie impression is an accurate representation of the album’s mood. 🧵
And it’s the Freewheelin’s cuddled cover star who is partly the reason for this sombre tone.
Despite Suze Rotolo returning to the US after her year in Europe, she and Dylan went through a bitter breakup that fuelled two of the record’s finest songs.
Boots of Spanish Leather is a return to those Freewheelin' songs about her Italian absence as well as a musical revisit to Girl from the North Country.
A tale told through lovers' letters, the leaver asks if the other wants a souvenir from her travels.