It is, arguably, Dylan’s greatest album – but the story behind the recording of ‘Blood On The Tracks‘ shows that it didn’t have an easy time in coming together. It was originally recorded in September 1974 in New York using Eric Weissberg’s band – because Dylan had been unable to get some of the musicians he really wanted. The book’s first chapter captures the conflicted recording sessions, which in the end would yield only three cuts that would make the final album. Dylan is portrayed as unhelpful, out of sorts, unhappy with suggestions and in no mood to take up the coincidentally present in the building Mick Jagger’s offer to do some backing vocals. The sessions completed, Dylan was slow to give his approval for the final track selection – a sign in retrospect that he was not happy with what he had. And so, in December, Dylan headed to Minneapolis, not far from where he grew up and where he still had family – notable for this story is his brother David Zimmerman who was a producer and talent manager. He had the connections to the local music scene and, when Dylan suggested a recording session, was able to find a studio – Studio 80 – and a band that he could recruit with relative ease even though the first session was to be just 2 days after Christmas. Dylan was not making things easy for himself on his choice of session days, but a phone call from brother David inviting musicians in that was caveated with “it has to be now” and “I can’t tell you who it is for” and the stern warning that “you can’t bring anyone else with you” was enough to get the necessary response from anyone able to connect the dots.
Having set the scene, ‘Blood In The Tracks‘ now launches into its main theme – the musical biographies of those musicians who turned up to play with Dylan both before the sessions and afterwards. And a varied musical history they provide – already recognised as a highly capable mandolin player, 21-year-old Peter Ostoushko almost missed out on the recordings as he was sick with the flu; drummer Bill Berg and bassist Billy Peterson where the house rhythm section at Studio 80 so were obviously through the door; Gregg Inhofer was the keyboardist for a progressive rock band with jazz fusion pretensions; Chris Weber was a guitarist and, perhaps more importantly, ran a local guitar shop and had in stock the kind of Martin guitar Dylan needed – but naturally hadn’t brought himself; and Kevin Odegard was an aspiring singer-songwriter who had played the Gaslight in New York, released an album, had some tastes of success but had found that success did not translate into dollars and had taken a job on the railway to make ends meet. When the call came from David Zimmerman, Odegard almost ignored it – assuming he was being called in to do an extra shift which on December 27th he didn’t want to do. Eventually, though, he gave in to the persistent ringing.
Paul Metsa and Rick Shefchik then carefully weave the story of the players into the story of the sessions, giving a rundown of each player’s varied careers to that date. Amongst them they had played in a large number of bands – bands which reflected their musical interests and bands that enabled them to pay bills even if they didn’t really care for the music. A lot of bands, and that’s perhaps the heart of the book – the description of what people who want to have a life making music will do even if it never leads to huge success or recognition. Gregg Inhofer, for example, had a mid-sixties band Pepper Fog which never quite broke through but did play on bills with a fake version of The Animals, he also played in Olivia Newton John’s touring band, as well as bands focused on his jazz-fusion preference at a time when much of the world really wasn’t looking for jazz-fusion. At the time of the sessions though, these players were still young, and opportunities still lay ahead of them, and of course, the kudos of playing on Dylan’s latest album wouldn’t hurt. And that brings us to the section of the book that covers the fallout from the sessions.
The studio sessions had, naturally, attracted session rates for the musicians. And whilst there may have been the odd suggestion to try a different tempo or change the key from take to take, this was studio talk and wasn’t going to garner anyone a co-credit on a Dylan song even if the advice was adopted. The one thing that would count would be the album credits – only there was a problem. The release date was the New Year and the sleeves had already been printed with the New York players credited. Not to worry – the album was a guaranteed big seller and the credits would be corrected on the next batch. Only they weren’t. No amount of word of mouth about the true players on the majority of the album’s songs – fully five songs came out of the Minnesota session – would ever bring the level of respect and potential interest in working with the same players who had done so much for Dylan. In fairness, Paul Metsa and Rick Shefchik do put the other side – the New York players felt to some extent cheated out of having their efforts out there and fully acknowledged. It was a situation that would remain unrectified until the release of ‘More Blood, More Tracks‘ put out the recordings from both sessions and gave the proper credits. There’s a slight redemption to the story as the group reconvened and put on successful shows, with guest singers, as the Blood on the Tracks band. Some had gone on to moderate fame – Peter Ostoushko being perhaps the exemplifier of that, with many TV appearances and a dozen or so albums to his name. Kevin Odegard became involved in artists’ rights, forming an industry lobby for songwriters. Gregg Inhofer’s further career was varied – including a rock band for kids and a spoof Sixties band. Drummer Bill Berg and bassist Billy Peterson forged ahead on the basis that there’s always a need for a reliable drummer and a reliable bassist – their credits are varied, and many.
Although in interviews for the book, there are general denials about any long-lasting regrets at the potential big break not working out, it is something that gets said a lot of times. The fickle nature of fortune in the music business is a clearly made point. On the other hand, Chris Weber’s wife recounts that he made the right choice in not pursuing an offer to go on tour with Dylan, noting that they’d have had only one child and she’d be married to someone else by now. ‘Blood In The Tracks‘ is a book that brings together all the memories that still exist about a brief recording session which arguably changed what it meant to be a singer-songwriter forever. It shines an outsider’s light on Dylan in the studio, threads in the iniquities that the musical business can be guilty of, but mostly it records the varied musical paths that most musicians will tread to some extent – the perpetual trying, the occasional almost success, the choices made that are ultimately right or wrong and can have either outcome reverse how it looks once enough life has been lived. Well worth a read, even for those not particularly interested in Dylan.
