This is the part of the programme where you - yes, you mere customer, join in. Celebrate your madness, get down little children and write some shit about the things you love. But don't get down on all fours and raise your front paws, "I can't do it. I don't know how to write." Give it a shot, you little coward. Write a review. Nothing is sacred. Nor refused!

Here's a few starters to whet your appetite. As denim delinquent fan Roy Batty put it, "I want more reviews, fucker."

Send your little beauties to jymn@denimdelinquent.net

"Baby, Let Me Follow You Down," from Bootleg Series: Bob Dylan Live 1966

Don't know why this live version isn't talked about more. It's easily the highlight of the set. Even though it's not a Dylan song, he makes it his own. His phrasing on the startling lyrics are absolutely chilling. When Dylan sings, "I would do anything in this god almighty world if you just once drive me out of mind," you feel the desperation, the inhalation of life and the consummation of another perfect lyric.

But, that's just a small part of the beauty. The band clicks into gear in on this track. Dylan's harmonica at the opening is actually melodic. Robertson's three solos are perfection - a rare guitarist who knows how to rip his guitar fluidly into the space and flow out with a precision and emotion so few solos have in modern music. Same goes for the next solo by Garth Hudson on organ. My god, can it get any better? Oh yeah. Richard Manuel's piano weaves and out before you can exhale.

This is not to diminish the rest of the set. It deserves a right to be considered as much more than just an historical artifact. It is definitely not just a document. It is a ragged, precise work of art.

Quarter After

Granted, the songs are merely platforms for the instruments. The singing's not spectacular. But these guys can play. What puzzles me is the amount of negative reviews here for this disc. They all sound like they were written by the same person. Either someone's got a grudge against a band member or they're so used to digital ear-bleed masterings that this smooth, luxurious mastering job by a guy named Brad Vance isn't fast-food enough for them. Vance brings out the clang of the Rickenbachers and the snap of the tambourines. You can turn this up without the neighbors calling the cops. It sounds that good. I guess not too many people like real-sounding recordings anymore. As close to analog as you can get with digital. If you have a decent system, give this a try. Wait til you hear that bassist. It sounds like he and the band are in the same room as you. Turn this mother up. It's OK. And then turn it up a little more...

Ys -Joanne Newsom

The Shaggs were recorded at that moment in time when their ouevre was perfection. They couldn't play their instruments that well yet and their singing was unprofessional. The songs were scraps of pure teenage whimsy. Joanna Newsom is coming from a totally opposite direction from the Shaggs. She is produced to the nth degree with layers of sound and songs that go on forever. Newsom is perfection in apposition to the Shaggs. In Newsom's case, perfection is discordant but banal. Sterile and rehearsed. Dead air gone bad. Granted, she is a novelty and a striking one. I'll give her that. But I think Van Dyke Parks has better things to do. Like reunite The Shaggs and get Steve Albini to engineer the CD. Now, that would be perfect.
 

Wolfking of LA - John Phillips

One of my favorite all-time albums, this new reissue sounds great, if a tad different than the vinyl. I don't much care for digital, but this baby has presence and feel. Nice job. As for the music - every song is classic melodic pop/rock with superb instrumentation. I love the fact John's voice is buried somewhat in the sound. It provides an homogeneous feel that causes me to turn up the volume and surround myself with memorable music. The original collection of songs are quality, only diminished slightly by the new bonus tracks. Like another reviewer stated, this album will last a long, long time. It's a prime candidate for the Repeat button. A no-brainer.