Although Bob has certainly released albums that in popular and critical perception were worse than Self-Portrait (Knocked Out Loaded, Down In The Groove, even 1973’s Dylan album) none have received the amount of derision and scorn that this one did. Why exactly? Of all of Bob’s musical U-turns that could’ve turned into career suicides (going from covers to originals, going from protest to personal, going from acoustic to electric, going from rock star to recluse hermit and then returning as a country gentleman) this was the only one that didn’t bring him for fans that he alienated in the process. It was the first move he made that didn’t seem wise in retrospect. Plus the title, Self-Portrait, certainly promised a far more in-depth and personal view of the artist than it delivered. But I think the thing that still bugs Dylan fans about Self-Portrait is the big question that hovers over the entire album: Why’d he do it? Was recording an album almost entirely of covers a big F.U. to Albert Grossman who he was suing for control of his songwriting royalties? (Much like Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music). Or even a big F.U. to all of those rabid fans who were dissecting even the trite clichés of Nashville Skyline hoping for a deeper meaning? Much like the motorcycle accident, a way/excuse to slow down the star-making treadmill he was trapped on. Or had the “amnesia” set in and this was the best that Bob could do? He has claimed that Self-Portrait was in his own way his “bootleg” record. What did he mean by that? It’s not like this was previously unreleased (legally) material that he put out, like The Bootleg Series or even The Basement Tapes, he deliberately recorded this to sound like a bootleg that didn’t exist. Considering that the big Bob bootleg at the time was The Great White Wonder, which mixed 1961 Dinkytown recordings with 1967 Woodstock demos, he might have meant that Self-Portrait was just as jumbled, schizophrenic and incompatible with itself. For those looking for something Bob’s lyrics, this double album was certainly a disappointment. He didn’t even write 2/3rd of the songs. And those he did write were either really sloppy live versions from the Isle of Wight Festival of previously released songs, or songs with no words (“Woogie Boogie”, Wigwam”) or only two lines repeated ad infinitum (“All The Tired Horses”). Really the only new lyrics on here belonged to “Living The Blues” and “Minstrel Boy”. But I like it. It’s one of my all-time favorite Dylan albums. Of course, that may just be my tendency to root for the underdog. Plus the fact that I was not around to be disappointed during its initial release. But really it’s not that bad. If you look at it right. Don’t think of it as an accurate, in-depth look into Dylan’s whole life. Rather see it as a blurry snapshot from a day in the life. Singing along to a couple of pop tunes on the radio that he kind of likes (“The Boxer”, “Early Morning Rain”). Remembering some old tunes from his past growing up in the 50s (“Blue Moon”, “Let It Be Me”). But mostly some older folk tunes that he discovered later and inspired him in the early days playing (“Copper Kettle”, “Belle Isle”, “Little Sadie”, “Alberta #1” & ”#2”). Even trying to figure out the chords to one of them (“In Search Of Little Sadie”). Goofing around outside the studio making music, ala The Basement Tapes (“Woogie Boogie”, “Minstrel Boy”). Trying to figure out some words (“Wigwam”) or at least the next line (“All The Tired Horses”) of some new songs he’s just started writing. Going to his day job singing songs he doesn’t really feel connected to anymore (the live versions of “She Belongs To Me” and “Like A Rolling Stone” with the forgotten lyrics). It’s almost Dylan’s most recorded record (at least until Empire Burlesque). Unlike all Dylan albums up to this point (and most after) which sound like they were recorded in under a week with a new group of under-rehearsed musicians learning the songs for the first time. This album features what is Dylan’s first vocal overdub, when he harmonizes with himself (almost) on “The Boxer”. And while there are some definite recording tricks and time taken on this album there is still a certain amount of the usual sloppiness on the album (like the unmistakable error that ruins the otherwise perfect “Days Of 49”). But it’s like he’s taken these little doodles on crumpled up napkins and put them into these ornate gilded frames. Much the same way Phil Spector’s production transformed the Beatles’ Get Back project into the perplexing Let It Be. Definitely not what anyone wanted or expected at the time. In some respects, it was so weird, that every album that got decent critical or popular acclaim after it (New Morning, Blood On The Tracks, Infidels, Oh Mercy, Time Out Of Mind) were considered comebacks.