Bob Dylan’s 50th anniversary collection “1970” (Columbia), stands out for a multitude of reasons, the most alluring being that the tracks here might have been intended as a sequel to “The Bootleg Series Vol. 10: Another Self Portrait (1969- 1971).” Instead, the reasoning for the release of this set in December 2020 was to retain copyrights to the 74 recordings. Just released two weeks ago, “1970” contains the unreleased inclusion of all the tracks on which Dylan worked with his eventual Traveling Wilbury bandmate and brother George Harrison. There’s no question that with the exception of the Grateful Dead, no other artist has released as much archival material to the public as Dylan has. On this three disc set, there’s a lot of repetition, minus the Harrison tracks, but who cares? Drawing from 11 New York City recording sessions held between March and August 1970, this chronologically arranged musician’s diary offers listeners fascinating insights into Dylan’s creative process at a transitional time in his career. The result is a loose and revelatory glimpse of Dylan trying to figure out his 28 year-old self. The sound quality is crisp all through the set and at its best, the whole collection is a study of the different voices and tempers of Dylan’s singing. The Bob & George session, May 1, 1970 is probably the most widely bootlegged part, and now for the first time, it’s officially here. But at the end of the day, one question remains: Just how big is Bob Dylan’s basement?

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There is no polite way of saying what the Melvins do and how they do it. With “Working with God” (Ipecac Recordings), the offbeat band celebrates its 1983 lineup of members King Buzzo, Dale Crover and Mike Dillard with heavy riffages and juvenile jokes. At this stage in their career, the Melvins are out to entertain themselves as much as their audience. The songs twist and turn through bouts of novelty and noise and of course, the sludgy riffs that the band has made their staple. This history of the Melvins intertwines with the ascension of Seattle, grunge and in particular, Nirvana, in ways that position the band as a catalyst for all three. But don’t hear it wrong: considering the Melvins’ penchant for experimentalism and not to overstate it, noise, they’re more alt-rock than they probably care to be. Kicking things off is an adaptation of a classic Beach Boys’ song, crudely titled, “I [bleep] Around,” as the trio waste no time in presenting their intentions. The album is murky and frenzied, like an untethered wrecking ball crashing through walls and musical boundaries. This band has stretched belligerence beyond gentle measure and there are no bands that do it better. Whatever you do, find “God.”

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There are often hidden gems found in bands’ alternate takes or rarities discs. For English/French avant-pop group Stereolab, it sounds like they do their best work away from full-length LPs. “Electrically Possessed: Switched On Vol. 4” (Warp Records) is primarily made up of work Stereolab released from ’99 through ’09, when songwriter Jim Gane was writing infectious pop songs with multi-layered, almost progressive arrangements to support front woman Laetitia Sadier’s sociopolitical lyrics. Highlighting this compilation is the lead track, “Outer Bongolia,” a trance-like cut that features synth and piano clashes. “Dimension M2,” first released on ’05’s “Disko Cabinet” CD compilation, is a catchy, thumping song that sounds like Astrud Gilberto hijacked studio time (though here, the cut is sung in French, not Portuguese.)

This long-awaited set is all about deep cuts that have been sought after for years with a few exceptions; it collates the out-of-print tracks from “The First of the Microbe Hunters,” one-off and impossible to find tour 7″ compilation tracks and a couple of unreleased outtakes. Transient noise lovers will dig this material, while house newbies may discover why this band has been able to sustain and reinvent itself all at once. Noodling never sounded like so much fun.

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Marking its 20th anniversary, the National has reissued its early catalogue work, which includes their self-titled debut on 4AD records. Remastered at Abbey Road Studios, their first record’s sound is stunning, from the opening guitar strains and drum kit crescendo of “Beautiful Head,” to lead singer Matt Berringer’s stoic lyrics on “The Perfect Song.” “I never try to find you/ I hope you don’t remember me/ But I hope you’re not alone,” he rattles off. While it’s rare to hear any of these recordings performed live these days, they laid the groundwork for the band’s eventual sound. “The National” is loaded with smoldering indie Americana and is heavy on folkie instrumentals. When this record was first released in ’01, critics called it the perfect appetizer, with Berringer’s elegantly wasted views of everyday life. His lyrical delivery is deadpan and laidback, like an acoustic rap album. That said, tracks like “Cold Girl Fever,” which is lifted directly from Springsteen’s “My Hometown,” until the end when a menacing synth steps in, echo the sameness and tone of the set as a whole. The band was still finding its sound and more importantly, its voice. But from a historical perspective, it’s nice to know where somebody came from.

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