There's something for everyone in Bob Dylan's vast catalogue. Many of his songs have become pop standards with countless cover versions, showcasing the mass appeal of the bard's talent. Some of his deep cuts have achieved cult status, while being unknown to the general public. The latter part of Dylan's oeuvre is just as open to interpretation as the "hits", and the results are often more interesting, despite (or maybe thanks to) being harder to come across. Many of the lesser known and underappreciated Dylan songs (including bootleg cuts) were lovingly and often liberally reinterpreted by Jemmy Joe, whose beautifully kaleidoscopic EP Bitter Sister we reviewed earlier this week. With more than a few (also reinterpreted) essentials thrown in for good measure, the results were collected into "Song And Dance Man", available as playlists on Spotify (embedded below) and Youtube (listen – and watch! – here).

The album starts with a rendition of "Dark Eyes", one of the most celebrated Dylan pieces from the 80s. The original closes 1985's "Empire Burlesque", and it was the last song written for the album after everything else has been already mixed and finalized. The barebones acoustic number feels like the throwback to Dylan's early days and a moment of "rest" from the album's unmistakable 80s sound. The simplicity of its production underlines the track's deep and serious tone.

So, yeah, just like the original feels fresh and sobering as the closing track, Jemmy Joe's album opener carries a similar effect. But with very different means. I can't say were not ready for those means. After all, Jemmy Joe is dressed and painted as a mime on the album cover. But what we hear still comes off as a punch to the face followed by a clown's devilish laugh.

How do we define the style of Jemmy's "Dark Eyes"? Well, it's something between alt-country, circus jams and slapstick cartoon music. We're staring at the abyss of dark eyes together with Jemmy, seeing the dead soldiers, abused lovers and kids gone astray, and we're wearing this inexplicable grin. "I find the character that is seeing the world to be an unreliable narrator," explains the trickster in mime attire. And we stand in awe, short for words. And all we see is dark eyes.

The dark eyes probably belong to the woman celebrated on the classic "She Belongs To Me", the second track reimagined for the collection. Jemmy Joe recorded his version together with The Pine Hearts – "Olympia's premiere bluegrass band". The song almost feels like a parody, since Jemmy imitates Dylan's voice for the record in the same tongue-in-cheek manner we've evidenced on "Dark Eyes". But it's always a fine line between mockery and deep seriousness with Jemmy Joe. A noteable example is the last line of the song, where he decided to substitute "drums" for "drugs", which ends the piece on a dark and ambiguous note.

Next comes "Missisippi", another iconic song, noteably left off of "Time Out of Mind", because the recording wasn't on-point. However, Dylan's minimalistic version we all know and love now could be even more stripped down, and with great effect. And Jemmy Joe makes this extra step, arranging the song in a style halfway between home-made disco and synth pop played on toy instruments. It's a wanderer's tale, and it makes sense to leave the wanderer with no more weight that he can carry, which is exactly what Jemmy does.

Wanderers may spend their lives on the road, but no roads are endless. On "Beyond the Horizon" Dylan sings he has "more than a lifetime to live lovin’" whoever he is lovin', which feels like talking of things lying beyond the line between life and death (more on that later). However, this is just one interpretation. Anyway, it is evident death is involved in one way or another. And Jemmy knows this: he signed a deal with sleep, death's cousin. And sleep gave him superpowers to arrange songs in an achingly dreamy and drowsy manner. He used it for "Beyond the Horizon" – great decision, for all the reasons hinted on above.

The second time the sleep-inducing power was used is on "The Man In The Long Black Coat" that sounds like the scariest lullaby you can imagine, and it's one of the most beautiful and emotional moments on the album.

Another such moment comes right after – I had goosebumps all over my body from Jemmy's rendition of the golden classic "Every Grain of Sand" recorded together with the amazing band Bitterbrush.

"Clean Cut Kid" is an almost-forgotten anti-war cut from "Empire Burlesque" that resonates today as hard as ever for obvious reasons. And Jemmy's folk-punk version sounds sharp, aggressive and earnest.

"Tomorrow Is a Long Time", in all of its essential Dylan's versions, is a reserved, intimate song that feels like it's not meant for strange ears. Jemmy Joe, of course, makes a theatrical, extraverted cover, and the approach works as always, only highlighting the song's qualities that it turns around.

Jemmy's recording of "Life Is Hard" is noteable for the beautiful guitar parts, as well as the generous use of reverb, that, together with the minimalistic arrangement, makes every note feel like a statement.

Many people wonder why "Lenny Bruce" is on "Shot of Love". Some may wonder why the less-celebrated cut is on "Song And Dance Man". Some say "Lenny Bruce" is on "Shot of Love" because it's also about Jesus. Most will agree it's about Dylan himself to a great extent. I hope everyone agrees it's about all of us, misunderstood and uncelebrated, even if it may seem otherwise. Who truly knows what we are? Maybe we are the realest when we fool around and pretend. Lenny Bruce tried to break through to his true self, while many were watching. Jemmy Joe does a similar thing on "Song And Dance Man". Everybody was misunderstood. Jesus too. Lenny Bruce too. And even Dylan felt misunderstood, that's why he probably wrote the song. Jemmy Joe is most likely misunderstood. But we're all breaking through, little by little. This song is just another small step.

Putting "What Good Am I?" next is a crazy and beautiful idea. It might feel subtle, but we've talked a lot about soul-searching in the previous paragraph, so it might just seem a bit blunter now. Or it might not. For Jemmy mixed up all the cards and put shades on all the windows. His version is avant-garde trip-hop with robotic vocals. Yes, the vocals are unintelligible. Which leaves "What Good Am I?" as an open question.

And we respect this decision and just head on, making a sudden jump from avant-garde electronica to another theatrical rendition of one of Dylan's most widely covered standards, "To Make You Feel My Love". The track is a collab with Daven Tillinghast, who has written for theatre a lot, so everything makes perfect sense. The song in all of its versions recorded by more than 450 artists all over the world is so omnipresent that it feels like an essential part of the landscape. So hearing Jemmy and Daven's goofy version felt strangely refreshing.

The album closes with one my favourite Dylan tracks, "Death Is Not The End". I remember, I promised we'll come back to the afterlife subject. And we have. But I have nothing to add. The music speaks for itself. The beauty of the song is in its supernatural, mysterious character. And Jemmy preserves it, turning it into a gospel sung by a half-scary, half-angelic choir of outlaws.

The album is dense and deep. The song choices may seem non-obvious, but, as we've seen, they are all interconnected. It's genuinely hard to embrace Jemmy's weird approach to covering songs so deeply rooted in tradition at first, but his punk spirit slowly wins you over and you start seeing the beauty behind the paint on his face. And there are moments of real beauty on the album. Expect goosebumps, expect hair-raising shots of truth, expect quiet revelations. It's all there in "Song And Dance Man", and it's a lesson in opening up your ears and your heart.