Introduction by Max Crinnin, Asst. Arts Editor
I can't write about Bob Dylan. I find there are not enough words, and at the same time, too few, as I am limited here to 1,600 characters for your reading pleasure.
Bob Dylan is a legendary musician, and you'd struggle to find someone who doesn't agree. While most people think he deserves a special place in history, they also have varying opinions about the man and his music.
This means nothing to me.
Some say he was the "voice of a generation," or a spokesperson; they label him a folk singer, a poet, a prophet - I think they're mistaken.
Others say, "His voice is terrible." Many dismiss him as a druggie who "doesn't make any sense." Some think he abandoned his roots for sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
I disagree.
"Some people are just not interested in Dylan. But for those who are, he goes way, way deep," said Joan Baez in the 2005 documentary No Direction Home: Bob Dylan.
This much is true for me; I'm interested.
To me, Dylan is an artist. One particular artist Dylan has said he admires himself is Anton Chekhov, who famously said that it is the artist's job to ask questions, not to answer them.
Dylan constantly explores the gray area known as life. Nothing ever seems black or white with him; Dylan asks questions.
I was raised on his music. At a young age, I became incredibly drawn towards him, and his music has been a companion and source of wonder to me for as long as I can remember.
Finding out that my student activities fee was contributing towards the funding of a Bob Dylan concert at Alumni Arena was the first pleasant surprise I've had with regards to Student Association events. Clearly, the times are a-changin'.
But I am still filled with questions: is the older, wheezing Dylan a lesser performer than the man I have built up as a hero in my mind? Is UB the right audience for him? Will I make it through the door before the tickets sell out? Who is Dawes?
I urge all those interested to attend the show on April 5, because one thing's for sure: you can only answer your questions about Bob Dylan by finding out for yourself - not by asking.
Essential Albums:
Blonde on Blonde (1966) - This is an album that's not supposed to be this easy to like. First, Dylan looks smug as hell with that scarf on. Then there's that 70+ minutes of length; Blonde on Blonde is also considered one of rock's first double albums. This could've easily been an overly indulgent affair.
Plus, the album isn't even all that focused as it feels like a series of emotional rants. He starts the album with "Rainy Day Women #12 & #35," which casts society as this ugly, judgmental, shallow machine. However, Blonde on Blonde works because it's unfocused. It touches on emotions that range from heartbreaking loneliness ("Visions of Johanna") to yearning ("One Of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)"). He's able to turn these abysses into beauty throughout the long length of the album.
Dylan only looks smug because he already knows he will blow your mind.
The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan (1963) - Also known as the album where Bob Dylan became Bob Dylan: the poetic, vivid musician critics and fans have come to laud. The interesting thing about this work is how the musical accompaniment sounds somewhat peaceful and easy, while Dylan's vocal sounds grandfatherly.
But how could Dylan's voice have so much wisdom when he's speaking of racism, war and the irrational concept of love? He even says "the answer is blowin' in the wind" in the album opener. Freewheelin' sounds too nice, too stuck in its own motion while the rest of us are just stuck, for listeners to question his logic.
Highway 61 Revisited (1965)- Rolling Stone declared this was Bob Dylan's best album in its famous 500 Greatest Albums of All Time list - it ranked No. 4 overall. It also has what's considered by many to be one of the greatest songs of all time - "Like A Rolling Stone."
The expectations are already high for putting this album on for the first time, but Highway 61 Revisited sounds best when its listened to detached from them. Disregard the cultural ramifications of Dylan's classic. Disregard the fact this album singlehandedly changed the course of music. Doing the opposite may cause the listener to miss the rock n' roll thrills of "Tombstone Blues" and the pathos of "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues."
Bruce Springsteen once said "Like A Rolling Stone" is a "snare shot that sounded like somebody'd kicked open the door to your mind." Might as well leave that door unlocked.
Blood on the Tracks (1975) - Dylan seemed confident and self-assured on Blonde on Blonde, his last masterpiece of the '60s. The cover of Blood on the Tracks displays a painting of Dylan looking sullen behind his sunglasses. He's visibly hurt from his broken relationship with Sara Dylan, his ex-wife.
It's the type of hurt that forces such an artist to look inward, which just happens to be inhabited by lush instrumentals accompanied by heartache. Blood on the Tracks is ambivalent at its best ("Tangled Up In Blue") and painful at its most poignant ("If You See Her, Say Hello"). And it all sounds beautiful.
Bringing It All Back Home (1965) - A major turning point in Dylan's artistry. Here, Dylan isn't this folk social activist hero but a rock star with his own band. Bringing It All Back took all the strengths that made his civil rights-related lyrics impactful and refocused them into a work that effortlessly switched from reflective to frantic.
Case in point: For the opener "Subterranean Homesick Blues," fans were treated to fast-flowing, stream-of-consciousness lyricism that felt like a bad LSD trip you can't stop replaying. It's followed by the nostalgic "She Belongs To Me."
The album also contains essential cuts like "Mr. Tambourine Man" and the haunting "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)." Bringing It All Back ends with the emotional "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue," which features some of Dylan's most soul-slashing howls. The album as a whole may be a bit much to take in, but it's a challenge that will make the listener feel emotionally renewed by the final harmonica chord.
Essential Songs
"Blowin' In The Wind" (The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan) - Considered by many to be the greatest protest song of all time next to Aretha Franklin's "Respect" and Sam Cooke's "A Change Is Gonna Come." It's also one of the most ambiguous. What does it mean when the answers are blowing in the wind?
"Like A Rolling Stone" (Highway 61 Revisited) - Don't take the fact that it was named No. 1 on Rolling Stone's Greatest Songs of All Time list as the sole testimony of the song's greatness. It's impossible to explain why this song is still relevant after 48 years in mere words.
"Tombstone Blues" (Highway 61 Revisited) - It's not debatable that "Like A Rolling Stone," which directly precedes "Tombstone Blues" on Highway 61 Revisited, is a better song. That doesn't stop the opening drums from being thrilling, though.
"Subterranean Homesick Blues" (Bringing It All Back) - A barrage of non-sequiturs, imagery and juxtapositions, amongst other things. All in a sub-2:30 package.
"Mr. Tambourine Man" (Bringing It All Back) - Another Dylan song where critics can't seem to agree what exactly he's talking about. Is the synonymous character alluding to a real person? We may never truly know.
"Visions of Johanna" (Blonde On Blonde) - Generally hailed as a masterpiece. Dylan's depiction of loneliness is so over the top, it can almost be taken as hallucinogenic.
"If You See Her, Say Hello" (Blood On The Tracks) - This was extremely vulnerable coming from a man whose lyrical prowess seem to have the ability to change the world. And so emotional, too: "Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow/She might think that I've forgotten her, don't tell her it isn't so." Not a dry eye in the audience.
"Tangled Up In Blue" (Blood On The Tracks) - "[This song] took me 10 years to live, and two years to write," Dylan said of this track. It seems fair enough because "Tangled Up In Blue" feels like it covers life itself: hope, optimism, love, loss. This is only just the guitar we're talking about here.
"All Along The Watchtower" (John Wesley Harding) - Dylan takes the listener on a journey on this cut, a journey that is at least three times as epic in Jimi Hendrix's version.
"Not Dark Yet" (Time Out Of Mind) - As a track in one of Dylan's more haunting masterworks, "Not Dark Yet" finds emotion in the middle of an abyss.
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