On the Shelf 220: Bob Dylan

What is there to say about the new Dylan album that hasn’t been said? Surely nothing.

But If I am going to try and write about what I am listening to,I owe it a few words. It is the first album of original Dylan material in eight years, so there was no way that it would be treated in the same manner of albums in the late 80s/early 90s that came out every year or two.

That said, even with high expectations, I find this to be a success.

The sixteen minute Murder Most Foul largely overshadowed the release. It’s a monster epic.

For me, given enough time from release, I think I can give it an appraisal.

Murder Most Foul is still a monster. That said, I am less beholden to its spell. The album, particularly opener ‘I Contain Multitudes’ suffers in comparison. Both seem to be drawn from the same place- a stream of consciousness word association.

Multitudes doesn’t have the same level of seriousness, but it adds Dylan’s humor which makes me (blasphemously) prefer it some days.

When Dylan compares himself to Anne Frank, you aren’t sure how to take it. The Dylan of the infamous 1965 San Francisco press conference never really left. He’s always been hard to read and hellbound on doing his own thing.

But if he means that he will be taught in the history book, he’s not wrong. At this point, it is long into the National lexicon that any promising songwriter is called a “new Dylan”

The album surely draws a bit from his Sinatra era, and towards the back half, the Blues. He is at once, an elder statesmen of American music and the guy who led the Rolling Thunder Revue.

He is why we are sad when our artists like Bowie, Prince and Lou Reed pass before attaining a century of life. Who can say what gems our classic writers can create in their Autumn years.

This is a strong set of songs that really leave an impact.

I suspect though Dylan would think I am being too serious. Does this album give me enjoyment when I listen? My lands, yes.

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