Mr. Dylan

Mr. Dylan
2006 Rolling Stone Cover Photo

Welcome

My intention is to explore Dylan's work from the objective viewpoint of one who has always admired him but has only recently come to appreciate the depth and intricacy of his writings--let alone his staying power. In recent months I've come upon an avalanche of information: biography, music and literary criticism/interpretations, photos, interviews, etc. Among these are some books and websites that may cover a broad spectrum of information while others focus on minute details. Truly, an abundance--perhaps an overabundance of information. What I really would like to have found was a pathway through this maze that could point me to some sort of logical progression toward a better understanding of the man and his work without getting bogged down in the fanatacism and/or misinformation/speculation that's out there.

So, to both give myself a framework for organizing this information and a logical approach to understanding it, I've decided to follow the music. The method I have chosen is to listen intensely to 1 album per week--in the order in which they were recorded (not necessarily in the order in which they were released) which are listed below. This way I hope to get a sense of the progression and development that are so much a part of Dylan's presence in the historical context of 20th/21st century popular music. Using this as the trunk of my knowledge tree I can then 'branch out' to other information as it becomes relevant, thereby building a chronological knowledge base.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

John Wesley Harding recorded Oct./Nov. 1967, released December 27, 1967.


Background: The booing. The hoopla. Europe. Life threats. Amphetamines. Press conferences. Woodstock. THE accident (June 29, 1967).The Recording: The trees are bare. Dry leaves rustle under your feet. November air touches your face with chilled fingers. A plaintive voice (can it be Dylan?) tells you stories as you make your way, unsure of your destination, but feeling that your journey’s origins were in a solid place. Settings for many of the tales you hear—John Wesley Harding, As I Went Out One Morning, All Along the Watchtower, I Am a Lonesome Hobo, Drifter’s Escape, Dear Landlord, I Pity the Poor Immigrant— are as stark as your own surroundings and the spare accompaniment of acoustic guitar, harmonica and unobtrusive drum. I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine and The Wicked Messenger confront Biblical allusion with an even greater directness than Highway 61 Revisited. The album ends with the upbeat Down Along the Cove and I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight, a surprisingly mellow love song that might be considered the foreplay preceding Lay, Lady, Lay. Dylan’s listener/fan base had already been splintered by his electric evolution. Now, it would seem, both factions would be left dazed by this album. Yet another Dylan has emerged. Unvarnished, unpretentious—unplugged. Where did this come from? (The basement at “Big Pink”, but that’s not an official answer until 1975.) Where is this going? (That question will be answered many months later in one word: Nashville.)

Conclusion: Dylan’s muse has lured him to yet another seemingly unknown region. If listeners didn’t understand that the tenacious pull of transformation is Dylan’s driving force when he ‘went electric’, this album should have brought the fact into clearer focus for them.

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