Dylans' mistrust of love comes to the fore on this record pretty early on. Whether painting a tentative picture of its approach, or recounting a hastily beaten retreat from rejection, he warns us of its charms, both coming and going. Can it be any coincidence that our narrator is a man slouching away from middle age, toward scary territory ("Maybe in the next life, I'll be able to hear myself think," he muses on "Million Miles")? Just as we're wondering if all of this is anything more than the cynicism of a dour old man who's seen too much, Dylan reminds us of his playful gift for turn of phrase and winsome rhyme on "Trying to Get to Heaven." Then he plunges right back into regret and commiseration... The overall sound of the record is one of tight, expressive blues, crafted handily and generously by Daniel Lanois, whose approach suggests that he's not only humbled by what he has on his hands, but at times, perhaps a bit intimidated by it. The best synthesis of Dylan's languid attack and Lanois' restrained production is "Not Dark Yet," a meditation on mortality and the burden of bearing it from Dylan, met by an appropriately accommodating, countrified approach from Lanois. From there, it's hit or miss: "Make You Feel My Love" serves as an antithesis to "Not Dark Yet," an uneasy meeting of plaintiveness on Dylan's part and deference on Lanois' that just doesn't quite work. Things get better with "I Can't Wait," a bluesy re-telling of a love disintegrating. On the record's closer "The Highlands," Lanois cuts Dylan loose to do his thing, and do his thing he does, for nearly seventeen minutes; the song is a breathtaking account of a long life, fully realized but not quite over... Here Dylan considers the meaning of at once growing old and feeling young, expressed poignantly in this lyric: "Listenin' to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound; someone's always yelling, turn it down!" This sentiment is elaborated on in classic Dylan fashion, in an exchange with a waitress in a restaurant several verses later. While life is often dark, for Dylan it's not dark yet, and he'll be the last to let us, or that waitress, forget it...
Some other thoughts:
#409, Eric Clapton's 461 Ocean Boulevard: I've never been all that much of a Clapton guy... Sure, he's an amazing guitar player, and there's really nothing I find all that off-putting about his work, I've just never been able to wrap my mind around the whole "Clapton Is God" thing. That said, there are some tracks on this one that I can enjoy. The record opens with the blazing "Motherless Children," while "I Shot the Sheriff" is a classic, and of course, a favorite of most Bob Marley fans. "Mainline Florida" is a hedonistic romp through sub-tropical climes that would do Jimmy Buffet proud, while "Meet Me (Down at the Bottom)" offers the perfect soundtrack to being the last one awake, with the bong all to himself, before having maybe just one more beer before passing out next to that hot chick over there... Come to think of it, maybe I *am* a Clapton guy!
#407, The Doors' Strange Days: The Doors' second record made its way to Billboard's top ten in late 1967, just as their debut was retreating from it, cementing the band's place among peers Joplin, Hendrix and the Beatles as late '60s icons. Strange Days is characterized by somewhat tighter songwriting and arrangements than the band's debut, as well as an increased focus on instrumentation (some tracks even feature bass!). Good stuff from these guys on their second effort.
No comments:
Post a Comment