Million Dollar B-Day Bash

Clipping from my first Dylan concert, 1992

In honor of the former Robert Zimmerman's 70th birthday, Rolling Stone published yet another of its moronic lists: 'The 70 Greatest Dylan Songs.'  Compiled by an expert panel of 13 white men, the list consists of short blurbs treating mostly, from what I can tell, of what the songs mean personally to Bono.  The decreasingly cool magazine's dedication to ranking things has had me cringing for years.  Rock 'n' Roll was never meant to be labeled and ordered and categorized.  The issue does, however, make one good point: Bob Dylan is 70 (yesterday), and we should be celebrating that milestone.

I'm exactly half Dylan's age, and I consider it a great stroke of fortune that several decades of my life will have overlapped with his.  I've seen him in concert nine times--more than a few of those with McBone's official musicologist, Darin.  As long as Bob doesn't tire of re-imagining his songs, I'll never get tired of hearing them.

And that's really the point, isn't it?  More than trying to figure out why Masters of War is the 26th greatest Dylan song, or wondering why the hell Man Gave Names to All the Animals is nowhere to be found on the list?  Bob never had much use for that kind of crap, and so I'll avoid lazy journalism and instead devote my time to doing what my sometimes-pregnant wife has been doing all week: listening to the songs.

I'm gonna start with Rolling Stone's 63rd favorite, which just happens to be my no. 1.

I love you, Bob.  Thanks for everything.

nwb

Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Carter, Reagan, Bush and Clinton

Happy holidays!

I hate Christmas music.

Actually, let me rephrase that: I freaking haaate Christmas music (jury's still out on bell choirs, though).  Nothing vexes me more than hearing Frosty the Snowman two weeks before Halloween, and if I'm ever made to hear that song about grandma and the reindeer again, the world will pay.

An outbreak of plague seems a welcome alternative to any album with the words 'Country' and 'Christmas' in the title.  I don't care if he does have a moustache; no way I'm gonna sit still while Alan Jackson twangs his way through Silent Night. In the name of mercy, deliver me!

And yet, come December even my coal-black heart is capable of some measure, however small, of holiday cheer.  Here are two notable and delightful exceptions, one from the Pretenders:



And another from Bob Dylan:



Chan! Chan! I'm waiting for you to join this short but worthy list.

nwb

Forget Dasher and Dancer; Only Vixens Here

My loyalty to Bob Dylan runs deep.  There's no record of his that I don't own, and some of them are really pretty awful.  I've even got that crummy album from when he got all saved on us.

His latest album, however, is not Christian Rock. No sir, it's something far more frightening.  It is, god help us, Christmas Music.

I enjoy Christmas music about as much as I enjoy a poke in the eye.  My wife, however, adores the stuff, and she ordered Dylan's Christmas in the Heart as soon as it was available on Amazon.  Due to our household embargo on Christmas music that runs from January 1st to November 30th, she has yet to pop Bob's new release into the old hi-fi.  Them's the rules 'round here.

However, I have had a chance to peruse the contents of the packaging, and I have to say that, while Bob's picture is nowhere to be found, I approve wholeheartedly:

In fact, I'm going to just go ahead and dust off the old McBone Seal of Approval for this one: McB.

Ah, Christmas, Bob Dylan and sex.  You know, just this once, we may have to lift that embargo.

nwb

Set List, The Bob Dylan Show, July 10th, 2009

Last night Alex, suegra and I hopped in the McBonemobile and raced over at warp speed to Fifth Third Field in Dayton, Ohio. The Bob Dylan Show featured another pair of legends, Willie Nelson and Johnny Cougar, and the venue was the cozy home of Class A ballclub, the Dayton Dragons (currently languishing at 6-9 in the Midwest League). While we love Willie Nelson (and are 100% indifferent to Mellencamp), Bob was the reason we made the three-hour drive. Full of hotdogs and beer and piss and vinegar, we found a good spot and parked ourselves on the outfield grass. Here's the set list from his completely awesome performance:

Beyond Here Lies Nothin'
Lay Lady Lay
Lonesome Day Blues
Love Sick
The Levee's Gonna Break
Beyond the Horizon
Honest with Me
Make You Feel My Love
Highway 61 Revisited
If You Ever Go to Houston
Summer Days
Like a Rolling Stone*
Jolene
All Along the Watchtower

This marks, by my calculations, the 9th time I've seen Dylan in concert. How does this one rank? Pretty near the middle, I'd say. I'm not sure he'll ever surpass a certain night in Columbus in 1996, when he redefined the meaning of transcendence, but this was really, really, really good. Mostly he stuck to his post 1999 output, a pretty even mix of songs from the last four albums with a few classics thrown in for good measure. The band, a bit loose at the beginning, was in top form by the time they cranked out Lonesome Day Blues. From there it was a rollicking good time. Great crowd, great band, and the ultimate musical genius pounding the keyboard and blowing harp. Why, he even picked up his guitar for a couple of numbers.


*Like a Rolling Stone--it's the song that made me fall in love with Bob Dylan. Has it become a cliche? I would say yes, if Bob didn't refuse to let it become cliche by constantly finding new ways to deliver it to us. Honestly, I don't think I've ever heard a better performance of the song, and several other equally stunned people around us were making similar comments.

Official McBone Rating: 4.0 McBones.

The evening also provided an unexpected delight from Alex's Dayton years--an encounter with old friends Fran and Ralph.


nwb

Rating Bob Dylan's 35 Studio Albums

Bobology. I find it a truly tiresome science. I've always wondered why so many people put so much effort into understanding a person whose most essential quality is his refusal to be defined. Isn't it much more fun to just sit back, listen and enjoy the music without needing to write a dissertation about how a certain line pertains to his second marriage and how this event influenced that song and blah, blah, blah?

That said, I've spent 8 billion hours of my life listening to Dylan, and have naturally formed some strong opinions about his work. Since I know fate of the free world hinges on the following material, I'll waste no more time on introductory blather. My only self-imposed limit is a 15-word-or-fewer description. Ratings are, as always, out of 5 McBones.

Bob Dylan - 3 McBones. Early signs and greenhorn exuberance. Favorite Track: Song to Woody.

The Freewheeling Bob Dylan - 5 McBones. First foray into undiluted genius. FT: A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall.

The Times They Are A-Changin' - 5 McBones. Perfecting his craft with another ten flawless songs. FT: Boots of Spanish Leather.

Another Side of Bob Dylan - 5 McBones. Apt title. First signs of sloughing the folk mantle. FT: My Back Pages.

Bringing it All Back Home - 5 McBones. Starts to piss off his base. FT: Love Minus Zero/No Limit.

Highway 61 Revisited - 5 McBones. Completely alienates his base. Changes music forever. FT: Desolation Row.

Blonde on Blonde - 5 McBones. Sixth straight perfect album. Bitter folkies burn his image in effigy. FT: Memphis Blues Again.

John Wesley Harding - 5 McBones. Spooky and spare. Side A is arguably his finest work. FT: All Along the Watchtower.

Nashville Skyline - 4.5 McBones. Inserts himself into the country discussion. Teams with Johnny Cash. Earth's foundations shake. FT: Girl from the North Country.

Self Portrait - 2 McBones. After 33 years, I'm still not sure what's going on here. Oddly entertaining though. FT: The Mighty Quinn.

New Morning - 3 McBones. Obscure, at times charming, slightly erratic letdown. FT: Three Angels.

Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid - 4.5 McBones. First-rate soundtrack for a first-rate film. FT: Knockin' on Heaven's Door.

Dylan - 0.5 McBones. Though few know it, the expression WTF!? was invented for this album. FT: The Ballad of Ira Hayes.

Planet Waves - 3 McBones. Decent album with The Band. FT: Not sure I have one. Wedding Song maybe?

Blood on the Tracks - 5 McBones. The greatest album ever recorded. End of discussion. FT: If You See Her, Say Hello.

The Basement Tapes - 4 McBones. A boatload of awesome, rambunctious, sometimes incomprehensible songs. FT: Million Dollar Bash.

Desire - 4.5 McBones. Possibly his most underrated work. Sings in Spanish! FT: Oh Sister.

Street-Legal - 4 McBones. Actually his most underrated work. Song Señor not sung in Spanish. FT: Changing of the Guards.

Slow Train Coming - 3 McBones. Burgeoning Jesus freakdom. Answers mystery of how animals were named. FT: Slow Train.

Saved - N/A. Yikes! I'm not saved and not trying get saved, so I don't listen to this much. FT: Hmm. I'll get back to you on that one someday.

Shot of Love - 3.5 McBones. Also Jesus-y, but way underrated. Actually good. Totally forgotten. FT: Every Grain of Sand.

Infidels - 4 McBones. End of the born-again phase, thank God. FT: Jokerman.

Empire Burlesque - 3 McBones. Slightly overrated and synth-y, but his last good album before the plunge into darkness. FT: Dark Eyes.

Knocked out Loaded - 1.5 McBones. Whoa. This is not good. Completely salvaged by the epic and unforgettable...FT: Brownsville Girl.

Down in the Groove - 1.0 McBones. Blech! Sorry, Darin. Double blech! FT: Silvio, by a mile.

Oh Mercy - 4 McBones. Bright ray of light in a truly murky decade. FT: Most of the Time.

Under the Red Sky - 1.0 McBones. Cool title, bad record. Beginning and, happily, end of the Don Was Era. FT: Born in Time, I guess.

Good as I Been to You - 3.5 McBones. Shedding demons with awesome takes on traditional ballads. FT: Arthur McBride.

World Gone Wrong - 4 McBones. Virtuosic folk and blues interpretations. He could make 50 records like this. FT: Delia.

Time out of Mind - 5 McBones. Almost dies. Retaps his genius. Broods on death. FT: Not Dark Yet.

Love and Theft - 5 McBones. The Ulysses of records. Draws from every source imaginable. FT: Mississippi (OK, I know this is a leftover from TOoM, but I regard this as his finest vocal recording, so lay off).

Modern Times - 5 McBones. Possibly his modern masterpiece. FT: Workingman Blues.

Together Through Life - 4.5 McBones. One wonders how long he can keep this up. FT: If You Ever Go to Houston.

Tempest - 5 McBones. Blood-soaked brilliance. Even the ballads are steeped in death.  FT: Tempest.

nwb

Together Through Life, Just Another Classic Dylan Album

What does Bob Dylan mean to me? Glad you asked! As a baby I was fed a steady diet of breast milk and Bob Dylan. While my milk supply was cut off some time ago, I still help myself to almost daily helpings of Bob. I love all Bob Dylan, and I'll be the first to admit the love hasn't always come easy. There have been some pretty shaky albums through the years, and some that are just downright confusing. Still, even on the very worst there is something worth listening to, a hidden gem you may not notice the first time around. Or the second. The reality is that, if Bob Dylan put out a $300, ten-disk instrumental concept album featuring him playing the kazoo, I'd rush to the nearest store. If I didn't have the money, I'd sell a kidney.

As a registered lifetime Bob Dylan Superfan (you get a little laminated card and a secret decoder pin), I feel qualified to set something straight: Bob Dylan is NOT a poet. That is not to say he doesn't write poetry; check out his book of verse, Tarantula, if you want to read a little Dylan. I guess you can call his songs poems, but I lose patience with people who say, well, he's a great poet, as if his prodigious gift for writing lyrics somehow covers up for his other flaws, as if he has achieved his estimable position in music history in spite of himself.

That's a lot of horseshit. Bob Dylan is a musician through and through, a singing, guitar picking, piano playing, harmonica blowing, melody making, all-around musical genius. He is the Beethoven of our time, a master of the total song, not just the lyric. He has influenced folk, rock, country, gospel, R&B, blues and countless other styles. He has been covered by just about everyone. You may want to check it out, because I'm pretty sure your mom has covered a Dylan song.

Together Through Life may not be Dylan's best-written album. As far as songwriting is concerned, I'd rank his previous two albums slightly higher. But like I said, he's not a poet, and there is so much to judge. Like that voice! That band! Those arrangements! Sure he was lost in the wilderness for a while in the 80s, churning out the likes of Down in the Groove and Knocked out Loaded, but for about a decade now he's been making music as good as any. Together Through Life marks his fourth straight masterwork.

Sometime back in the early nineties, after billions of songs sung and cigarettes smoked, Bob Dylan's vocal chords broke down. This was a good thing. Always a great (and I mean great in the sense that Louis Armstrong was a great trumpet player) singer, the newly acquired instrument became something like a cross between a phlegmy cough and a groaning rusty hinge. Leather, rust and grit. The songs sound like they're coming from heaven and hell simultaneously, but mostly from hell (where all the good music comes from anyway). There is simply no other instrument like it on earth, and it is sounding with all its growling and cackling glory on Together Through Life.

I'm not going to go through the songs one by one, but I will say that you won't find a dud on the album. No wasted space, just track after track of genius music. Another gift from a guy who by rights could have called it a day 40 years ago, when his legacy was already secure. He didn't, and the songs keep on coming.

Thanks, Bob!

nwb