I was only 18 years old when I saw a legend fewer than 100 feet in front of my face.
The one and only folk icon, Bob Dylan, was taking the stage and had barely muttered his first breath before the girl next to me shrieked and swooned. Barely audible over the frenzy of ecstasy surrounding me, the then 67-year-old Dylan croaked and sputtered into the microphone, and I couldn’t help but think, “If only I had seen this 40 years ago.”
Before all you Dylan fanatics chastise my disappointment, let me just say that by no means did this past experience diminish my respect and admiration for who has been and always will be one of my all-time favorite artists. Just like everyone else in that crowd, I was honored to be breathing the same air as this rock ‘n’ roll deity.
Nonetheless, that night was a harsh reminder of the toll that time takes on everyone. Dylan is mortal just like the rest of us. His legacy — 50 years of politically and emotionally charged music and poetry — will remain in our society long after Dylan is gone. That is what was celebrated that night.
Fast forward about five years. Dylan’s latest album, “Tempest,” was released Sept. 10, and outside of listening to a man who has smoked far too many cigarettes, I wasn’t sure what to expect when I pressed play.
One critic from The Daily Telegraph called the album “among his best ever.”
Whoa, there. That’s a pretty bold statement.
Others have said that it’s Dylan’s best work this century.
That sits a little better with me.
One thing was made clear to me after hearing the tracks from “Tempest”: Dylan’s lyrical prowess has not faded. He remains a master storyteller, able to evoke emotions through the actions of his subjects. It’s a simple fundamental of good writing: show, don’t tell. He uses simple rhyme patterns and plain language. That’s what has made Dylan’s music so engaging for so many years.
The album’s title track is a 14-minute epic describing the sinking of the Titanic. The narrative provides glimpses into the experience of various people in the midst of the chaos. “Jim Dandy smiled/He never learned to swim/Saw the little crippled child/And he gave his seat to him.” The verse is a powerful image that depicts compassion and sacrifice, but Dylan never tells you what to feel.
It’s the same kind of force that I felt when I first heard lines like “I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’” or “I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,” from Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall,” a track that consists of a series of apocalyptic images that express Dylan’s frustration with society.
Even though Dylan’s contemporary lyrics lack the political anger that counter-culture protesters lived by in the ’60s, his poetry is just as effective at illustrating profound emotions: love, hate, unity, isolation, passion, addiction, faith or despair.
Like the subject of its title track, the tracks from “Tempest” are generally dark, and examine sentiments such as depression, revenge, guilt and loss of life. “Roll On John” is a tribute to John Lennon, Dylan’s late friend. “Tin Angel” tells a tragic story about lost love.
Similarly, most of the album’s instrumentals are slow tempo, but are varied enough to keep listeners interested. Some have a blues flavor; others are a bit more lively but retain the anguish that pervades the entire record.
So, will Dylan fans like “Tempest?” You bet. It’s Bob Dylan, after all. For all those fans who were born too late to see a live Dylan in his prime, I feel your pain. No matter how often I listen to “Like a Rolling Stone” or “The Times They are a-Changin’,” I can’t forget that night in 2008 when I could only identify my favorite songs from the guitar’s melody.
But no matter how unfortunate his vocal performances have become in this century, I will always be thankful that Dylan continues to produce music and perform it on tour. He has never been known to have the voice of an angel, anyway.