Is Bob Dylan overrated?

needs a new pony imo

xp yeah theme time was great

but perhaps a bit of a stretch to release a greatest theme time segments in book form

The Penman piece is an excellent take. “Baggy” is an apt word for the book. I enjoy it as an interesting curiosity, & will take the time to listen to the cuts I don’t know — but the title is surely a put-on as deliberately knowing as Self Portrait. At first blush it seems like the literary equivalent of Tempest: late-period Dylan trying way too hard, while not trying hard enough where it would count.

I’ve really only just dipped into it. Maybe there’s some key buried in there that will unlock the come-on for me, but I don’t have quite enough faith in 2022 Dylan as a Great Artist With Something To Say to search too hard in that haystack.

Whoa whoa whoa… Tempest is amazing!

I got the book as a gift and have read most of it - I started with no expectations and took for what it is: a curiosity, a mood piece, a cranky opinion column, a collection of perspectives.

We don't go to Bob for accurate information or for authoritative answers or for moral guidance or for a coherent philosophy. We go to Bob for... Bobness. The book is decently full of Bobness.

Part "Old Man Yells at Cloud," part "okay, that's a nice glimpse into the perspective of someone who is a major cultural figure (albeit a deliberately idiosyncratic one)."

A little bit of "Oh, huh, I actually didn't know that" about some piece of old rootsy music. Certainly some of the obscurer tracks were worth a listen, though they will probably not become fixtures on my turntable.

I must hand it to Penman: that's an excellent, insightful review, better than any of his LRB efforts.

I think he goes wrong in complaining about the absence of rap from the book -- after all, the book contains almost nothing in any genre after about 1979, yet does go out of its way to mention rappers; there's no sense at all that this genre has been excluded more deliberately than others. It might make more sense to point out the lack of Chic or ABBA, which are closer to Dylan's apparent period.

Good Times. This is the song of the disco man, the rambling dancer. The lights are on, the crowd is hot, and you're on fire. These are the good times. That's what Nile Rodgers says. Bernard Edwards too. Nothing hoochie-coochie about this groove, nothing soulful or born-again. The rhythm is cooking like a hot dog on a spit and you're going to the end of the line.

Does he mention Prince? He seemed to have a thing about him back during the Wilburys...

Crowdfunder for Pinefox Disco Themetime Radio Hour!

I don't think he discusses, in any detail, any record from the last 40 years.

After his time, I guess.

A lot of songs are about family. It's a family affair, said Sly Stone. We Are Family - that's what Sister Sledge want to tell you. They have all their sisters with them. Probably brothers too, but they're not talking about that, it's on the down-low. They fly just like birds of a feather. If you think about it a little, it's a strange thing that their name is Sledge, because there's nothing heavy about these sisters. Sledge would make you think of a sledgehammer, like a strongman might hit to win the prize at an old-time carnival. None of that here. It's a different deal. The dancefloor is shiny with satin. Satin dolls, that's what Billie Holiday called them. She knew a thing or two about those. So did Duke, he wrote the song himself. But satin's better than a sledge, if you're going to the dancehall. You can't change your name, though, so we know them as Debbie, Joni, Kim and Kathi Sledge. Maybe they could have been like David Bowie or Vic Damone and called themselves Debbie Dynamite or Kathi Kreme. Appeal to the payola kings and sugar plum fairy manufacturers. But Sister Sledge didn't want any of that. They are family. All the sisters are here. That's what they want you to understand.

It's all Bobness, and some of it is ridic self-indulgent, long-winded, giving-us-geezers-a-bad-name-joy-of-typing-impulsivity---further spurred by knowing somebody, a lot of somebodies, incl. reviewers, will actually read it all and post comments---which puts him way ahead of most writers, most bloggers for sure, as he must be well aware, given for inst his warm, even excited comments about the World Wide Web in WSJ excerpt I posted above (thanks for directing me to his site for whole thing).
But that's when he doesn't know or care when to stop in working his material, the word-thought-impulse-memory-theme-time-spaciness that could be shared with his art studio and is with his song bodyshop. given the way he audibly and avowedly builds up his songs from others (Confederate Laureate here, public domain tune there, and recently said somewhere that he may seem totally sociable when really he's got "Tumblin' Tumbleweeds" stuck in his head and is absorbed with turning it into something else).
I think it works out fine most of the time, and I tend to mentally edit whatever I'm reading, so my process is ready for his---though yeah, what he makes of "Witchy Woman" is even worse than the song, quite an achievement.
But when he's really on it, I'm fascinated with the way he breadcrumbs me with good or at least tasty points, from one end of a thought-theme-etc. trail to another (not THE other; there's always a felt sense of alt.lines that could be taken/are still branching out, somewhere in the thicket, like those xpost early Twilight Zone and Coronation St. eps he favors). Lots of info, as YMP says, and like I said in my first post upthread about this book, points about Ricky Nelson as "rock & roll ambassador" every week in thos living room sessions with James Burton et all on (the wholesomely surreal, sometimes "pure products of America go crazy" tangents of Dad)(I say; Dylan Ozzie and Harriet. vs. the occasional appearances of Elvis on The Ed Sullivan Show, in between old school magicians, ventriloquists etc, as Dylan points out, so that El and other modern pop stars (down through Beatles and after) are part of this quaint sideshow context. He doesn't spell out the contrast with Ricky's cool-rocking balancing act in context of Ozzie and Harriet's own balance of family sitcom Cold War boomtown suburban values, also every week feat. the wholesomely surreal, sometimes "pure products of America go crazy" tangents of Dad---but he leads me to it, crystallizing my own prev. impressions of the show from digital antenna TV.
Also what he says about bluegrass and metal and the Fugs and xpost "On The Street Where You Live" and "Detriot City" and "Everybody Cryin' Mercy" and "Viva Los Vegas" and "CIA Man" (and the Fugs overall) and "Where or When" and yeah even if you don't care for the text at all, it's worth checking out (especially from the library, as I did) for the art alone.

Yeah these reviews & quotes have pretty well removed any desire to read this, will check out a playlist tho.

The association with the Tarantino book is one I made too although I didn’t have quite the same instant and deep nope reaction as when I saw that one on display

Sorry! I meant to delete first placement of the "whoLesomely surreal" bit after pasting it in after Dylan's mention of The Ed Sullivan Show.

Saw some tweet today that John Wesley Harding came out 55 years ago today. Five albums in at that point! No new info in this, but somehow "55 years since he was at what seemed like a midpoint" blows the mind.

pinefox A+ as usual

Just using it for a playlist should work out OK as well (leaving off "Witchy Woman," I'd say).

pinefox A++!

I feel like ilx could crowdsource a parody version that addresses all the gaps in Bob's musicverse, but done in the same style.

So you're on a tropical island, right? Probably somewhere in the Caribbean or maybe not, maybe the Aegean.

Apparently her name is Rio, you're told. But probably not Dolores del Rio. Dolores del Rio got her start as a silent-film star back in the 20s. Anyway you're a bit sunburned and maybe you've had a few too many rum punches, plus someone keeps offering you good blow.

For some reason you're wearing a lime green suit and you're on the bowsprit of an 80-foot yacht. You hear laughter. The phone rings. Why the fuck is there a phone in the ocean?

A saxophone somewhere far off plays. She don't need to understand.

Now I am remembering this one time I saw a Robyn Hitchcock show where at one point he did a few minutes of some free assocation speaking at the end of which everybody applauded while James Redd was sitting there arms folded sceptically thinking "it's easy if you let it."

xpost i was skimming and thought pinefox was quoting from the book! very bob-like. i paused at "You can't change your name, though", and thought ", said robert zimmerman"

JR+tB, I saw Calvin Johnson in the basement of a community center in Eugene, Oregon, in about 2003. He told a very long, and frankly boring, story about driving to Fargo, North Dakota, because there was a guy who had some flannel shirts that Calvin might be interested in buying. He did this over some sparse acoustic chords for what seemed like 15 minutes. I like him fine but it was dull as fuck.

Heh. There are also plenty instances, some of them on record, maybe starting with Tom Waits, in which the story tops the song it leads into. Have thought about starting a thread about (incl. the reverse effect, amd dull-plus-chords, as YMP describes), but if anybody else wants to go ahead and start it, fine with me.

Heh, YMP, I saw something similar at an annual 4th of July thing a friend and his brother would host, during the amateur hour portion of the event. In this incarnation it was some flamenco chords interspersed into the reading of a Borges story, The South, I think. At the end there was thunderous applause, some geniune no doubt, but a lot because it was finally over.

Also could incl. call-and-response, when the artist onstage responds to audience, like the cry of "Judas!"

wau

I don’t believe you

You’re a lyre!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJeDc0coEnU

Some slightly delayed appreciation here for YMP’s take on RAZ’s take on “Rio.”

I saw an online conversation of Robyn and some music writers: lotsa bonhomie 'til they got to an record which one of them violently objected to:"That's a rock album!" Then he went to a bitter Old ILX-worthy rant. Robyn: "Well...I'll tell him you said that." Everybody else laffed, except the ranter.

What Dylan should have said to the "Judas!" guy.

The descriptions of (and excerpts from) this book make it seem like an extension of the liner notes he wrote for World Gone Wrong in 1994, although those were only a couple of pages in length and the song descriptions were unified by the connection to his own performances on the record. I don't have much interest in Bob free-associating on this or that song in the abstract.

just read that Penman piece and it really is fantastic

one thing that hit reading penman, that's interesting about dylan, maybe the biggest tribute to him, is that we still EXPECT something from him. like when he puts out an album people will talk about it and debate it and analyze it and call it out as genius or total bullshit (or this book, too) but pretty much every other star of his vintage people just seem happy they are still around.

even someone as legendary as paul mccartney, no matter what he releases there seems to be a general sense of "hey good for him, glad he's still kicking"

neil was maybe like that for a while but i don't get the sense (even I, an obsessive fan) is really expecting much at this point, hopefully some good chord changes from crazy horse for him to solo over.

pinefox in at the wire for post of 2022

Yeah, but I don't think even he (one 60s heavy whose new work people still get het up about, as upper mississippi says) really gets a pass, or meant to, altogether: he must know his beloved interweb don't work like that. Stirring the shit and the flames mean he really DOES still matter, beyond the Nobel Prize/gold star for Grandpa's glorious youth,collectible editions etc., or other new work that's considering good but mostly evidence that he's still breathing, as upper also says.

The "Witchy Woman" spree is by far the most offensive(and only unforgivable) thing in there---and---in part because it's the longest, biggest piece of shit. Otherwise, we get some crusty little speed bumps, like the one earning pinefox's first citation:

in a statement about the mistreatment of Native Americans with which I strongly agree, he manages to swipe at other campaigns for civil rights.

he makes an obvious point about the first Bush War (to use Merle Haggard's term) being (to use my term) less bad than the second, because there was so much less of it. (I'm not surprised that he got there from "Masters of War," which is not that far from the Fugs' "Kill For Peace.")

And yes, some of it is incoherent, or hits a wall, runs out of steam and keeps rolling downhill---but so far I think about 70% of the text is worth re-reading and choice x placement of pix is alllll good for all time.

consider[ed] good but mostly evidence that he's still breathing, as upper also says.

pinefox in at the wire for post of 2022

So this is still ILM, not ILB, but here's one last example (following the condensed past of "On The Street Where You Live," upthread) of why the book is worth reading, and I hope some of the following makes it to into a song (along with several other of his excursions):

This comes from listening to Mose Allison's "Everybody Cryin' Mercy":

...You're high-principled, chivalrous...but you don't have to pretend with me. You're the spoofer, the playactor, the two-faced fraud---the stool pigeon, the scandalmonger---the prowler and the rat---the human trafficker and car jacker. Take your pick and be selective and be honest about it. You're the hardliner for fair play and a square deal, just as long as you've got your irons in the fire and enough on your plate. Muckraking, chaos and bedlam, you're a party to it all.
At the same time, you find the lack of justice intolerable and the lack of mercy even more so. It sets you off, and you wonder if it's even possible in this world...You like to praise it and put it on a pedestal, but it has no place in your life as long as you're employed. Whatever your racket, your shit job, whatever your routine task is, you never had it so good, so let's leave justice and mercy to the gods of heaven. Better to go to the local movie theater, be a movie goer, sit in the opera---some wacky farce, some silly bull-crap stage show, or better yet stare at a crack moving down the wall. Think about kindness and benevolence, giving people a second chance.

This song says let's be just and honorable to the point of our natural ability.

Let's not make empty gestures, or expect people to let up on us, let up on us, let's not expect to be pardoned or forgiven. Mercy may be a trap for fools.

I've never heard all that in the song, but I guess I can see how Dylan, listening who knows how many times, in his head, at least, to this cool, cutting, somewhat Didionesque forerunner of his own occasional approach and more consistently that of early, prime Randy Newman, might come to this characterization (more than I've gotten from many whole novels) and possible insight: are there such people!? That would explain a few things, in part.

Re: the song as song, record as record--he often steps back toward the blackboard toward the end of each entry:

The word mercy comes from the same Latin root that the word mercantile or merchant comes from...This song could easily be the skeleton of the monster that is "Ball of Confusion."...But where the Temps sang a frenzied jumble of words exploding from the center of the frey, Mose is the detached observer of a few extremely carefully chosen words, resigned to our foolish foibles but unwilling to let them pass without comment.

at this point I want to say, "Yeah, fuck, Bob Dylan's overrated."

BBC radio 6music just broadcast a 3-hour special on this book and the songs it mentions. I listened to the last 2 hours with the book, flicking around it and reading while hearing. I realised that sometimes the descriptions just follow along the song lyrics, as on Theme Time; rather as if Dylan put the record on and started typing.

The rereading process somewhat reminded me that I enjoyed the earlier entries more than the later.

I also realised that I'd been quite wrong upthread to say that the latest track cited was 1979. Dylan writes about a Warren Zevon record from 2003 - which did actually sound quite good on radio.

...You're high-principled, chivalrous...but you don't have to pretend with me. You're the spoofer, the playactor, the two-faced fraud---the stool pigeon, the scandalmonger---the prowler and the rat---the human trafficker and car jacker. Take your pick and be selective and be honest about it. You're the hardliner for fair play and a square deal, just as long as you've got your irons in the fire and enough on your plate. Muckraking, chaos and bedlam, you're a party to it all.
At the same time, you find the lack of justice intolerable and the lack of mercy even more so. It sets you off, and you wonder if it's even possible in this world...You like to praise it and put it on a pedestal, but it has no place in your life as long as you're employed. Whatever your racket, your shit job, whatever your routine task is, you never had it so good, so let's leave justice and mercy to the gods of heaven. Better to go to the local movie theater, be a movie goer, sit in the opera---some wacky farce, some silly bull-crap stage show, or better yet stare at a crack moving down the wall. Think about kindness and benevolence, giving people a second chance.

This reads to me like someone's fumbling notes toward the first of many drafts of a piece about Tom Waits. And it tells me that I will never, ever read this book.

Is that from the book itself or part of a pinefox pastiche?

Seems to be from the book itself.

man I am really not trying to hear Bob fucking Dylan, who 100% doesn't know shit about Latin, opine about word origins

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhTCa16Bsno

I mean ... this is the same guy who wrote Tarantula. It's not like bullshit prosody is a new thing for him. It's more surprising that Chronicles is as good as it is.

lol I copied this bit of Tarantula from Genius and got the popup box saying "Sign up to start annotating!" Uh, no.

arethacrystal jukebox queen of hymn & him diffused in drunk transfusion wound would heed sweet soundwave crippled & cry salute to oh great particular el dorado reel & ye battered personal god but she cannot she the leader of whom when ye follow, she cannot she has no back she cannot . . . beneath black flowery railroad fans & fig leaf shades & dogs of all nite joes, grow like arches & cures the harmonica battalions of bitter cowards, bones & bygones while what steadier louder the moans & arms of funeral landlord with one passionate kiss rehearse from dusk & climbing into the bushes with some favorite enemy ripping the postage stamps & crazy mailmen & waving all rank & familiar ambition than that itself, is needed to know that mother is not a lady . . . aretha with no goals, eternally single & one step soft of heaven/ let it be understood that she owns this melody along with her emotional diplomats & her earth & her musical secrets

Chronicles aside, this is my favorite bit of Dylan’s writing.