Rough and Rowdy Ways is bold and
satisfying. Better, by my estimation than the last three albums of original
material, Tempest, Together Through Life and Modern Times. Although these were all great
albums, they didn’t push the limits and defy expectations the way Time Out of Mind and “Love and Theft” did. Rough and Rowdy Ways does push the limits in that way. It carves new territory lyrically and stylistically,
and redeploys the bag of tricks that Bob has been working with since his
re-invention at the end of the last millennium in interesting ways. One
of the ways that this album defies expectations is by existing. I wasn’t sure
if he had it in him, and I am pleasantly surprised. The album opener, I Contain Multitudes, perfectly sets the
scene for an album that contains just that. As the song says, “Everything’s
flowing all at the same time”, tying in many of the themes that Bob has been
developing in his output of the last two decades: religion, violence,
mortality, the bright and dark spots of American history. Just like in the song
My Own Version of You, he is mixing in
his cauldron all of these distinct strains that he has been developing and
crafting over the years to produce a unique brew. Sonically
this is also the case, with various songs sounding like they could fit in on
each of his last 5 albums of original songs. Crossing the Rubicon – Time
Out of Mind; I’ve Made Up My Mind to
Give Myself to You - Modern Times;
False Prophets – Together Through Life; Goodbye
Jimmy Reed – Tempest; I contain Multitudes – Shadows in The Night. In this sense, the
album is like a bookend, a swan song that summarises and ties together material
from this whole era, but hopefully it can also be the first in a new trilogy.
Religious themes
dominate more so than on any album since his Christian phase (and his Christmas
album of course), in particular on the song Goodbye
Jimmy Reed, which opens with a setting on a street named after a saint
“where the Jews and the Catholics and the Muslims all pray”. Although the protagonist
seems to have a bone to pick with Protestants for some reason. Many of the
characters in his songs come across as god fearing men, such as the lead in My Own Version of You who talks about “the
immortal spirit” that “creeps in your body the day you are born”. If these
characters are meant to be anti-heroes, which often seems the case as they
threaten to make your wife a widow, stick a knife between your ribs or hack off
your arm with a sword, this could be seen as an attack on shallow proclamations
of religiosity, or an attack on religion itself, which fails to alter the true
nature of man. In the song, our
protagonist makes an attack on Karl Marx and Sigmond Freud, who are “some of
the best known enemies of mankind” and are being subjected to the “rawhide lash
to rip the skin from their backs”. It is unclear whether the one strike of
lighting and the blast of electricity that he requires to bring his
Frankenstein to life can be seen through a Judeo-Christian lens, but something
tells me this character has a dark side to him that he has chimerized with some
pseudo-spiritual symbolism out of his desperate and doomed efforts to achieve
immortality. The fact that his characters are multi-faceted and subject to boundless
interpretation causes them to pulse with life like a painting by a great cubist
master. They draw you in, but they also secrete enough venom to keep you at a
distance.
I have discussed
my feelings about Dylan’s religiosity in previous posts. Although he has always
included biblical themes and mythology in his songs, this alone does not attest
to the nature of his religious faith, and while many seem to conclude based on
various shreds of lyrics that he is still religious at root, I believe it is an
open question whether he has recovered from his Christian period or if he, on
some level, is still a ‘believer’. I like the fact that this is an open
question, because it creates tension that can potentially come to resolution, although
unlikely as the man prefers to keep an air of mystery, which can only further
bolster his legendary status and his legacy. Of course his songs are generally
sung from the perspective of varied protagonists, and although some
autobiographical elements are present, it is impossible to separate them out
from the fictional characters, who are liable to have varied takes on the
natural and the supernatural world. It is also plausible that all the various shards
represent some aspect of the character of the artist. Regardless, the opacity is
intentional, as it spurs continued speculation, conversation, analysis and
interest.
The songs on
this album are long and develop slowly, giving them breadth and depth. They are
simultaneously open ended, offering kaleidoscopic angles of interpretation,
while also being blunt and definitive. Whatever a given song maintains, it also
maintains its opposite. Wisdom and wickedness; Grandiosity and the mundane;
Beauty and death; Love and resentment; The mysterious and the obvious; The sacred
and the real. Multitudes indeed. Just like My
Own Version of You, which is literally a song about Frankenstein, the songs
are themselves Frankenstein’s, where contradictory or diametric opposites are
stitched together and the resulting fusions are left to their own fate, for
better or worse. In Key West he
practically acknowledges this: “I play both sides against the middle”. As
mentioned above, this contributes to the power, tension and mystery of these
songs, and their ability to spur endless analysis. By tying conflicting threads
together in the same song he effectively confounds interpretation from all
angles and simulates some of the mental conflicts and cognitive dissonance that
many of us are, or should be dealing with in this modern and troubling time.
Similarly to how
he assembles the body parts of a lost love, Dylan has concocted a Frankenstein
of his previous styles, voices, production techniques and lyrical turns. Most
clearly, he is putting into action some of the things he learned during the
recording of the Sinatra trilogy. A holistic technique of microphone placement was
used on these albums to capture a very intimate live feel, and this feel is
evident on many of the songs on this album. Also, his voice sounds really delicate
and near, just like it did on those cover albums. This comes through best on
the track I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give
Myself to You. At times his vocal comes through like a whispered yell, his
vocal chords right on the edge and close to snapping, with just a little bit of
gravel for effect. This approach helps to propel the yearning and tenderness
invoked by the lyrics and the musical accompaniment. On Rubicon and Jimmy Reed
his vocal sounds like vintage Bob from the Time out of Mind period, which is my
favourite period for his voice. It sounds like they used a similar swampy reverb
effect that was used to great effect on songs like Love Sick and Dirt Road Blues.
In My Own Version of You and Rubicon he uses a vocal delivery
technique that he often employs live, which at first seemed hokey, but now I
must admit is endearing to me, especially when employed tastefully (and not
overdone). It’s a weird effect where he spits out the lyrics in a pulsing and
heaving manner, an approach that perhaps borrows from the harmonica.
Lyrically Rough and Rowdy Ways is complex, which means
these songs will open up like a nice bottle of red wine or whisky. The
experience of decoding and dissecting Dylan’s masterful lyrics is a process
that requires multiple listens, with each one you are drawn deeper into the
songs and the characters. This was the process that I enjoyed so much on what I
consider to be his best album, “Love and Theft”.
Some of the lyrical turns in the song Crossing
the Rubicon grab you and viscerally pull you across the rubicon; “I turned
the key and broke it off.. and crossed the rubicon”. The first time I listened
to the song I thought I heard the key breaking off. The album contains some
truly provocative and unexpected lyrics, not the least of which is this line
from the final verse of the song Black Rider:
“Black rider, black rider, hold it right there, the size of your cock will get
you nowhere”. To me it sounds like he says “cockle”, as in cockles and muscles
(?). Or maybe he is meaning to refer to the protagonist having been cuckolded, which also happens in the song. But this is clarified by the official lyrics. So far, exactly what those lines
imply in the context of the song eludes me. Following after the darkness/starkness
of Rubicon, Key West feels like you’ve reached an oasis after traversing a
barren wasteland. After a while Key West feels
like a desert itself, as Dylan reminds us that retiring to a beautiful paradise
is itself a kind of curse. Although I appreciated the importance of the album
closer, Murder Most Foul, right away,
it took a while for the song to really get under my skin, and now it brings me
nearly to tears.
At this stage in his career, to produce an album that sounds this beautiful, and is fresh and unique and just as challenging as any of his previous output, is a great accomplishment. Having reached
such an advanced level in his song writing and recording craft, having
perfected his recipe such, it will be painful for the myriad of fans to
eventually lose the thread, as is inevitable. However, Bob has always been full
of surprises and I trust that he has left us more gems that will be unearthed
and exposed even posthumously. Maybe one day we’ll be watching a hologram of
Bob on stage in Vegas, or at the Dylan archives in Tulsa.
