Bob Dylan's Modern Times

Walked into a music store recently (not one of the mall music stores, with the fake neon [how could you get more fake than neon?] and the plastic holders for the CD's and the glossy displays asking me to purchase the last four seasons of 24) - no sirree bob I'm talking about a used music store, the kind run by some tall decrepit geek who vaguely resembles John Kerry and still knows who the Beatles were and what they accomplished for music

but enough of that! Suffice it to say that I went in there, looking for the only good Doobie Brothers albums ever made (What Once Were Vices Now Are Habits and The Captain and Me) and there was this music playing over the loudspeakers and it felt like the best pair of old leather boots, in the most comfortable mansion you've ever been in, in the most secluded mountain range with the most relaxing view -

actually, that's a lie. This music made you feel like you were in some dingy bar on the side of the road about halfway between nowhere and the last town you'd eve want to be in, and I instinctively knew the raspy, smokey voice coming over the sad tawny music and it was a voice that we've all grown up with - the voice of several generations - (the best description of which was "a voice like a broken, bumpy sidewalk leading straight outta town") -

yes, it was Bob Dylan, and the album playing was his recent Modern Times.

It was good music - fantastic music. However, there's no way to build up to my final statement of this post the way I'd like (and I would like a build-up because my point deserves it), and I admit that in this culture we are not supposed to say anything bad about Dylan, that's simply

not

done.

And I know that if I do, then there will be many many thousands of Dylan fans beating me over the head for saying this, so I might as well just get it over with . . .

as I was looking for the CD's and listening to this album I could only think of one phrase that summed it all up:

In the old days, Dylan could write fantastic songs, but he could not make music. These days, he can make fantastic music, but he can no longer write songs.

(If you dissect the phrase, truly, especially while listening to Modern Times, you will understand.)


VG