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Bob Dylan's latest album Love and Theft, has the dubious distinction of
being released on September 11, 2001. And just as the world before the 11th
seems like a simpler, different place, the music from Love and Theft
sounds completely removed from these times, yet more vital and fresh than
anything else on the charts.
At various moments, Love and Theft brings to mind World War II-era
western swing and Korean-Conflict GI's on leave, blowing off steam at a USO
dance hall. And it's that sense of displacement that sheds light on the world
circa 2001.
It's not the first time the great man has pointed to the future by looking
to the past. Both the Basement Tapes and John Wesley Harding were recorded
at the height of the Vietnam/Flower Power era but sounded more like
artifacts from the Civil War.
But what truly makes Love and Theft sound out of time is the phenomenal
quality of the musicianship and the songwriting. With the top of the charts
clogged with corporate "product", it sadly seems amazing that something
this genuine, something rooted so firmly in the blues, Appalachian folk and
classic country was actually released by a major label.
Much of the record's success stems from the sound of his well-oiled touring
band. The record was produced by Dylan himself (aka Jack Frost) and he
wisely lets the music speak for itself. allowing the natural electricity of
the music to shine through. Guitar lines, courtesy of Dylan, Larry Campbell
and Charlie Sexton fall in and out of place, or wryly comment on a lyric
like "Said Tweedle Dum to Tweedle Dee/'Your presence is obnoxious to me.'"
Continue listening, however, and profoundly understated (or is it
understatedly profound?) lyrics rise to the surface: "Funny, the things you
have the hardest time parting with are the things you need the least." "You
can always come back, but you can't come back all the way" "Every moment of
existence seems like some dirty trick."
It's also Dylan's funniest album in ages. Old time yuks
and Vaudevillian jokes abound, and they're funny not only on their own
terms but because Bob Dylan had the nerve to say them: "I'm sitting on my
watch, so I can be on time," "Politician's got on his joggin' shoes/He must
be runnin' for office, got no time to lose." With more layers than an Anna
Nicole Smith wedding cake, Love and Theft is one of Dylan's most richly
rewarding releases. And another astonishing chapter in popular music's
greatest creative renaissance.
(Note: a special limited edition version features album-style paper
packaging plus a bonus CD with two gems from his massive archive of
unreleased material: a 1961 version of "I Was Young When I Left Home" and
an early demo of the once-again-relevant "The Times They Are A-Changin."
review by Steve Walsh
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©
Figgle 2001-2007