Bob Dylan: 'Tempest'

At this late stage in his never-ending career, any new material by Bob Dylan is met with baited breath and crossed fingers by some and, probably, total indifference by the rest.  For those who actually care, the obvious questions this time might include:

• Will this one maintain the supposed run of form he’s been enjoying in his later years?

• Has he got his writing head on or is he satisfied to just rhyme lazy couplets?

• Has he still got that brilliant band behind him?

• Can he still express any recognisable human emotion with his wreck of a voice?

• Given the debate over the suggestive title, is this a conscious swan song or is that all just a marketing ploy?

• Did the intern spend his whole lunch break doing the lazy artwork and can I do the graphics next time?

Bob Wisely Elects to Stand In Front Of The Artwork

My first impression is that, yes, this is at least consistent with the last four, (possibly five), original albums, (I’m overlooking ‘Christmas In The Heart’ here as a charitable novelty release).  One might even regard it, in parts, as a companion piece to ‘Time Out Of Mind’ and it does share some of that album’s dark meditations on the aging process.  15 years ago that felt like Dylan’s first expressed intimation of his own mortality (through old age as opposed to rock & roll gun slinging), and there’s no point pretending it’s not dark now.

‘Tempest’ still draws from an extensive catalogue of musical tradition but this time more as a vehicle to get things off his chest than as part of a heritage industry.  In the wake of his “Theme Time Radio Hour’ satellite broadcasts, recent recordings have sometimes descended into vintage styling for nostalgia’s sake.  The opening two cuts here indicate more of the same but this album soon takes a different turn and when the fiddle blues of ‘Narrow Way’ kicks in, Dylan’s striding purposefully down his personal highway, just like you’d want.

Elderly Man, Fast Car & At Least Six Pretty Good Songs

It seems the real meat of the matter is in the 6 tracks occupying the middle section.  Here, Dylan appears to really have things to say and it’s the sense of genuine conviction that marks the album out from the last few.  Of late, we’ve sensed Bob rocking on his porch and casting his mind back over the years but here the ornery old curmudgeon often seems to be out of his seat and keen to straighten a few folks out.  ‘Pay in Blood’, displays plenty of that harsh, Old Testament justice, in response to human failings or personal slights, which has haunted his lyrics right from the start and violent retribution looms large in many of these lyrics.  ‘Tin Angel’ is a lengthy murder ballad of doomed love, not unlike ‘Rosemary, Lily & The Jack Of Hearts’ from ‘Blood On The Tracks’.  In other places there are hints of the existential melodrama that characterise the best bits of ‘Street Legal’ and a title like ‘Early Roman Kings’ could easily come from that record.  The implied threat of many of these lyrics goes along with a startling misogyny and sexual explicitness that appears sensationalist.  It becomes important to recognise the occasional moments of tenderness that also occur.

Much is being made of the epic title track, recounting the sinking of the Titanic over nearly 14 minutes and 45 short verses, but for me it’s the weakest thing here.  This certainly isn’t ‘Desolation Row’ in its drug-fuelled Beat poetry magnificence, just because that earlier song referenced the doomed ship, and lacks the surreal drama of ‘Black Diamond Bay’ or the satire of ‘Talkin’, Bear Mountain Picnic Massacre Blues’.  The traditional sounding Irish refrain framing this lyric is trite and can’t support the song’s sagging edifice.  Dylan’s only slightly eccentric account of the events lacks the dark drama the subject demands and sounds more like a song about the mainstream film of the disaster.

Leonardo Di Caprio & Kate Winslett, 'Titanic', Dir. James Cameron, 1997

This band, led by David Hildago, is amongst the best Dylan’s had, (some achievement).  They can swing like maniacs and are tight but never clinical.  You could argue they’re wasted on these simplistic, repetitious song structures but that’s always been Dylan’s modus operandi really.  There are some excellent spacious arrangements with great use of accordion, violin, banjo and loads of light-touch snare drumming.  Dylan has plenty of room to stretch out and the clever production pushes his vocals to the forefront.  If that voice is no longer a viable tool live, he generally overcomes its limitations on this recording.  He can still get a little urgency into his gargling and demonstrates he’s not lost his real talent for properly risky phrasing.

Dylan And His Band Emphasise The Importance Of A Good Hat, Yet Again 

Who knows if this will be Dylan’s last original album?  I doubt if Bob does.  He appears to have always acted on instinct rather than by calculated strategy and has the luxury of doing pretty much what he wants while his stamina lasts, I guess.  If this were the last, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go out and it would have been an anti-climax to sign out with a collection of carols and cheesy Christmas songs.  Actually, there’s enough here to leave me wondering what the next one might sound like.