Better Late Than Never

As most of you know, music is what moves me, what drives me, what guides me. The array of different styles and artists in my collection is quite confounding, even to me. Many have accused me of outright snobbery, which is an onus that I stubbornly pride myself in. And I’ve dutifully carried the torch of my favorite underappreciated songwriters (at least in terms of mass adulation) such as Paul Westerberg, Aimee Mann, Neil Finn, Todd Rundgren, Steve Earle and others. And while I still admire many major artists, one such songwriter has slipped under my radar: Bob Dylan. Yes, I’ve always respected his talent and contribution to music. He’s written some of the greatest songs of all time. The problem is that I’ve mostly enjoyed other artists’ versions of his songs more than his - everything from Hendrix’s masterful performance of “All Along The Watchtower" to Rod Stewarts poppy interpretation of “Forever Young”. Also, the sound and delivery of one’s voice is important to the final product, and Dylan’s nasally delivery and harmonica drone have usually been a turnoff to me.

But recently I’ve gained a new perspective and appreciation for his music, particularly his early work. And much of this is due to the brilliant Scorsese documentary, No Direction Home, which I watched over the past several days. I’ve been immersing myself in Dylan’s recorded material of the 60’s and 70’s and have gained immense insight that I had never paid attention to. For one thing, his style of songwriting is different than what I’ve become accustomed to. Being so heavily influenced by folk and blues music, his songs tend to be structured linearly with no clear beginning, middle or end. Many of his songs are straight verses (with the occasional chorus) that can seem to go on for 10 minutes. That’s because few of his songs have the “middle 8” section that most listeners of popular music are so acclimated (albeit often unconsciously) to hearing. In fact, out of all the albums I’ve been listening to lately, I finally heard my first Dylan middle 8 on “Going Going Gone” off 1974’s Planet Waves album. Traditionally, I’ve always been more into the sound and melody of a song rather than the lyrical content. That’s not to say that lyrics aren’t important to me – it’s just that my ear picks out things differently than most people. Hell, I couldn’t tell you what most of my favorite songs are even about. After all, my favorite band is R.E.M., and most of the time I don’t know what the fuck Michael Stipe is writing/singing about.

So I’m 38 years-old and I’ve just now “discovered” Bob Dylan. How freaking weird that makes me feel. But, as the title says, better late than never. Like my immersion into jazz, I’ve had to re-train myself how to listen to a particular style of music, which is probably why it sounds so fresh to my ears. Since I can’t stand the sound of most “new” music based on current production techniques, I’m enjoying my re-discovery of older styles and artists. Unfortunately for my wallet and my time, that’s the way I’ve always been – constantly seeking new and different types of music to invade my soul. I have a lot of friends who still listen to the same stuff they listened to in high school and college, never buying or listening to anything different or new. While I’ll always sweep the dust off the old favorites, I can’t go that route. Hence the now 101 GB of music on my hard drive. No Direction Home indeed.