Dylan's Born-Again Music Reviewed

Chapter 7

Slow Train Coming: In 1979 Bob Dylan became a "Born Again." That year he released his first "Christian" album, Slow Train Coming. Like his concerts at that time it was full-on evangelising. He called on the legendary Jerry Wexler, former Atlantic Records vice-president and producer of most of the big R&B stars: Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, Ray Charles, Otis Redding. They decided to record in Alabama for the classic soul era sound. Clinton Heylin's biography of Dylan, Behind the Shades Revisited, quotes Wexler: "Naturally, I wanted to do the album in Muscle Shoals as Bob did but we decided to prep it in LA where Bob lived. That's when I learned what the songs were about: born-again Christians in the old corral...I liked the irony of Bob coming to me the Wandering Jew to get the Jesus feel...I had no idea he was on this born-again Christian trip until he started to evangelize me. I said, Bob, you're dealing with a sixty-two-year-old confirmed Jewish atheist. I'm hopeless. Let's just make an album." Dylan was a fan of a new British band Dire Straits and he recruited guitarist Mark Knopfler to lay down parts for Slow Train Coming. There's a remarkable similarity to Dire Straits on a few songs, like Precious Angel, but if Dylan stole from Knopfler, it was payback for Knopfler's own thievery. Knopfler's parts here are lush flourishes, not upstagey at all, but with enough of the guitarist's personality to add something. Musically Slow Train Coming is not much different from its predecessor, Street Legal (1978), which, though not associated with the Christian phase, tells of the "good shepherd" and of having "been to the mountain" and of a character who "practiced what he preached from the heart." Then again God's hand has always been on Dylan. But Street Legal's forceful, "live" sound is traded in for a tempered, gently bumbling, Southern groove. Man Gave Names to All the Animals has a subtle reggae bounce, particularly in the plucky bass. He treats the lyrics as a religious fable. "He saw an animal that liked to growl Big furry paws and he liked to howl Great big furry back and furry hair Ah, think I'll call it a bear." The last track When He Returns is the standout: just piano and vocal, and the keys are struck down hard, just barely redeemed from sloppiness but bursting with joy and passion. I could credit Dylan with giving the best vocal performance of his career, but the lyrics are so striking that they practically force the singer to deliver them with something resembling fervor. It's absolutely breathtaking, even more so when I think about a man so obsessed with the utility of words reaching into himself, past every wellspring of sarcasm and every bloody vein of finely tweaked anomie, trying to express his awe at God and his anticipation of the divine Judgment: "The iron hand it ain't no match for the iron rod, The strongest wall will crumble and fall to a mighty God. For all those who have eyes and all those who have ears It is only He who can reduce me to tears. Don't you cry and don't you die and don't you burn For like a thief in the night, He'll replace wrong with right When He returns. Truth is an arrow and the gate is narrow that it passes through, He unleashed His power at an unknown hour that no one knew. How long can I listen to the lies of prejudice? How long can I stay drunk on fear out in the wilderness? Can I cast it aside, all this loyalty and this pride? Will I ever learn that there'll be no peace, that the war won't cease Until He returns? Surrender your crown on this blood-stained ground, take off your mask, He sees your deeds, He knows your needs even before you ask. How long can you falsify and deny what is real? How long can you hate yourself for the weakness you conceal? Of every earthly plan that be known to man, He is unconcerned, He's got plans of His own to set up His throne When He returns." In No Direction Home: The Life and Music of Bob Dylan, Robert Shelton writes: "The scoffers felt that Dylan had also abandoned the progressive, tolerant side of Christianity to espouse an uncompromising, unforgiving sort of gospel stance. Later asked if he was concerned about being lumped together with the ultra-right-wing Bible-thumpers, Dylan spoke about reactionary religions as something "to be careful about...it's real dangerous. You can find anything you want in the Bible. You can twist it around and a lot of people do that." On tour to support the album, Dylan was booked at San Francisco's Warfield Theater for a fourteen-night stand. The events of these San Francisco shows are hotly disputed among people who attended, and when a few critical pans subsequently turned up in local papers (the Examiner and the Chronicle), word spread far and wide that audiences were heckling and jeering and storming out of the Warfield in droves. Corr Arnold wrote: "The first born-again shows were at the Warfield in San Francisco in 1979 and the crowd absolutely loathed Dylan. Since he played 14 nights, word got around and lots of people dumped their tickets particularly people who had tix for multiple nights. I saw one of the later nights, and it was Dylan at his most aggressively unlistenable. Bob did another round of shows in 1980, and Bill Graham (his producer/promoter] made him promise that it wasn't going to be "all-religious". Bob sent Bill a rehearsal tape, and there was a series of radio ads with Bill Graham swearing to the people of the Bay Area that he had "personal assurances from Bob Dylan" that he had been rehearsing lots of different songs, while a rehearsal tape of Mr. Tambourine Man played in the background. The first six shows sold out, so Bill added more, eventually going to 15 (remember the Grateful Dead had played 14 nights at the Warfield the month before). At the first show, Bob did a few perfunctory oldies and ground out more religious numbers. The crowds were furious, Bill was furious, and ticket sales for the last 9 nights went into the tank. The BGP organization started bringing in guest stars to pump up ticket sales--Roger McGuinn, Carlos Santana, Mike Bloomfield and Jerry Garcia. Dylan grudgingly did one or two more oldies." Michael Maxwell "saw the 3rd and 8th nights of Bob's 18 day marathon. The third night Dylan was badly abused and booed. The three back-up singers who "tried" to open the show were booed so loudly they couldn't be heard. The first three songs Dylan did could bearly be heard for the booing and he was visibly shaken. A young woman in the third or fourth row on the floor stood between songs ( 4th and 5th as I recall) and shouted " Jesus loves you Bobby and so do I." From that point on he focused on her. I was seated on the front row of the balcony and by the time Dylan took a short break half way through, nearly half the audience had walked out. I don't know how you feel about spiritual things, but that was one time in my life I felt the real presence of evil. The line had been drawn and curses were certainly cast. After the break, Dylan came back with alot smaller audience, but with fire in his eyes! What a second half! Thought you'd like to hear from a disciple that nearly saw another crucifixion!" By Scott Marshall.

City of Gold

There is a City of Gold, Far from the rat race that eats at your soul. Far from the madness and the bars that hold, There is a City of Gold. There is a City of Light, Raised up in the heavens and the streets are bright. Glory to God not by deeds or by might, There is a City of Light. There is a City of Love, Surrounded by stars and the powers above. Far from this world and the stuff dreams are made of, There is a City of Love. There is a City of Grace, You drink holy water in sanctified space. No one is farid to show their face, There is a City of Grace. There is a City of Peace, Where all foul forms of destruction cease. Where the mighty have fallen and there are no police. There is a City of Peace. There is a City of Hope, Above the ravine on the green sunlit slope. All I need is an axe and a rope, There is a City of Hope. I'm heading for the City of Gold, Before it's too late before it gets too cold. Before I'm too tired before I'm too old. There is a City of Gold.

Saved

"When destruction cometh swiftly And there's no time to say a fare-thee-well, Have you decided whether you want to be In heaven or in hell? Are you ready, are you ready? Have you got some unfinished business? Is there something holding you back? Are you thinking for yourself Or are you following the pack? Are you ready, hope you're ready. Are you ready? Are you ready for the judgment? Are you ready for that terrible swift sword? Are you ready for Armageddon? Are you ready for the day of the Lord?" Released in 1980, Saved is hardcore gospel, unapologetically religious record, it's as dogmatic as they come, Jesus-fearing, a prediction of the apocalypse. The music is warm and inviting gospel-rock sung with conviction, particularly his reworking of the gospel standard A Satisfied Mind featuring his female backup singers intonating a soulful "mmmmm" underneath his melody. But whereas Dylan's lyrics on Slow Train Coming used scripture as inspiration for his own poetry, Saved only preaches. Bert Cartwright in his book The Bible in the Lyrics of Bob Dylan wrote: "In contrast to composing songs in a folk culture with natural allusions to the Bible, or more sophisticated songs with literary allusions to the Bible, here Dylan composes songs in which the Bible is constantly alluded to as the essence of the believer's faith." Another example of the garden-variety born-again cliches that this otherwise original and shrewd songwriter fell victim to on Saved: "Pulled me out of bondage and You made me renewed inside, Filled up a hunger that had always been denied, Opened up a door no man can shut and You opened it up so wide And You've chosen me to be among the few. What can I do for You?" Saved is unmistakeably a Dylan record: Covenant Woman is a classic 70s/80s minor-key Dylan melody, recalling Jokerman and Baby Stop Crying), but the lyrics lead me to believe that Dylan was making a concerted effort to be the conduit for the holy word instead of the author of its interpretation. His Christian study at the Vineyard required him to abandon a lifetime full of smartass attitude and know-it-all-ism, traits to this day practically synonymous with Bob Dylan. He must have considered it a great challenge. "Being born again is a hard thing...We don't like to lose those old attitudes and hang-ups. Conversion takes time because you have to learn to crawl before you can walk. You have to learn to drink milk before you can eat meat. You're reborn, but like a baby. A baby doesn't know anything about this world, and that's what it's like when you're reborn. You're a stranger. You have to learn all over again." Overall, it's not disastrous, just a little cleaner than a good R&B/gospel record should sound, and there's something keeping it from fully coming alive, but it does have a few great moments, like the percussive, shouty, piano-driven Solid Rock and the stirring organ swells and verse-by-verse crescendos of Pressing On. It takes a few listens, some getting-used-to, to hear the beauty of Saved's most powerful tracks. In the Garden is quiet and humble, but its odd, incremental chord modulations give it a compelling strength it might not have with a simpler arrangement. Conversely, Saving Grace, which has the potential to bring the house down, never does, wasting a fine Dylan vocal with a rather conservative arrangement. I see the word "embarrassing" pop up in allusions to this phase of Dylan's discography, and despite some cringeworthy religious dogma, there's nothing on Saved that makes me feel pity for myself, Dylan, or anyone who buys, downloads, or borrows Dylan records. I don't revisit Saved often, but it feels less problematic with every listen.

Property of Jesus

Go ahead and talk about him Because he makes you doubt, Because he has denied himself The things that you can't live without, Laugh at him behind his back Just like the others do, Remind him of what he used to be When he comes walkin' through. He's the property of Jesus, Resent him to the bone, You got something better, You got a heart of stone. Stop your conversation When he passes on the street, Hope he falls upon himself Oh won't that be sweet, Because he can't be exploited By superstition anymore, Because he can't be bribed or bought By the things that you adore. When the whip that's keeping you in line Doesn't make him jump, Say he's hard-of-hearin' Say that he's a chump. Say he's out of step with reality As you try to test his nerve, Because he doesn't pay no tribute To the king that you serve. Say he's a loser 'Cause he got no common sense Because he don't increase his worth At someone else' expence. Because he's not afraid of trying 'Cause he don't look at you and smile 'Cause he doesn't tell you jokes or fairy tales Say he's got no style. You laugh at salvation, Yu can play Olympic games, You think that when you rest You'll go back from where you came But you've picked up quite a story And you've changed since the womb, What happened to the real you, You've been captured but by whom?

Shot of Love

After committing what many considered to be career suicide with Saved, the following year Dylan delivered Shot of Love to a label that had begun to treat the singer as persona non grata. In Behind the Shades Revisited, Tony Wright (who designed the cover art for Saved) recalls: "They were so rude, so nasty about Bob Dylan and said how they weren't gonna promote another gospel record...I was just astonished to hear these people high-up people at CBS talking about this man as if he were just someone...a curse him kind of attitude." The third and final album of Bob Dylan's extrovertedly Christian period, Shot of Love seems to capitulate a little to the skeptical fans, critics, and label people. Its biblical themes are still present, most notably, the liner notes begin with a quote from Matthew 11:25, and there's nothing subtle about the message of Property of Jesus, but they're mostly cloaked in secular language and rock arrangements. Indeed, Shot of Love is a more personal album than its two predecessors; the evangelical nature of Slow Train Coming and Saved revealed Dylan's desire to be "born again" and approach his material as a naive, innocent messenger rather than a songwriter. However Dylan deeply resented his detractors: "Hmmm. Pretty rude bunch tonight, huh? You all know how to be real rude. You know about the spirit of the Anti-Christ? Does anyone here know about that? Ah, the spirit of the Anti-Christ is loose right now...You talk to your teachers about what I said. I'm sure you're paying a lot of money for your education, so you'd better get one." His bitterness rears its head on Property of Jesus: "Go ahead and talk about him because he makes you doubt Because he has denied himself the things that you can't live without Laugh at him behind his back just like the others do Remind him of what he used to be when he comes walkin' through He's the property of Jesus Resent him to the bone You got something better You've got a heart of stone." And Dead Man Dead Man: "Satan got you by the heel There's a bird's nest in your hair Do you have any faith at all? Do you have any love to share? The way that you hold your head, cursin' God with every move Ooh, I can't stand it I can't stand it What are you tryin' to prove?...The glamour and the bright lights and the politics of sin The ghetto that you build for me is the one you end up in The race of the engine that overrules your heart Ooh, I can't stand it I can't stand it Pretending that you're so smart." These lyrics are certainly defensive, but they're from the heart and their sense of "I call bullshit here" is just as keen as it was on Ballad of a Thin Man and Masters of War. When Dylan sang "Oh my God, am I here all alone?" in 1965, I was right there with him, empathizing all the way. But with Dead Man Dead Man, I can't bring myself to share in his religious devotion, although his disappointment in mankind and all its post-Enlightenment smugness is something I can relate to. It's a 1981 album but Dylan's musical arrangements on Shot of Love are very 70s. Dylan worked with Springsteen co-producer Chuck Plotkin, although Dylan was the primary shot-caller on the sessions, rejecting several Plotkin mixes in favor of the rough monitor mixes. Shot of Love's sound is pretty engaging: Trouble benefits from Benmont Tench's thick, Kooperesque organ and the presence of four gospel-tinged backup singers (vocalist Clydie King, also a devout Christian, was Dylan's girlfriend at this time, and she shares singing duties with him on quite a few Shot of Love tracks). The opening and title track Shot of Love features King harmonizing along with every note. It's one of the album's most immediately potent songs. It recalls American gospel and blues, but with its dirty guitar sound and slinky groove, it could easily be an outtake from the Rolling Stones' Let It Bleed. Heart of Mine, meanwhile, would feel right at home on Dylan's own Desire (1975).Its reggae-country lilt and duetted vocals remind me of his not always successful but usually beautiful collaborations with Emmylou Harris on that record. Dylan's mid-to-late 70s and early 80s music gave us some of the singer's best vocal performances. Since the beginning, his voice has been a point of contention among those who either love or hate him, and on Shot of Love he uses his famous nasality to great effect. His voice during this period was deeper and fuller than his signature 60s style, but not quite as weirdly affected and drug-damaged as it was on Nashville Skyline, and not anywhere near as fried and wheedly as it would become in the 90s. His phrasing on Shot of Love, particularly on ballads like Lenny Bruce, is that of a sensitive-eared musician, a comedian (even in his darkest moments), and an old-school songwriter who knows that the singer's delivery is as crucial as the chicken scratch on the lyric sheet. These songs were written to be sung, and although reviews and essays tend to focus on Dylan's lyrics, it bears mentioning that his skills as a songwriter include his ability to make those lyrics into phrases and melodies that have lives of their own. Shot of Love has been called one of the worst albums of Dylan's long career. It was savaged by Nick Kent in NME and by Paul Nelson in Rolling Stone. Nelson wrote about people's propensity for giving any new Dylan work "the benefit of the doubt" and said "No more. For me it stops right here." Admittedly, it's a new addition to my collection, but it's fast becoming one of my favorite Dylan works: it's no Blood on the Tracks, but thankfully it's also no Empire Burlesque or Self-Portrait. I recommend it without caveats, without irony, and I hold it up as an example of why an artist's most universally maligned work is not necessarily his worst. Source: southsidecallbox.com/christian_dylan.html