Blood on the Tracks

by

Bob Dylan

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What is Bob Dylan's greatest album? Is it Highway 61 Revisited, an album that revolutionized rock and roll by combining the meaningful lyrics of folk with the rhythm of rock; or is it Blonde on Blonde, another mid sixties classic album with some of Dylan's best lyrics, epic songs, and vivid imagery; or is it Blood on the Tracks, a sweet unambitious album about a man's heart during his crumbling marriage? The answer is Blood on the Tracks, a simple but powerful masterpiece that captures the human emotions of love, anger, sadness, fear, regret, and hope. 'Tracks' doesn't take us into the mind of Bob Dylan, as 'Blonde on Blonde'and 'Highway 61' did, they take us inside Bob Dylan's heart, and inside our own. Dylan writes honest, emotional, beautiful lyrics. The album is the story of a man hanging on to his love, and at the same time letting it go. The album is a snapshot of Dylan's soul. The most beautiful song on the album that stands out is the least assuming. In 'Buckets of Rain,' Dylan's looking out into the rain, and reflects on life and love like no one else has ever done, and finally makes peace with his lonliness and longing for his love, moves on, but will always share a part of his heart for her. I could write for days about this album, but I'm sure you get this picture. Never before have I been moved by a piece of music like this album has, because we all know what Dylan is writing about is not only what's in his heart, but what's buried inside all of our hearts.

I read about this being such a great album. The songwriting, the lyrics, etc. etc. So I bought it. The best thing that I can say about it is that it seems to release a soft warm glow, like a coal in a fire. It works well in the background. What I don't like about the album is how most of the characters are these macho types who treat women in the old American stereotypical fashion of "women are weak and therefore need to be protected and sheltered". A lot of the women characters in these folk stories only seem to exist to prop up the male protagonist's macho outlaw ego and to "love him strong". The guy goes to the strip joint and after the show the stripper is right behind him. Whatever. How lame. I can't help remembering the old story (myth?) about Dylan going over to Kerouac's door and Kerouac yells at Dylan and calls him a fake folk singer. Because folk is supposed to be about singing from own heart and this is more about adolescent fantasy.