The Times They Are a Changin’: Bob for the 90’s By Sarah Byker A few weeks ago, I went CD shopping planning on picking up Blood on the Tracks. I’d heard from a friend that Bob Dylan’s new album, Time out of Mind, had received four stars in Rolling Stone. My reply: “well, when you’re Bob Dylan...” Meaning to say that such a positive review for a new Dylan album could only have come out of respect for a legend. After seeing Dylan live, I’ve accepted the facts--Dylan’s day has obviously passed. Most of us who appreciate this man’s raw charm also fully realize our misfortune: we belong to the wrong generation. Or so we thought. Despite my skepticism, I opted for Time out of Mind. The initial attraction of this album is the producer, Daniel Lanois. Best known for his work with U2 (with Brian Eno) and Peter Gabriel, he also conceived Emmylou Harris’ Wrecking Ball and the soundtrack to the motion picture Slingblade. Rolling Stone calls his work “heavily atmospheric.” Or as a certain A? editor said when I told him about Lanois’ involvement in the album, “everything that man touches turns to gold.” Time out of Mind definitely has its share of golden moments. Though a collaboration between Lanois and Dylan seems unlikely, it’s not the first time they’ve worked together. Dylan’s 1989 album Oh Mercy also makes use of the production genius of Lanois. However, to the avid Dylan listener, a warning must go out: this isn’t the “I could care less” sound you’ve come to cherish. This album is more resonant than most of Dylan’s work; it is thick but not overdone. It seems Lanois knew when to leave Dylan alone. “Tight instrumentation” is not a phrase I commonly associate with Bob Dylan, but the depth that comes through with the added layers makes the ambivalence even more penetrating. The opening track, “Love Sick” hits like a plague--this time, the speaker reminds us how we yearn for the disease of love. It has an almost eerie, addictive quality to it, and for good reason. Dylan sings, “I’m sick of love/I wish I’d never met you.” The song deals with the disillusionment of love and whoever that love was lost to. “Love Sick” is an angry song, yet the last lines call us back and the final chords haunt us: “Just don’t know what to do/I’d give anything to be with you.” “Standing in the Doorway” picks up on a similar theme; the narrator can’t forget the one who forgot him. Life ceases to pass by unnoticed and Dylan seems to refer back to the album title with the lines “Yesterday, everything was going too fast/Today it’s moving too slow.” Regardless of his age or the producer of his album, he remains his usual self--enigmatic and misunderstood. He perpetuates his image well in his lyrics; he remains a weathered and exaggerated figure, exposing us to the paradoxes inside. Despite its dismal tone, this album has something for every Dylan fan. The ballad, the blues, the 16-minute story we can’t quite make sense of, and the incredible lyrics sandwiched between crazy images of cigar smoke and listening to Neil Young. And while this album isn’t as raw as the Dylan we thought we knew, I have to confess: it just might sound better. However, there’s a certain nostalgia I associate with my old model tape recorder with the shield broken off, a noisy car on the highway, and a cheap tape of Dylan’s raspy insight interrupted by the wheezing of his raucous harmonica. And perhaps there’s nothing like listening to Blood on the Tracks on vinyl on a rainy night with the lights down low. Then again, maybe it’s just time for a reality check: some of us seem to think we were born too late. Or perhaps we just feel the sentiments expressed on Time out of Mind--older than our years. Whether or not we’re considered old enough to understand his music, we sense a pervasive view of how Bob Dylan should sound. It may be wise to throw a few of those purist folk ideas and “admit that the waters around you have grown.” Time Out of Mind may not be the Dylan you “grew up with,” but it sure hits alarmingly close to home.