DESIRE

Obviously, fashions have changed since 1975

I just purchased Bob Dylan’s album Desire.

So, am I going to write about a record that’s 20 years old? No. I’m going to write about a record that’s 34 years old. I’ve never been sure why people like to use their ignorance about “older” music as a badge of their youth.

“Uh, that was before my time, tee-hee.”

“Well, the pyramids were before your time, too—but you’ve heard of them, right?”

“The Pyramids? Uh, I’m not sure. Was their lead singer from Egypt?”

Anyway, the sound quality of Desire isn’t that great compared to modern records, but the feel is superior. Modern records tend to use a computer to correct and construct every little nanosecond of sound, resulting in an antiseptic blandness with lots of shine but no soul. Of course, I’m not talking about ALL modern records because I don’t want to sound like a denture-chewing dude in a rocking chair—I’m talking about all that “please-love-me-MTV” crap. In recent memory, bands like The White Stripes, The Hives, and Flogging Molly have created organic-sounding stuff with plenty of heart, and I mean four pumping ventricles. But I’m getting sidetracked.

Desire is full of thoughtful, catchy songs that often feature an international flavor, though I suspect it will take me a few listens to like the ones where Bob is singing along with a girl. I just think the tunes would have a grittier feel if he took the babe out of the mix. Even on the love songs, she’s kind of destructive. I’m sure she has good intentions, but she’s way too sweet and wailing for my taste.

So far my favorite tune is Isis. It’s about a guy who leaves his woman and goes searching for something on the edge of the Earth, but then returns to discover he had it pretty good all along. An age old story that is often true.