Record #63: Bob Dylan – Shot of Love (1981)

I have played this record only once besides this listen, and it was the day I got it, after which it was quickly shelved. I remember it being pretty terrible, but I don’t exactly remember why. I’m being reminded a little bit now, though. While it maintains largely the same format as Saved, the arrangements, which were so subtle on Slow Train Coming and so masterfully executed on Saved, are sloppy in comparison. This backing band lacks both the control and the exuberance of the groups that accompanied Dylan on his last two outings. It crosses the line into hokey territory quite often, and it doesn’t help the songwriting.

And the songwriting needs some of that help it’s missing. Dylan’s focus is more oppositional here, adopting an us vs. the world approach that gives Christian music such a bad rap. The album also suffers from a lack of focus. Where Saved excelled for its singularity of subject, this album is scattershot, going from the sarcastic Property of Jesus to the posthumous ode Lenny Bruce to the confrontational Watered-Down Love in juxtaposition. It lends neither to flow or cohesion. The album also lacks the “me and You”  narration of the first two parts of his Gospel Trilogy, using instead a fingerpointing “you, you, you.” And while Dylan has pointed thousands of fingers in his day, having the Lord on his side changes the tone significantly. It’s on Shot of Love that the criticisms of dogmatism and wrath that were thrust at Slow Train Coming actually come true. It’s offputting for nonchristians, and if my own reaction is any indicator, embarrassing for several Christians.

The closer, Every Grain of Sand, sticks out like a sore thumb with delicate handling from the band and a humble lyricism from its writer. An airy organ, a lightly picked electric guitar, a softly cooing gospel choir, and Dylan’s famed harmonica aid the tender hymn to solace in getting its point across. It’s a fitting addition to Dylan’s catalogue, closing an album that is decidedly not.