If the film I’m Not There says anything at all, it’s that Bob Dylan is a man who is constantly wrestling with his identity. Freewheelin’ showed a Dylan who, despite his numerous social concerns and accusations, wasn’t jaded by them, and faced the terrors of life with a wry smirk and a girl on his arm. But three of the thirteen songs in particular were lifted from the lucid post-apocalyptic improvisations and ballads to badge Dylan as the spokesman of the anti-war/civil rights/anti-establishment movement. And as reluctantly as history tells Bob Dylan accepting that role, it’s often neglected that he wrote an entire album that fully embraced the role of Protest Singer Laureate.
Author: Nathaniel FitzGerald
Record #51: Bob Dylan – The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan (1963)
There’s very, very little I can say about this record that hasn’t already been said. As a twenty-five year old, I can speak very little to the importance of when Bob Dylan emerged from the New York’s Greenwich Village and hit the national (worldwide?) stage, bringing folk music into the popular music sphere. This album in particular is iconic in every sense, from the oft-imitated album cover to the legends that occupy the tracklist–A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall, Masters of War, Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright, and Blowin’ In The Wind, arguably Dylan’s most famous song (but you don’t need me to tell you that). It was a landmark both musically and politically, rocketing Dylan into his reluctant role of Spokesman of a Generation.
Record #50: Blind Pilot – We Are The Tide, 2011
3 Rounds and a Sound found success in its straightforward simplicity and personally nostalgic lyrics. Its follow up, We Are The Tide, starts with an organ and drumbeat, with an anthem of universal hope sung over it. Banjos, guitars, marimbas, and background singers join in slowly, ending in a heavily produced a cappella segment. Not even a single track in, and Blind Pilot has already alienated most of the elements that made their debut so appealing (thankfully, Israel Nebeker’s commanding voice and melody craft remains untouched).
Record #47: Billy Squier – Don’t Say No (1981)
Admittedly, this album often borders on the campy, anthemic, macho-rock that dominated stadiums in the 1980s and gave us a slew of unintentional parodies and copycats.
But I love it.
Record #46: Billy Joel – The Stranger (1977)
There are two albums and three years between this album and Piano Man. I know nothing about those records, but if the contents of The Stranger are taken in consideration, they must have shown the transition between Billy Joel the Barroom Pianist and Billy Joel the Pop Star. The latter made The Stranger, a record that showcases more simply played, more thoughtfully produced, and more listenable and toe-tappable songs. Joel’s maturation as a songwriter, as well as his growing distance from the lounge scene, helps to create an album much more listenable than his first commercial breakthrough.
Record #45: Billy Joel – Piano Man (1973)
For an album called “Piano Man” by an artist famed for his piano playing, it starts off strangely enough–Travelin’ Prayer starts off with a fast piano figure, but it’s soon drowned out by banjo, bluegrass percussion, juice harp, and other Appalachian standbys. Joel belts out a frantic country western tune, pausing once in the chaos for a well executed–but brief–piano solo. It’s an interesting choice for an album that most every listener would buy on the merit of its legendary title track, and arguably, not a good one.
In fact, the first several bars of Piano Man are sadly obscured by this WTF moment that opens the album. But once the bluegrass fog fades away, the lead single is just as timeless and wonderful as you always remember. And when he belts out “the piano sounds like a carnival”–the picture he paints is just as potent and superbly crafted as it was the first time you heard it.
Record #44: The Beach Boys – Surf’s Up (1971)
After the demise of the Smile sessions and the varying levels of commercial and critical success of the albums that followed, Brian Wilson shrank behind the rest of the band members, letting De Facto Front Man Mike Love lead the group in a less ambitious, more commercially viable direction. Then in the wake of their most poorly received album ever, they hired a new manager who encouraged Brian to take back his role as band leader. He was reluctant, but his brother, Carl, who shared his artistic leanings, took the role. The result was Surf’s Up, considered by many to be a return to greatness.
Record #43: Billy Idol – Rebel Yell (1983)
I don’t know what it is about the flirting 80s pop did with post-punk, but I love it. Billy Idol just about flies in the face of everything Joy Division/New Order was trying to accomplish with their music, with a tuff-guy haircut and permasneer, strutting without a shirt with an unironic machismo that would have made Ian Curtis blush.
Record #42: Foghat – Tight Shoes (1980)
This is the only thing I have ever heard about Foghat in my life: in high school, a friend of mine was talking about a bit by a comedian talking about how hypocritical it was that you have to dress up nice to go to church while in all the pictures of Jesus, He looks like the drummer from Foghat.
Record #41: Benny Goodman – Benny Goodman’s Greatest Hits (1966)
I do love me some jazz. Although, as you’re likely to see later on, the subgenre swing does not get too much attention from me. My jazz of choice tends to veer more toward cool, hard bop, and various strands of avant-garde. Although, having played in the jazz band at my high school, I can appreciate good swing when I hear it. And for the most part, Benny Goodman’s Greatest Hits compiles good swing. At times, it teeters dangerously close to clarinet-led monotony, each composition starting to sound the same after a while.