{"id":12894,"date":"2024-01-22T01:19:00","date_gmt":"2024-01-22T00:19:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/roglacup.com\/klaus62\/?p=12894"},"modified":"2024-01-21T07:28:31","modified_gmt":"2024-01-21T06:28:31","slug":"morning-songbob-dylan-joey","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/roglacup.com\/klaus62\/2024\/01\/22\/morning-songbob-dylan-joey\/","title":{"rendered":"Morning song#Bob Dylan #Joey"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Dylan\u2019s previous record, the precision-controlled display of omniscient superego that was 1975\u2019s\u00a0Blood on the Tracks<\/em><\/a>, had set an impossibly high standard for its follow-up. In response,\u00a0Desire<\/em>\u00a0was a fantasia of grave injustices and grave robberies, exotic and dangerous locales, broiling days and fleeting gestures in the face of grim destiny. Its nine songs spread out over 56 minutes, co-mingling protest folk, travelogue tunes, throwback country, and sideways klezmer, all comprising one peculiar episode in the baffling sweep of his career.\u00a0Blood on the Tracks<\/em>\u00a0was a document of personal and romantic trauma that traced an outline around a generation who prized individual freedoms to the point of self-annihilating alienation.\u00a0Desire<\/em>\u00a0is about getting stoned and strange and trying to forget about all of that<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A straggling Gemini-twin to \u201cHurricane,\u201d\u00a0Desire<\/em>\u2019s most indulgent composition whinges on interminably and borderline incomprehensibly about the gangland slaying of an objectively psychotic mafia figure named Joey Gallo. Dylan famously coined the aspirational phrase \u201cto live outside the law you must be honest,\u201d a formulation that \u201cJoey\u201d undermines in every way possible. If you wanted to make the case for \u201cJoey\u201d as his worst song, you might begin with the demented portrayal of Gallo as some manner of saint, whose ahistorical indulgences might be more persuasive had Dylan bothered to string them together with a shred of narrative logic. You might move on to the torpid melody, one of the least memorable he\u2019s ever written. But hey, at least it\u2019s 11 minutes long. The twist is, in the nimble, gleefully amoral hands of the Grateful Dead, this dismal composition became supple and agreeable. Somehow the Dead brought \u201cJoey\u201d back to life. There\u2019s your graverobbers right there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Posted from: https:\/\/pitchfork.com\/reviews\/albums\/bob-dylan-desire\/<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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