Simple Twist Of Faith

Now hear this, Mr Zimmerman…

iven that rock’n’roll was born in the 1950s, people have long gotten used to seeing their teenage idols growing old and slowly becoming their own tribute acts.

As perfect as Pet Sounds may be, seeing The Beach Boys get excited about hitting that surf when they can no longer ride upstairs on a bus without throwing up can feel a little silly.

There are a handful of rock’n’roll icons who have managed to not only grow old gracefully but still pack something of a pop culture punch when it comes to their latest work. Bowie went out with a considerable bang with 2016’s Blackstar, whilst The Rolling Stones have steadily become the old bluesmen they idolised 5o years ago – albeit that rarest of rock’n’roll beasts, multi-billionaire bluesmen.

When it comes to the likes of Neil Young, the late Leonard Cohen, Van Morrison and McCartney, their latter years may not have quite ignited the zeitgeist of those early albums, but there’s still fire in their bellies and – given that it can be one of the great side effects of growing old – a little more peace, love and understanding in their hearts. The 1970s output of Elvis Presley – when he was indeed becoming his own tribute act in Las Vegas – is now regarded as just as soulful and fulfilled as those explosive 1950s Sun recordings that changed popular music forever.

Where Bob Dylan fits into all this is hard to say. Sure, like most of his contemporaries, he followed early, angry and groundbreaking records with a series of post-fame-and-fortune widescreen albums that explored new musical identities and landscapes. And just like every other rock god, Dylan had a pretty dreadful 1980s, the riches brought on by blockbuster arenas and the back catalogue bonanza of the CD turning even the hardest of musical minds into soft sell, shoulder-padded, coke-fuelled shadows of their former selves.

Thankfully, lessons were learned, syndrums and rolled-up jacket sleeves were abandoned, and by the close of the decade, something approaching normal service was resumed for our rock’n’roll icons. In 1989, Dylan released Oh Mercy, his first critically-acclaimed album since Infidels at the start of the decade. Following two albums of old folk and blues covers, 1997’s Time Out Of Mind was another comeback special, and it heralded in a trio of latter-day Dylan classics, continuing with Love And Theft (2001) and Modern Times (2006). Still re-embracing and emulating the music of his childhood, and further back – a move no doubt sparked by his remarkable DJ stint for Theme Time Radio Hour, which ran for 100 episodes between April 2006 and May 2009 – these three big swingin’ discs were followed by the much-loved Together Through Life (2009) and Tempest (2012) before one of the greatest songwriters of the 20th century gave himself over to the great American songbook, with a trio of albums covering early jazz standards and Tin Pan Alley classics. That Dylan’s unmistakable and increasingly raspy voice should tackle the likes of Stormy Weather, I’m A Fool To Want You and That Old Black Magic might appear comical on paper, but, in truth, they were deeply affecting, and affectionate, being clearly straight from the heart. The late Little Jimmy Scott would understand.

Which brings us to Rough And Rowdy Ways, Dylan’s first album of new material since 2012’s Tempest. Released on Friday, the reviews have been particularly glowing, as though Muhammad Ali stepped back into the ring after decades away and just delivered a masterclass knockout. That the album should break quite a few rules – the mournful, meandering Murder Most Foul, for example, running for 16 minutes and 54 seconds, warranting itself a separate disc in the CD release – whilst also embracing tradition has seen the critics – from Rolling Stone to Pitchfork – pretty much speaking in tongues. And finally, at 79, Dylan is laying his heart on the line. “The lyrics are the real thing,” he told The New York Times, “tangible. They’re not metaphors.”

Which is pretty remarkable, given just how elusive Dylan has been with his work over the past 59 years. The man is in playful spirits here too, as he snarls “I’m the last of the best, you can bury the rest“ on False Prophet, or simply grumbles at a sworn enemy, “The size of your cock will get you nowhere“…

Of course, there’s plenty more where that came from, so, we won’t ruin it for you. Instead, here’s an 80min GG mix, taking you through Dylan’s many decades and guises. A man happily out of time, all the time…

Now, go grab Rough And Rowdy Ways right about here. Alternative sleeve by Impossible Place, Dylan & Fiona Apple by Kevin Mazur, UFO Desire poster by Manus Sweeney.