Bob Dylan
Christmas in the Heart

........"Risposta non c'è o forse lui lo sa / perduta nel vento sarà?" B.D.

Every project aimed at charity is in itself a praiseworthy and charitable act. If an artist manages, with his art and "relative effort," to move hundreds of thousands of euros (or dollars) to distribute to sick children, dilapidated hospitals, or third-world populations... in the end, what's wrong with that?

I wouldn't be bothered at all if someone like Gianfranco Vissani promoted San Carlo fries, donating the entire proceeds to the children of Belarus, or if Valentino Rossi raced in a scooter event to give the proceeds to a respectful and deserving charity (and if the matter is handled in a clean and ethically impeccable way!). Does it perhaps bother anyone?

However, I don't know why, when the Artist in question is someone of the caliber of Bob Dylan, the American conscience of the shattered American dream, the singer of the Beat Generation, the one who first gave a voice to a generation that until then had been mute, etc., etc... Anyway, I admit it, it bothers me a bit. As if it breaks something "untouchable"... a cloak of respectability that, in this way, goes to hell (sorry Gianfranco!).

I thought that in this world, now in a frenzy, something (or someone) could exempt itself from this continuous carnival we witness daily, helplessly (from Obama becoming a Nobel Peace Prize winner to our President praising the work of a dictator from Eastern countries...). I thought there was still a "limit" beyond which one could not cross. But no.

Dylan is not God, to be clear. He has come down from the pedestal, and even he has let himself get carried away to have fun and fool around, regardless of the meaning that every gesture of his carries.

Indeed, yes: the old lion has amazed us once again. Just a few months after his "Together Through Life", the most idolized (and most reclusive) singer-songwriter in America gives us the "Christmas package" of this "Christmas in the Heart". 15 famous (and less famous) songs from the American Christmas repertoire reinterpreted by the cavernous and broken voice of the old wolf Dylan, who seems to wade with nonchalance through marches, children's voices, jingle bells, and church organs that so much recall the idyllic atmospheres of '50s Christmases...

There's almost a disorientation between these sugary and vintage atmospheres of yesteryear and the crumbling and "cynical" singing of the bard that seasons everything with blues guitars, harmonicas, and banjo tunes that at times are truly embarrassing (above all, the slip of Adeste Fideles here renamed under false pretenses). An unlikely mix of sacred and Christmas atmospheres on one side and "dirty, rough" interpretations of a country-bluesman at times semi-drunk (at least that's the impression it gives) who is not very attentive to the aesthetics and detail of the Christmas atmosphere. Something that attracts on one hand and annoys on the other.

A contradictory album that doesn't quite make it clear where it wants to go. A praiseworthy (perhaps) album in terms of intentions (very Christmasy and good-hearted all that) but that leaves much to be desired in terms of results, for its discontinuity and a sense of "veiled boredom" that seems to pervade even the musicians themselves and that, in the end, is felt throughout the album.

P.S. Let's hope that age doesn't make him lose his mind as well, because already in 1997 in Bologna, we witnessed something that we would never have imagined to see.........