Bob Dylan
Desire

He seems to have always been mature: if not exactly from birth, at least from a very young age. It is hard for those who listen to his first masterpiece "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" to believe that that rough voice, those perfect and poignant verses, delivered with the confidence of a preacher (but with many more arguments), could have come from the mind of the young man pictured on the cover.

In the mid-70s, Bob Dylan truly finds himself "in the middle of our life's journey", and his chronological maturity coincides with a great creative rebirth. It is true that much has been read and said about Dylan during these years: relaxed, bourgeois, traitor, deserter, and so on. But the ideologically driven critics often have the mental rigidity of a zealot: reading certain irrevocable judgments, one suspects that they didn't even bother to listen to albums like "Blood On The Tracks", "Desire", and "Street Legal", a splendid trilogy from the mature Bob, with "Desire" at its center. The former folk singer with guitar and harmonica, having been a true rock musician for ten years now, is now a refined composer for whom even rock starts to feel a bit constrained. There is a trademark that makes this record unmistakable: the violin of Jewish traditional accompaniment, the "fiddle". Not only does it appear in all nine tracks, but it also always takes a leading role: with its moans and trills, it makes even the longest ballads absolutely intense and poignant. For the record, the brilliant violinist is a certain Scarlet Rivera, who would disappear by the next album. Alongside a strong musical inspiration, Dylan regains the ability to write important lyrics, although some credit goes to playwright Jacques Levy.

"Hurricane", the overwhelming and irresistible ballad that opens the album, is a fantastic example of Dylanian neorealism. It’s the true story of the black boxer Rubin Carter, imprisoned following a political-mafia scam for a crime he didn't commit, just as he was about to become world champion. The fierce indignation of the 60s Dylan is finally found again here. A completely different masterpiece is "Sara", probably his most heartfelt and painful love poem, dedicated to his wife and the ideal sequel to "Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands". It is one of those female portraits worthy of "Blonde On Blonde", so finely sculpted that they seem like icons ("Scorpio Sphinx in a calico robe", just to quote a verse). The sadness of the music is that of a beach left deserted like the heart of someone who has lost the woman of his life. It closes the album like a precious seal. Between "Hurricane" and "Sara" there is anything but emptiness. "Isis", another visionary female figure, also stands out for an unusual Bob Dylan at the piano, played just as expected from him, that is, relentlessly struck to produce hard and metallic sounds. "Mozambique" is instead a brief and delightful exotic tableau, with rhythms more Caribbean than African, in which the violin recreates the languid colors of a sunlit imaginary paradise. "One More Cup Of Coffee" subtly and discreetly anticipates the Latin, Mexican sounds that would have their triumph in the splendid "Romance In Durango", an adventure of two fugitives set in a Western film scenario. Thanks to the evolutions of the violin and the plucked acoustic guitars like mandolins, there’s a great profusion of colors, quite unusual for Dylan. "Black Diamond Bay" is a splendid nightmare in verse: the pace is rapid, punctuated by a dry jazzy drum; in "Oh, Sister" the violin instead provides velvety and decidedly romantic tones. There is not a single weak track, also because "Joey", the only slightly boring ballad (eleven minutes), in return has lyrics worthy of framing.

Exactly thirty years have passed since the release of this masterpiece from the mature Dylan, but every time the guitar of "Hurricane" starts, a new dream begins.