Bob Dylan
Modern Times

THE REVIEW

"Modern Times" is Dylan's new work. And there's reason to rejoice. The great old man with the off-key and ghostly voice adds, with grace and ease, another memorable gem to his rich musical collection. "Modern Times" is an album that exalts the spirit of the American working class and contains an impressive (and extraordinary) sequence of musical and cinematic references that alone would earn it top marks. From John Lennon's "Working Class Hero" to Charlie Chaplin's "Modern Times," it's a fascinating journey through the depths of a painfully working-class and historically classist society.
"Modern Times" doesn't need to be perfect (the sound is raw and a bit roughly hewn), all it needs is Dylan's voice, a guitar, and a piano. Just those few elements, those few gestures, are enough to recreate, in seconds, the myth of "Masters of War" and "Just Like a Woman." Even just two whispered words, a late rock memory and a final declaration of love that leaves you stunned and amazed ("Rollin' and Tumblin'" is the only romantic track on the album).
"Modern Times" aligns more with "Infidels" (1983), a fine Dylan work that puzzled and shocked fans (but Dylan loves to confuse with his inventions and provocations) rather than with "Oh, Mercy" (1989), perhaps an unrepeatable masterpiece. There's no precision and not even meticulous attention to detail, there's only purposeness of intention: to speak to the heart of the people, without intricate or cumbersome musical artifices. In "Workingman's Blues # 2" he speaks directly to the workers: "... The proletariat's purchasing power has sunk / money is becoming weaker and more insubstantial / the places I loved are now just a pale memory." Precisely: to strike right at the heart of the problem.
In a recent interview with Rolling Stone, Dylan ferociously accused the new technologies and said, "technology has destroyed music, I don't know anyone who in the last twenty years has recorded a decent sounding album." Dear Bob, "Modern Times" doesn't really have such a perfect sound, but I forgive you, and everyone should forgive you, because even today you are one of the few songwriters who strives to record music genuinely, without too many synthesizers or vocal modifiers. Can you imagine Dylan singing with a perfectly clear and in-tune voice? Maybe it wouldn't be so musically fascinating, or maybe, more simply, it would never have existed.
A taste of death, as often happens lately, in this "Modern Times": the end of a career or the end of a life? The anguished Dylan of the early millennium is perhaps a bit too pessimistic and apocalyptic, but he still maintains a lucid and merciless view of the world and society: "Ain't Talkin" tells us something extremely dramatic (the end of life, the twilight of the world), and the answer in the wind, the one that everyone vainly sought in 1963, now is almost a mirage, or rather, a premonition. Of darkness and definitive melancholy.
Everything can be forgiven of Dylan (after all, he is History, let someone try to mimic his Monument) and even the initial "Thunder on the Mountain" if sung and played by someone else would have resulted in a poor and excessively insecure piece (the music, the voice, the sound wobbles) but in the end, you paradoxically realize, that it is one of the liveliest and most carefree tracks of the entire album (and this speaks volumes about how Dylan must feel spiritually!).
But modern times actually, besides being pessimistic, are also fast and elusive, amidst new technologies (often obsolete) advancing and a desire to run here and there frenetically without a reason and without a purpose. And the cover, in this sense, perfectly expresses the discomfort and speed of these modern times of ours. So, even an imperfect album like this, but after all peaceful and calmly seductive (no sudden changes in musical speed) can be a godsend: maybe the much-maligned modern times can occasionally give us something peaceful and relaxing? Then, of course, in the history of music "Modern Times" will never appear, while "Highway 61 Revisited" will always be there at the top, but what does it matter, since by now, even those of the New York Dolls, have stated: "One day we will be pleased to remember even this." And why not?

"Modern Times", like all of Dylan's most recent albums, will garner as many detractors as admirers (I stand with the admirers, if you permit), while a notable detractor, Riccardo Bertoncelli, reminds us that this album is "fragile and confused," but he, too, is forced to admit that Dylan, in some musical passages, seems to have absorbed the Italian pianistic musical lesson: "Beyond the Horizon" seems like a track composed by Paolo Conte's older (excuse me, younger) brother. And it's no coincidence that Dylan often and willingly returns (especially in summer) to play in Italy.
Say what you will, Dylan remains unique and inimitable. At least until proven otherwise.