Modern Times by Bob Dylan

October 11, 2009

Returns to form are proclaimed every time Bob Dylan releases an album, and if Time Out of Mind was a masterpiece, I wasn’t too keen on Oh! Mercy.

So I didn’t rush out to get Modern Times when it came out to much acclaim and high sales in 2006. Yet its a remarkable piece of work. Just as Dylan had embraced country in the late 60s, here he chooses a musical tableau that’s virtually pre-rock, a suitably timeless backing to a series of highly emotionally charged songs. Here is the Dylan that he’d open up about in his autobiography Chronicles Vol.1, a musical magpie, taking in various music from different places – blues, rock and roll, country, folk, popular music – and knowing which bits to use and which bits to discard. Dylan as musical curator had come to the fore through his unexpected new career as a radio presenter, yet its what he’s always done.

As one of the main legends of rock music over the decades, he has more reason than most to have ownership of this wide legacy. So even if the musical tropes on Modern Times go back as far as the twenties, thirties and forties, it never once sounds like a nostalgic work. Lyrically its a spiritual work, not as downbeat as the old man’s last testament that Time Out of Mind seemed to be. In fact the more jaunty, less bluesy backing helps the song sing with an unexpected joi de vivre – but that’s been something that Dylan’s always done, alongside his more introspective work.

The songs are elemental, Biblical – with titles like Thunder on the Mountain and the Levee’s Gonna Break – a familiar territory for Dylan, but also for any rock and roll that beats with the heart of its origins. The stunning Workingmans Blues #2 may well be his best song since Hurricane.

2003′s debut by British Sea Power seemed to come out of nowhere. Here was a band fully formed in terms of its sound and aesthetic, and who sounded about the most exciting British band for years. With echoes of late 70s Bowie (Lodger/Scary Monsters) giving a glam feel to their more traditional sonic palate. Signed to revitalised Rough Trade (who had shook up the British music scene with New Yorkers the Strokes) they seemed in the vanguard of a series of British rock bands who were “indie” but not afraid to write big songs. If there were some bands, like Athlete and Elbow, who appeared to be taking Radiohead’s introspective aesthetic, British Sea Power, along with Bloc Party, seemed to be in the other direction, wanting to make a new kind of alternative rock music for the young people (mainly guys) who came to their gigs. There was none of the faux sixties/faux new wave gestures of labelmates The Libertines, more the quirky art-rock aesthetic that you can find in bands like Magazine, Psychedelic Furs and Echo and the Bunnymen.

In songs like Carrion, they weren’t afraid to try their hand at the anthemic, and this side of their music would come through more and more on following albums, but for once, with The Decline of British Sea Power, a band seemed to have got all its good habits together on the debut.

Seeing them live in 2008, it was the songs from the debut that stood out from the sonic storm, careering riffs, reminiscent of Fripp on Scary Monsters, anthemic choruses, and a certain quirky raggedness. Follow ups Open Season and particularly Do You Like Rock Music? had their moments, but weren’t anywhere near as surprising. Listening to it now its one of the best debuts of the decade, and all the better, for having been such a surprise package.

The decade has only so far given us two new Chilli Peppers albums, this – a double – and the double-double Stadium Arcadium. If there previous album Californication, had been the last great rock record of the 20th century, and showed an influence of Altamont-era Stones, By the Way’s touchstone was the Beatles.

Easily there most tuneful, and cheerful set of songs, the harder edges and rap-rock workouts were much fewer and further between – and its mainstream success was hardly a surprise. The key singles: anthemic By the Way, gorgeous Zephyr Song, dancey Can’t Stop and poppy Universally Speaking were all growers. They made the Chilli Peppers a popular band after years as cult item, Frusciante’s writing and guitar playing, and Keidis’s sincerest vocals, combining to create a surprising accessibility to a band that had always been wilfully shamboilic.

Revisiting these songs and others on tour, they grew in intensity, and remain amongst their most recognisable songs, though only 2 tracks were picked for the following Greatest Hits – perhaps the record company assuming that buyers of the latter would already have this, and would just want a companion volume compiling their previous songs.

The thing I’ve always liked about the Chilli Peppers is the sense that they are what they are; that they’ve lived through things and put them back into the songs – grunge or emo before those things existed – but also that they’re a party band. Although I wouldn’t choose By the Way ahead of Californication or Blood Sex Sugar Magic it remains their most consistent selection of songs.

The more melodic direction, the cleaner production, and the length of the album (16 tracks) hint of the hubris that would derail Stadium Arcadian – once the Peppers had found this particular sound, they seem to have stuck with it, and it can be too much of a good thing. Like Oasis, their sincerity cuts them out for a certain type of rock critic ire, yet is this really so less satisfying a record than something of the college-stadium aspirations of Arcade Fire?