I was born in 1971, to non-hippie parents. By the time I was an adolescent, I felt I came into the world after the fact, missed some kind of boat. There were things to fear, like oil shortages and nuclear war, but not much to look forward to. Human beings had already walked on the moon (supposedly). The Vietnam War/Conflict was over. Although its repercussions were publicly emerging in the U.S.A.'s consciousness in films like First Blood/Rambo and Platoon, this only confirmed for my pre-teen brain that "real" wars, tangible and immediate, were fought in the past--not the thing happening called the Cold War I didn't understand. Racism was sadly alive and well--I saw it in small and large ways daily--but the Civil Rights Movement's leader had long been gone and teachers spoke of the movement as a thing of the past. Grand protests and marches were also history. I heard the phrase "postmodern" thrown around. Musically, the British Invasion of the 60's was also over (but little did I know another one was happening in my eyeballs via MTV). Not all 1980's music was insubstantial, but in comparison to other decades, the pickins were sure slim. My first glimpse of Bob Dylan was probably in a Traveling Wilburys video, barely soothing my soul or changing my life.
In search of quality music I spent years, highway miles, and money pursuing the likes of everything from The Grateful Dead to Fishbone to Taj Mahal to Phish to Ani DiFranco. I didn't hear Bob Dylan's non-Wilbury work until I was a young adult, catching bits of "Tangled Up in Blue" floating off a Rhode Island beachside porch. It took a PBS video documentary, The History of Rock'n Roll, to teach me what a huge influence Dylan was in the 1960's on other artists and on our country's psyche. Sure, I bought an old tape for my car and I respected him, but his music didn't speak to me. As far as I knew, he was a has-been: a substance abuser, mediocre music maker and performer, and later, the star of a Victoria's Secret TV commercial. Not my thing.
This year I quit teaching and temporarily moved to the Live Music Capital of the World: Austin, Texas--wellspring of live music and quality songwriting. I heard countless thoughtful songwriters interviewed on Austin radio (Gurf Morlix!), interspersed with news updates on our country's occupation in Iraq, on climate change, and the latest debate about No Child Left Behind. I fell back in love with radio as a medium and with the importance of songs that speak to the soul. And then it happened--on my drive from Texas back to Vermont--Bob Dylan spoke to me. "Times They Are A Changing" might as well have been written last week.
How was I to realize, back when I thought I was born too late, that the Civil Rights Movement was still marching in my 1986 copy of Run DMC's Raising Hell? That the age of technology was around the corner? ….That Bob Dylan's words would "ring true, and glow like burnin' coal" through my speakers as I sagged with the weight of our country, driving across it with the glazed and tired eyes of a burnt-out teacher? That Bob Dylan would release the impressive Modern Times, and perform so well right here in Vermont this summer (2007) that I smiled until my teeth hurt?
When I learned of a recent iPod commercial featuring Dylan last week, I just smiled some more. The guy's been pushing boundaries his whole career. Another case of him "selling out"? The album (CD? digital file?) advertised on the commercial is called Modern Times. In my eyes, this is one phenomenon in music (Dylan) acknowledging another (technology). What's my point? Please don't be stuck on a particular vision of Bob Dylan, or any artist, and don't deprive yourself of good music. Artists are people, and they evolve. Time happens. Dylan captured it best decades ago: "As the present now will later be past, the order is rapidly fadin'. And the first one now will later be last, for the times they are a-changin'."
See for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCw33l7w1fQ
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