Blonde on Blonde I only wish the songs were even longer. Today's country and rock stars should be ashamed of themselves after listening to this album. Maybe the artists around at the time (except for The Beatles and Johnny Cash) were so overwhelmed and intimidated that BOB inadvertently caused the eventual demise of the music industry.

What can I say about Blonde on Blonde that hasn't already been said in much better, smarter, and more interesting words?

Well, nothing. Nothing at all probably. I just wanted to say that, as time went on and I became older, *that's* when this guys music finally clicked for me. Hearing that nasally voice that seemed to reach points that initially sounded unlistenable, the harmonica playing that all sounded the same thrown at the end of every single song, and the lyrics that seemd to seemingly go on forever with simple musical ideas occupying the words... it was all too much to understand when I was younger.

Amazingly, all those complaints have gradually shifted into my mind hearing enjoyable, distinct, and creative musical ideas, the more I really paid attention to the music of Bob Dylan. Whether you can understand his lyrics or not, there's no denying he has a talent for putting unusual words together, and making something interesting out of them. The guy also has a sound and style all his own, that *no one* can copy. These are two strong talents that make Bob Dylan, and specifically the emotional journey that is Blonde on Blonde, such a classic album.

Classic Dylan album; one of his best. Worth the extra money for the gold version, if you can find it.

The Beatles? Sergeant Pepper's? John Lennon, the best writer of the Beatles said that when he was writing "I am the Walrus," he was trying to write like Dylan. Also, from "The Plastic Ono Band" album, Lennon listed, in the song "God," a plethora of icons, etc. who/which he rejected, including "Zimmerman." Methinks, in the latter case, he protested too much; if anything, to paraphrase William Blake, Lennon's folly was in giving up too soon on the Bard from Duluth (not Hibbing).

The pure (a word not associated with studio wizards) tension of "Visions of Johanna" gives a clue to why Dylan's artistry transcends popular music (and the band's smokin', too!).

"And Madonna she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler he now steps to the road
He writes, 'Everything's been returned which was owed,'
On the back of the fish trucks that load
While my conscience explodes."

KA-FREAKIN'-BOOM!

And while the Weathermen's explosions showed they needed a moral weatherman - that, like Nietzsche warned, they'd become a monster by trying to destroy another monster - the poet writhed in the shadow of the void, a "creature driven and derided by vanity," proving that greater wisdom only brings greater sorrow. And death's sting will silence the voice of a generation's suffering and the earth will continue spinning, proving that nearly immortal means nearly nothing except, perhaps, greater awareness of man's desperate mortality.

No wonder the B.Y. (Before Yoko) Lennon imitated Dylan's pen.

More than any other album by anyone, B.O.B. provides a cathartic easel for the musical and lyrical sponge that is Bob Dylan. Long live the King!

Those who believe Dylan's title as "The Bard of Hibbing" is an exaggeration most likely haven't ever listened to 'Blonde on Blonde,' his finest achievement ever. Remarkably, he delivers a double-c.d.'s worth of hypnotic, propelling music with fluid lyrics that are filled with wit and magnificent imagery. The album gives the greatest folk-rock delivery, but is varied enough to draw from country, blues, and cajun jazz. Topically, they are mostly about love that's gone sour, but there are also love songs stunning in their devotion.

"Rainy Day Women #12 & 35," gets the album started with perhaps the least remarkable song. While perennial commentary has focused on drug use, the song cleverly is really about, well,...rainy day women. The music recalls Bourbon Street in New Orleans and contains the refrain, "Everybody must get stoned," as in stoned drunk after bad relationships. Of course, Dylan is clever enough to bring more than one meaning to most of his songs. 'Blood on the Tracks' can also be detected on even better songs, like the masterful "Temporary Like Achilles," and the aching longing of "Visions of Johanna". While these songs are imploding at the seams with intricate and quiet passion, other songs deliver more deliberately. "Stuck Inside a Mobile (with the Memphis Blue Again)" and "Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat" are simply great fun, overflowing in indelible imagery and rich stories. "Obviously Five Believers" and "Absolutely Sweet Marie" raise the bar even further. These two songs are frenetic and mesmerizing, showcasing a phrasing simply not found elsewhere. The latter song is a masterpiece. Crescendoing into a frenzy by his able band, Dylan sings with great finesse a surreal nightmare version of 'Romeo and Juliet' as only an alchemist like he can do and with enough originality to transcend the task. But, wisely, even Dylan has the sense not to dwell too long on bitterness in courtship. "I Want You" demonstrates that his vocal style is accessible enough on this effort to broaden his appeal. (The song was one of two top ten hits from this album, afterall.) Next, his tenderness and devotion are well represented by the classic, "Just Like a Woman" and the langourous and brilliant closer "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands". All of the rest of the songs deserve mention, but they represent the ebb and flow of brilliance that make this c.d. a classic with nothing close to being extraneous. The highlights should underscore what the allegedly lesser songs do as well. If you never experience a Dylan album again, at least start or end here.