Published on Aug 20, 2003
On March 14, 1966, John Lennon told a London newspaper that the
Beatles were “bigger than Jesus.” After his joint persecution at
hands of the press and conservative groups, public awareness was
heightened of popular music’s content, specifically lyrics. So
where does Bob Dylan fit in?
“Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re trying to be so
good, They’ll stone ya just a-like they said they would. They’ll
stone ya when you’re tryin’ to go home. Then they’ll stone ya when
you’re there all alone. But I would not feel so all alone,
Everybody must get stoned…”
In April 1966, Dylan intentionally dropped “Rainy Day Women #12
& 35” on the unsuspecting public’s lap when he released this
classic as the introductory single to
Blonde On Blonde. The track’s environment was jolly; it
opened with muffled and bleeding horns, a marching-style drum track
and sounds of a cackling mob responding to Dylan’s giggled lyrics.
Shockingly, relatively no public backlash occurred. “Rainy Day
Women #12 & 35” loaded and launched the perfect offensive. In
fact, this single was so commercially accepted that it reached #2
on Billboard’s Singles Chart.
Other songs including the breezy harmonica-laden “I Want You”
and the evil “Just Like A Woman” were also released on AM radio to
modest success. However, the power of
Blonde On Blonde isn’t that it carries a collection of
singles, but that it perfectly sequences moods and tracks to
promote inspired and repeated listens.
If you happen to be a fan of simple-minded, cliched lyrics with
a blatant radio-friendly production, then you will dislike and/or
fail to understand this album. As the songs roll on, eclecticism
reigns. Teetering between rock, blues, folk, witty comedy and the
provocatively wistful, each song carries you a purposeful
journey.
Placed firmly as a fixture in the collections of many critics,
Blonde On Blonde consistently reaches the upper regions of
all-time album charts. Recently, it was prominently positioned at
#9 on VH1’s
All-Time 100 Greatest Albums of Rock-N-Roll (2001). Don’t be
afraid; place this in your stereo system. Sure it’s been around
longer than most readers have likely existed, but trust me…it’s
hip.
Blonde On Blonde‘s timelessness, seamless sequence, tone and
surreal aural candy remain as fresh-frozen today as it did 37 years
ago.