Ron Rosenbaum offers up a column of middling Bob Dylan criticism -- and really, is there a current rock critic who isn't mediocre? Please, somebody, name me a consistently brilliant, original voice in that medium -- but he adds one fascinating idea: that "Up To Me" was written as a bittersweet farewell to Richard Fariņa. Turns the whole song on its head, and has me listening to Blood on the Tracks again.
Posted by mesh at July 7, 2004 06:18 PM | TrackBackI used to follow rock critics like they were theologians, but they aren't really worth the trouble anymore. They're only at their best when they're trashing something. When they rave, they just sound silly (think of Lester Bangs worshiping The Guess Who, or proclaiming Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music the greatest album of all time). The best rock critics will rise fifty years from now, rediscover everything from the first fifty years of the genre, and will justifiably wax poetic on the stuff that holds up best.
And now, the comment that will disqualify me from being taken seriously: I saw Rush last night.
Posted by: Tommy Jolly at July 8, 2004 01:12 PMWhat are you talking about, Neal Freaking Peart man!
Posted by: JosiahQ at July 13, 2004 02:45 PMMesh, I found one! Check it out: R. Robot. He's 47 times faster than anyone else.
Posted by: gosey at July 13, 2004 03:04 PMGreetings
Posted by: Jim at November 4, 2004 06:53 PM