(For Bob Dylan’s invisible self)
It’s 2 AM, and I’m listening with headphones to Street Legal.
Ripped from the original vinyl, and yes that makes all of the difference.
I have never understood those who criticize this record.
It’s his voice that catches me off guard every time.
He sounds like he’s in the darkness with no rehabilitation or recovery in sight.
Maybe that’s the trouble. This record is too full of unvarnished truth and dire consequences with no smoke or mirrors to tamp down the flames as this man burns alive right before our unsympathetic ears.
What if Bob Dylan’s just a man and feels things just like any human being does?
What if Bob Dylan’s one of those truly rare artists who can take everything brewing inside of him and pour it onto the page with no self-restraint or self-censorship?
What if what Bob Dylan hears in his head is exactly what we are experiencing on this record?
There is absolutely nothing wrong with the original mix.
In fact I think the so called muddy sound just brings us closer to the alienated state of affairs this record slices through like a Jewish ninja hell-bent on self-reconstruction as they look for the cure or catchall to bring everything back into focus.
“If I’m there in the morning, baby, you’ll know I’ve survived.”