Next week, Bob Dylan will release his latest record, Triplicate, a 96-minute, three-disc set of classic American songs. This follows up on Fallen Angels and Shadows In The Night, his previous two releases that also mined this rich musical ground.
On the surface, this sounds like self-indulgent crap from a legendary artist who hasn't put out anything decent in years and has run out of ideas.
Except it's not true.
Let the music do the talking.
I Could Have Told You, the first single from Triplicate, is beautiful and tender, "whisky bar music from the 1940s," a fan wrote on YouTube. Dylan's voice is smooth and rich ("this song goes out to everyone who thought Dylan couldn't sing," wrote another fan).
"That's not Bob Dylan!" cried one of the reporters in the newsroom. "He's opening his mouth!"
In other words, it's a surprise and what an accomplishment that is for a performer of Dylan's status, more than six decades into an amazing career.
Dylan's ability to surprise should hardly be surprising any more. This is what an undaunted rebel artist heart looks like. He refuses, even at 75, to conform to expectations. He remains true to his muse and to his vision, completely ignoring what anyone else thinks he should be doing instead.
Dylan is hardly alone in his recent interest in covering other material, particularly at this point in his career. Rod Stewart also put out a trio of records - The Great American Songbook - of classic early and mid-20th century material. Under Rick Rubin's guidance, Johnny Cash covered contemporary material by other artists, making their songs his own. Everyone from Jann Arden and Metallica to John Lennon and Dolly Parton has a covers album in their repertoire.
Covers are valuable, both for the singer and for the audience. For the performer, it's an opportunity to pay tribute to musical heroes while also going back to their original sources of inspiration. For listeners, it's a glimpse into the record collection of their favourite singers and a chance to hear them play the material that makes them happy. In other words, it's a voyage of discovery for both sides.
The irony is that Dylan's songs are by far the most covered material in the modern music canon, a testament to the respect for both the man and his work from fellow musicians. It speaks to the timelessness and quality of his contribution.
So allow the man to indulge in his nostalgia. He's certainly earned it.
More importantly, he's not trying to be a young man, embarrassing himself and tarnishing his record, as so many other legends have over the years. His material from the 1960s and 1970s was amazing and has aged well because it is the voice of a strong young man with important things to say. He is now an old man - he'll be 76 by the time he takes the stage at CN Centre on July 22 - so he is playing what speaks to him now, what feels right to sing tonight.
To do anything less would not be Dylan.
This is the kind of persistence that makes music meaningful. Chuck Berry's death on Saturday at age 90 was a poignant reminder of that. Berry made his music loud and fearlessly, tapping into a postwar America that wanted to cut loose and live life. Like Dylan, his songs were hugely influential and frequently covered because musicians love to play them as much as audiences love to hear them.
Dylan's persistence has given him a well-earned reputation as cranky and uncooperative. He agreed to play the second-to-last David Letterman show but insisted on playing The Night We Called It A Day, a Sinatra song off Fallen Angels, not a classic number like Blowin' In The Wind or Highway 61 Revisited. When Letterman sauntered over to do the usual handshake, backslap thanks-very-much "BOB DYLAN EVERYBODY!" shtick, Dylan turned his back on him.
Local music fans, take note. This isn't a man who does things just to please others. He turned his nose up at a trip to Stockholm to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature. He doesn't have to play Prince George or Dawson Creek. He's coming here because he wants to, no doubt to the frustration of a promoter who would love him to stick to the bigger cities and the larger venues.
Remember that when the lights go down on that upcoming Saturday night in July.
