For as long as I could remember, the adults in my life had always referred to me as an old soul. I was fond of the title, leaned into it even. To further claim my title of old soul, I avoided modern culture: books, movies, but especially music. Maybe by admitting this I’m predating myself and going against the pride I take in being an old soul but here goes: I had no idea who Bob Dylan was until I heard about him in my favorite movie mere years ago. Both the artist and Time Out of Mind, his smashing comeback album, were unfamiliar to me until they provided a large bit of source material for Dan Fogelman’s film Life Itself. Upon listening to his album, I realized the literary and musical goldmine that was Time Out of Mind. I had so much to say on this album that I had to go back to my writing process roots and write this article on an old coffee-stained memo pad to make sure I mentioned everything worth discussing.
Now I can only humbly hope that you see and hear what I do while reading this.
Time Out of Mind, a comeback album for the ages, beat out Paul McCartney and Radiohead for Best Album of the Year in 1998. The tone of the album seemed to match the tone of Dylan’s life during this time of his life. It holds the characteristics of someone who was coming out of a severe creative dry spell, had lived through the death of a friend, flopped on the last album he released, and gotten into a severe motorcycle accident. Dylan strived to make this album a brilliant mixture of blues and rock. And that is exactly what he managed to do. As I went through my first listen of Time Out of Mind, it almost feels like listening to two albums spliced together. The album goes between hardened songs that are beautifully inspired by blues, and songs that are just as achingly beautiful but take a steady mixture of inspiration from both blues and rock. I have to say: I was more affected by the songs that were less blues-like, and I attribute this to being able to focus more on the lyrics than the killer blues sound in the background. But, I must admit that this album wouldn’t be the same without the likes of the blues inspired pieces like “Dirt Road Blues”, “Cold Irons Bound”, and “‘Til I Fell in Love with You.”
Though I would argue that the whole album is a masterful work of art, there were four stand outs to me that I want to highlight. The first is “Love Sick”, the album’s first track.This is a minor key tune that isn’t quite a love song but rather a song of lost love. I’ve seen arguments that this is and should be considered a song of love. However, when the song includes lines like: “this kind of love/I’m so sick of it” and “ I wish I’d never met you/ I’m sick of love/ I’m trying to forget you”, I don’t really feel like that could be true. A “I love you and I hate that I do” song, sure. But a proclamation of absolute passion? No. The lyrics and the song’s accompaniment not only made for an uneasy listening experience, but one that felt like the conclusion to an album that was only beginning. I have to commend this decision, though I am a firm believer in strong beginnings that you know, feel like beginnings.
Though it wasn’t my favorite track on the album, “Standing in the Doorway” was a masterpiece that managed to connect my own misery to Dylan’s. This is a gentle sounding ballad with the intense weight of the lyrics doing most of the heavy lifting. The song seems to follow a man trying to navigate his complicated feelings after a separation from a partner. Bob Dylan begins the song by singing that “Yesterday everything was moving too fast / today it’s moving too slow.” The subject matter of the song seems to be in a constant state of motion, moving away from his failed relationship and towards something, anything else to give him purpose. The next line that says “Don’t know if I saw you, I would kiss you or kill you” represents the unsure nature of the narrator that is represented throughout the song. The narrator’s dubious attitude towards his failed relationship and life path is beautifully drafted in “Standing in the Doorway”. I’ll happily commend Bob Dylan’s songwriting ability any day of the week and “Standing in the Doorway” is beautifully written and masterfully played.
“Not Dark Yet” is the album’s seventh track. Between the organ, drums, and bass, the song is haunting in the best way. I will shamelessly admit that this was my favorite track on the album. At its core, this song is about how much you’re lost and yet, how much you still have to lose. It’s about recognizing how much you’ve already lost and yet, how much you still have. When learning about this article, one of the first pieces of information that I found was that after finishing Time Out of Mind, Bob Dylan contracted a fungal infection that almost led to his death. This was a powerful song before, but the poignancy was almost tripled for me when I learned this. Lyrically, the song is a masterpiece but the repeated line that says “it’s not dark yet, but it’s gettin’ there” feels reminiscent of one succumbing to the twilight of life. He knows that death has been chasing him and is finally ready to embrace it. Bob Dylan wrote this song before his near death experience, but he found himself facing what almost was the twilight of his own life. I hope that the weight and bitter irony of that bit of information isn’t lost on anyone.
The final song that I want to mention appears near the end of this album full of nothing but hopeless heartbreak. “Make You Feel My Love” is the ninth track on the album, and is the one love song that would almost get passed over if it weren’t one of Dylan’s most covered songs. Not only has it been covered by countless artists over the years but it has also garnered one of my most split opinions than any other track on Time Out of Mind. Instead of grieving about lost love as seen on every other track, this begs for it instead. There are lines like “I could make you happy/ make your dreams come true” that plead for another chance at love, and the narrator begins the song certain that they could provide this. However, as the song progresses, they come to the realization that they couldn’t promise this, maybe that they weren’t even capable. Maybe for some this song is the equivalent of an ex partner who shows up at your door at three am begging for you to hear him out, but maybe it’s the long awaited first sign of reconciliation and another opportunity for love. In an album where the subject matter is kind of a bummer, this song seems to be the soulfight that occurs when faced with the possibility for love, and the inevitably of it failing for the narrator.
Immediately after listening to this album, I came to think that we’re all just facing life, crawling through the lows, and knowing that it ends the same for everyone: death. Death will come as inevitability as the sun will set. It was only after my second and then third time listening that I began to feel differently. This album is full of unrelenting sorrow, but I finally understood that this album is growing older and trading youth for wisdom and watching your friends do the same.
As aforementioned, Time Out of Mind provides a large amount of subject matter to Life Itself, the favorite movie of mine that introduced me to the album and Dylan as an artist. In this movie, it was said that Bob Dylan’s album came under scrutiny because it had a singular love song in the midst of only grief, and that the one song (one “Make You Feel My Love”) was the one spot of brightness in the midst of what is a heavy album. The movie used it as a metaphor for life, and finding peace in a world built of nothing with grief. My freshman year in highschool self revealed in this movie’s epiphany, convinced that it was correct and life changing because it was my favorite movie. I don’t think that anymore.
I’m in the middle of my last summer as a college student, with real life so close. I watch my friends score internships, apply for jobs and get rejected, get hired for a job only to loathe it. We’re watching each other grow older, and suddenly this album is about more than moving towards death. It’s about embracing the journey, through darkness and light, sorrow and love, and heartbreak. According to Dylan, wherever life takes you, darkness and sorrow are sure to follow, death a close second away. But according to Life Itself, love is never too far behind sorrow, and as inevitably as the sun will set, it will rise again.
Lizzie Skaggs
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