More Boom Tunes
This is the sound of Bob Dylan wrapped in chaos, just the way he likes it. Released right before the inauguration of President Jimmy Carter, America was running ragged and looking for some rest. The Vietnam War had been lost, and not many promises were popping out of the rabbit holes. Dylan latched onto the story of Ruben “Hurricane” Carter, a heavyweight boxer imprisoned for a murder many believed he didn’t commit, and told his tale with a rushed propulsion that felt like a runaway subway car blowing red lights all the way downtown. Scarlet Rivera’s violin played a hot-blooded gypsy lead while Dylan’s vocal was pinched and pissed-off. There was no way around the looming sense of doom that oozed out of this song, or the rhythm section fueled by galloping beats and Chinese cymbal crashes. At eight-and-a-half minutes, it’s one of the Big D.’s longer originals, but the way he delivers it in such a blur it feels over way too soon. Oddly enough, it was almost a hit single, which proves how crazy things had gotten then: the Ramones and the rest of the CBGBers waited in the alley to mug rock & roll and usher in a whole new wave of music, while disco threw a beating blanket over black music for the rest of the ‘70s. Dylan took off on the Rolling Thunder Revue, raising sand wherever they landed, and then waited out the ‘80s as best he could. His resurgence on Oh Mercy in the early ‘90s started the greatest third act in American music, one we’re still bearing witness to today. As for Ruben Carter, some things are best left in the past after all.






