Poor Jakob Dylan.
Can you imagine what it would be like, to be the child of a musical legend? The constant pressure to live
up to the expectations of your parent’s talent and prestige… it would be like two of Archie Manning’s sons becoming quarterbacks and… err, wait. Bad example. It would be like Bobby Bonds’ son playing baseball and… crap.
Anyway, can you imagine being Bob Dylan’s son and having a record producer saying something like this:
“I don’t think Jakob sold a single record because he is Bob’s son. I think he sold a lot of records because ‘One Headlight’ is a very good song. I wonder how many Wallflowers fans even know who Bob Dylan is.”
I mean, come on. There’s downplaying the impact of your father’s musical career on your own, and then there’s the kind of outright horse-wearing-blinders approach that only Tea Party members can portray. (Editor’s note: Just once, we here at The Inept Owl would like Darby to get through an entire review without taking a detour that gets somebody pissed at us. Seriously. Just once.)
But after Jakob Dylan earned some mainstream success with the Wallflowers’ “Bringing Down the Horse,” followed by three more albums (at least, that’s what Wikipedia says; pretty sure those albums went right to the $5 bin at Sam Goody), Dylan decided to strike out on his own with a solo career… presumably because playing under the name “Jakob Dylan” instead of “The Wallflowers” distanced himself even further from the Dylan name. I mean, the best way to stay away from your dad’s influence is to make sure you put that last name front and center, right?
You might have missed his first solo album, “Seeing Things.” Unless you listen to the Coffeehouse channel on SiriusXM, in which case you heard its single “Something Good This Way Comes” until you wanted to pour Drano down Dylan’s throat. Which took about three listens.
However, this second album will appeal more heavily to the masses. First off, Dylan’s signature nasal sound (which is absolutely NOTHING like his dad’s sound, incidentally) will appeal to the sort of people who believe the white-washed, trilling sound found in every American Idol singer to be the highest of talents. The instrumentation of the album, with a preponderance of bass, steel guitar and banjo that will draw hip-hop fans, country music buffs and bluegrass devotees, should garner further acclaim. And there’s no harmonica, so this is definitely not Bob Dylan Music.
Nope. Not even a little. You’d hardly know there’s any Robert Allan Zimmerman DNA in this album. (Err, wait. That sounds bad, doesn’t it?)
Song you should pay $1 for on iTunes, rather than downloading for free: “Nothing But the Whole Wide World” is already getting some airplay… and it makes me want to crack my skull against the nearest sharp edge. Repeatedly. Give “Down on Our Own Shield” a try instead. It will give you a feel for the rest of the album, but it won’t make you want to hurt yourself after 30 seconds of listening.
Oh, and it sounds nothing like Bob Dylan.
Rating:Three tangles of blue yarn. (Oh, wait. Wallflowers fans won’t get that joke. Crap.)