In the summer of 1979, Bob Dylan dropped a Christian rock album. Slow Train Coming eschews any moral ambiguity to preach about good and evil, God and the devil, for followers of Christ and those yet unsaved. He would tour for the next few years with a full repertoire of new spiritual music backed by a gospel band. This was no joke, no aesthetic pose. Bob Dylan was Born Again.
Musically Slow Train Coming was no Second Coming. Sleekly produced with a white-funk sheen, it sounds like Steely Dan fronted by Jimmy Buffet. Some fans were baffled, if not outright hostile. Now I don’t presume any serious Dylan fan to be closed minded. They’d followed him from folkie to rock poet, on the through the inconsistent ‘70s. Why not Christian rock? Theology was always part of his music. 1965’s “Gates Of Eden” contrasted the madness of human affairs with the serenity of what must lie beyond. But “Gates Of Eden” is true shaman’s work, all about the experience, the flow of wild imagery unique to peak Dylan. Slow Train Coming feels more pedestrian. The songs just preach, with little room for interpretation. We get it - be saved or be damned.
Christian Dylan has an answer for this. He would say that fancy poetry just masks a simple truth - you gotta serve somebody, meaning God or the devil. If you really listen and give this material a chance, that starts to make some sense. As one gets older, mortality takes on real dimensions, and responsibilities greater weight. You can’t be the star athlete, or the prettiest model, or the visionary young poet forever. So who will you be, and how much agency do you have in this decision? What concessions should be made for your career? What about the world that won’t ever change no matter how many protest songs point a better way? This music is quite substantive, in its own way. It’s not really about God, so much as finding ways to live a better personal life. “When are you gonna wake up and strengthen the things that remain?”
1980’s Saved doubled down on all things religious, down to the TV evangelist cover art. We can only imagine how this one looked in record stores next to new wave, pop, and punk. Dylan was effectively exiling himself from mainstream music. Still - I prefer the hardcore gospel sound of this album over Slow Train Coming. Dylan often relies on simple chord progressions, like the 12-bar blues in so much of his modern work. But Saved is something else, full on tent revival music, with dynamics and inventive musical turns. The lyrics also seem more personal. “Saving Grace” is all about being humble and accepting of one’s life, and grateful for opportunities that often go unnoticed. It does all this without drifting into sentimentality. It’s one of his finest songs.
Much of this great spirit was poured into the performances on tours. Some fans were not crazy about all new religious stuff at the expense of the old favorites. But I love the recording of “When He Returns” from the Warfield Theater, where the line “don’t you cry and don’t you die/and don’t you burn” is greeted with enthusiastic howls. As if the audience is recognizing that it’s still Bob Dylan, doing what he’s always done. In the early ‘60s his truth-to-power sermonizing won him his fanbase. Now they were becoming the establishment, and he was trying to keep them in check. While checking himself too - this is the key. Preachy as it is, this material is full of self-examination, a hard look in the mirror at one’s own soul.
These songs also retain his trademark wit and weirdness. They can be charmingly conversational. Trouble No More, the gospel era Bootleg Series set, exhaustively compiles live tracks and many songs not included on the albums. “Ain’t Gonna Go To Hell For Anybody” is the wackiest of all, with Dylan going full Righteous Gemstones, backed by a gospel chorus, collection plates going around. Here at Bob Dylan Is Weird headquarters, it’s one of our favorites.
1981’s Shot Of Love is seen as the final in his Christian album trilogy. It made some move back to a “proper” career, with less emphasis on the strictly spiritual stuff. The two overtly religious songs speak of some denouement. “Property Of Jesus” is defensive and bitter, without the charm of the fiery gospel era. “Every Grain Of Sand” is more illuminating - you can sense a change, just a whisper of doubt, evoking some lonely night when the parishioners have all gone home and the preacher is left with his own questions.
Within a few years, the gospel era material would be abandoned. And though fans and critics were happy to have him “back,” Dylan was creatively adrift for most of the ‘80s. By the end of the decade he was piecing together bad albums of originals and covers. One thing we know about the gospel years - he was inspired. And this I would say is the secret to understanding them. We can estimate somewhere close to fifty songs were written in about two years, good songs going to new places, propelled by energy and conviction. A great artist follows the muse, wherever it might want to go. Yes, his religious conversion was genuine, but I don’t think he would have so fully embraced it had it not invigorated his pen.