The ever-changing, ever-surprising Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan has connected with me more than any musical artist. And that's why I wish I had a better story about the first time I heard him. It wasn't "Like a Rolling Stone" or "Tangled Up in Blue" that first got me interested in Dylan and his music. No, it was a silly track on the first Traveling Wilburys album, "Dirty World." So, yes, my first experience with Dylan wasn't a song with "Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse; when you ain't got nothin' you got nothin' to lose," but rather a song that says "he loves your bigger refrigerator." Not every introduction is a classic. But Dylan and his music have long been an area of affection and debate for me. I'd bristle at my friends who made fun of Dylan's voice, and his sometimes incomprehensible reading of his own lyrics. "Listen closely," I'd tell them. Listen to the original recording of "My Back Pages," a song about self-doubt and reflection, and yet the same conviction that propelled Dylan to superstardom. Dylan's voice is rough on the recording, but every word is clear. Listen to the albums from the years Dylan was recording in Nashville. The first time I heard those, I didn't believe it was Dylan. His rough, powerful vocals were gone. In their place was an almost high-pitched country croon. But somehow, Dylan pulled it off. The thing about Bob Dylan is he hasn't really had one career, but rather, many different ones. He's been thought of as a folk singer, then as a writer and performer of protest anthems. He's been a pariah in the folk community after going electric. He's been a group member. He was in the Traveling Wilburys, and he wanted to join the Grateful Dead. He's been an icon for most of the last 30 years. But unlike so many of his contemporaries, he's still around, still producing. And still surprising his fans. It was his latest album "Rough and Rowdy Ways" that hammered this home for me. And it was the record's first track, "I Contained Multitudes," that really connected. Add another to the many voices of Bob Dylan. Dylan's vocal on the track is more reserved, almost timid. But when I heard it, Dylan's pronunciations and singing style reminded me of the French composer Charles Trenet, and his 1946 recording of "La mer" ("Beyond the Sea"). (NOTE: I'm hardly a collector of foreign standards. The song opened one of my favorite films, Steve Martin's 1991 "LA Story," which I've watched roughly 80 times). The rest of the album is strong. My favorite song is "Key West (Philosopher Pirate)," which speaks of the almost Fountain of Youth quality of south Florida. It's practically hypnotic. "Key West" is more than nine minutes long, but the following song — the album's closer — "Murder Most Foul," is even longer. It contains reflections on the assassination of John F. Kennedy, and passing pop culture icons. That song is more than 17 minutes long. Even as a devoted Dylan fan, I thought it was a bit long and kind of lost itself. Not that such criticism — or any criticism — bothers Dylan. I saw him perform at Bowling Green in 2013. He said nothing to the audience, performed classic songs in different styles, and never introduced the other musicians to the crowd. It took me almost two minutes to realize I was hearing "Tangled Up in Blue." By that time, Dylan was in his early 70s and not playing guitar on stage. I wondered how much longer he'd keep working. Seven years later, there's an album with new tracks and, yes, a new voice. Thirty-two years after my introduction to his music, Dylan continues to surprise. Another introduction.