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"Love And Theft", Track #5

NINA: This is the blues, folks--ravaged in the corn, the blues that is never precious and never richly tragic. What on earth did anyone think he'd sound like at this age? You thought he'd cough up another Desolation Row? You love him, because he has never been false--he's been weak and he's been appalling, he's gone through the motions maybe, but when the shite hits the fan, he is what he is at every moment. So what could we think he's be at this age?? Graceful? Warm? Reflective? No of course not--he is sinister and dry and terrfifyingly alive. Pitiless. Not easy, not closure, not ravishing. And what the hell else do we think he'd be giving us now? "I tell myself something's coming/But it never does" This is nearly unbearable, but it's true, and I'll take it. Wouldn't have it any other way. (05/14/05)