Criminally overlooked, to say the least, Bob Dylan’s work on Infidels is charming and timeless. Just two years on from the end of his religious trilogy and Dylan parts ways somewhat with the theology that guided his previous instalments. That shift is a small one, from religious to political, but it is enough to mark an exceptionally interesting piece that gets to the core of a new sound with the help of some former collaborators. Mark Knopfler joining on as guitarist and producer for Infidels is as exciting an addition as the opening bars of Jokerman, which sets Infidels off to a solid start that blossoms from there.
Although opening track Jokerman needs some lyrical support from time to time, Knopfler cuts through with some great guitar work. Slow and methodical drums crack through the layers to give that support to Dylan’s accessible lyrics. There is a level of dated sarcasm to this opening track that, more than anything, cements it as a very early art piece of the 1980s. Much of Infidels feels that way but can be overcome somewhat. Neighbourhood Bully has that feel to it too. A feeling that cannot quite be placed but for those that feel it, a sense of fleeting meaning is latched to Dylan’s work here. That is no problem, the tracks are fun as a time capsule for the past, but they lack the longevity of the usual protest track. Such specifics are commented on, from imported consumer goods to crowd manipulators. Weird enough to work, broad enough to forget.
Because these are protest tracks after all. At the very least they are political. Except for License to Kil, which is just as smooth as it is fantastic. This does feel closer to a Dire Straits piece helmed by Dylan than a Dylan piece featuring members of the Walk of Life masters. Tracks like Union Sundown feel Dylan-esque in their lyrical qualities but with riffs that feel closer to what appears on Money for Nothing than anything else. An exceptional blend, but there is no chance of escaping the great charms that Knopfler’s larger influence has over Slow Train Coming. If there were any doubt over how well that style worked though, Man of Peace provides the clarity. Still, clarity may not be found for those expecting Blind Willie McTell, in its place the likes of Union Sundown and the shimmering effectiveness of I and I.
Without a doubt one of the most enjoyable albums in Dylan’s discography, Infidels has great qualities to it that settle in well. It cannot quite shake that fleeting quality, but even then it is a cementing understanding of where Dylan was lyrically when recording this. Despite the strong collection of tracks here, the omissions, including Blind Willie McTell, are absolutely barbaric. Although Knopfler called Dylan’s musical ability “limited”, that much doesn’t show on Infidels. Or anywhere else in his music. An odd comment for an interesting album filled with strange choices, track cuts and Dire Straits riffs bleeding into the very core of a piece so clued up on political protests and religious symbolism.
