Seventies @ MindSay

John Dyer: The New Prophet

John Dyer’s third solo album, “gostayplay,” is a remarkable collection of anthems, odes, and moments of expression he sees daily.  “gostayplay” is a symbol of youth’s naivety.  His elder, Bob Dylan, did all the same things; but now, Dyer’s generation needs its prophet.  No one has yet to make music for America’s teens and twentysomethings like Dylan did.  His art is his cover art, his words, his arrangements and his instruments.  Through this CD, this budding musician has a prophecy to share.

"gostayplay" is Dyer's vault: some of the earlier songs are more experimental than his later solid pieces.  His ruminations, like on nature in "Moving Fast" from 1993, are what keep you listening.  The lyrics read like a philosophy, expressing his strong belief of art as a transcendentalist.  His music takes you across time, converging an eighteenth century art song and joining a southern folk work with some seventies rock.  Since he knows how to make it blend, we have an unusual sound that is prophetic.  Dyer’s sound is so true to his heart that the listener is called to embrace this soulful work.

The opening song “airtime” is destined for popularity.  It’s catchy, emotional, and altogether a fresh fusion song.  Though listeners can’t escape the jazzy art folk sound, they’ll delight in its complacency.  Yet, overall, this light song is in great contrast philosophically with the rest of the album.  “airtime” is a sell-out recording that gives and pleases.  He presents what he sees and has learned first; the prophecy comes next.

If a song is not specifically dedicated like “Nick,” a beautiful homage to Nick Drake, a friend and artist who passed on, then he calls for something universal in his pieces.  Each song is dedicated to our thoughts, for what we feel that calls us.  Dyer is the classic artist in this sense.  He portrays the world in its mass chaos - one of the most evident expressions in his songs - but brings the world together with the revelation that our instant gratification lifestyles maybe is wrong, after all.  He calls for a universal unity. 

Dyer’s predecessor Bob Dylan is thick skinned and a behemoth.  Dylan’s music takes no innocent stance.  For example, "Tambourine Man,” an oft-played accomplishment, is a symbolic ode to Dylan’s self-conscious generation, who grew up with the Vietnam War and common trifles.  Though body counts, certainly, were not trifles: the news reduced brothers, sisters, fathers, cousins, friends to numbers.  “Tambourine Man” asked for national unity and a share of peace.  Unfortunately, in all anger against the war, his followers naively developed instead a culture that is materialistic.  All they knew was how to consume and collect objects, shiny trinkets, cars, and greenhouse gases.  Folk-rock, before Dylan, was left for the Beats.  However, his appealing lyrics bashed that period’s pop culture.  Andy Warhol’s orgies of art, television news anchors, bohemia, and drugs were hunter’s game.  Additionally, he emphasized his view of corrupt power in the states.  Dylan riled the chaos by singing what people wanted to hear . . .  so how could Dylan not continue to preach an anti-war message?  His fame was developing and it just so happened that the music was marketable.

Dyer believes there is a unity if we simply believe in love, peace, and karma.  In “Ocean of You,” dedicated ‘for Nancy’, a former love interest we assume, Dyer describes Nancy as a natural element.  To him, she is an ocean, and he sees her as clear blue water, as vast, as, even, complex: just the way all humans are.  Dyer describes her longingly with the slow strums of the guitar along with the whisper the other instruments make in the background.  He doesn’t make a spectacular metaphor with it, because Dyer is a realist.  But how Dylan’s activism makes you jump up and cheer, Dyer, instead, comforts and heals.  The song “Surely It’ll Shine Through,” is sweet and encouraging, and simple in structure.  The music isn’t as sweet as the lyrics; it’s rough and as folksy as a hymn from the Deep South, or something Faulkner would tell you. 

His way with words shapes the songs universal messages.  Don't forget the unnoticed like the simple people who can unite a small community or who complete one as a person, like a parent, sibling, or lover.  The small have a lasting impact is a familiar adage for this sort of song.  However, Dyer's major statement reminds us to think about Nick's "thin skin,” that is, the blanket over his soul.  It was the skin that killed him.  “Nick” poses the question: do the innocent make it in the long run?  And, in these troubled times, it makes you reflect...Are our children, who are growing up to be instantly gratified, going to be safe?  (At one point in his career, Dylan prophesized the same thing – yet Dylan, the preacher, sold his words, which made him, regrettably, more of a televangelist.)  Dyer’s subtle voice calls every man for himself.  I don’t doubt that Dyer is the next Dylan.  Let’s hope that his innocence evolves into maturity, instead of his innocence maintaining immaturity.