" data-original-title="" title="">Bob Dylan's The Philosophy of Modern Song is a labor of love by a music lover of unremitting passion. As such, it is hard to put it down once the reading commences, if for no other reason than proceeding through the sixty-some essays provides a rush similar to that of poring through Jack Kerouac's On The Road (Viking Press, 1957). At times the headlong thrust of the prose also recalls the very first Dylan book, Tarantula (Macmillan & Scribner, 1971). But, as filtered through the lens of music, this material is far more focused. The verbiage is as dense with unbridled emotion as with fierce intellect and it constitutes a dual consistency of tone over the course of its three hundred thirty some pages that prompts thoughts about exactly how this collection was put together.

Certainly more than a decade-long gestation period is plenty of time to select and finalize the songs, choose the photos and secure the rights to publish, then design the integration of same that is so eye-pleasing. But that process still begs the question of the actual process that the Nobel Laureate used to write these incisive essays along with the more extemporaneous content that often accompanies them: he simultaneously maintains the airs of deeply thoughtful contemplation and abiding spontaneity.

Of course, the mystery arising from the process of authorship for The Philosophy of Modern Song is in keeping with Bob Dylan's body of work as a songwriter, recording artist, live performer and cultural icon. It is not quite fair to say that "nothing is revealed" here, as in "The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest" from John Wesley Harding (Columbia, 1968), but the author certainly doesn't explain everything.

There is no foreword or introduction to outline the concept of the book (even though the very last sentence might suffice). Except for a dedication to singer/songwriter