The Wind - Zevon, Warren (CD 2003)

A collection of songs that gives us Zevon in most of his guises: gonzo rocker, balladeer, and satirist.

This CD opens with a wry tune called "Dirty Life and Times," which sets a tone of less than mournful recapitulation, Zevon's point-of-view being reflective but not at all regretful. Relative to what we know of the singer/songwriter's past, present and future, a perfect opening, letting us know that he is still in the game.

"Disorder in the House," follows, and, yes, just behind Zevon's shoulder, adding intermittent though enthusiastic backing vocals, that's Bruce Springsteen. The Boss also handles lead guitar, offering up a searing ending to this rocker. The song summed up Zevon's physical and mental state at the time of its recording. He was obviously, well, DYING, but more so, and who would expect less, he was in the midst of flurry of emotions: grief, sadness, hope, desperation, etc. The song gives testament to his resolve amidst that chaos.

As for the next song, Zevon's cover of "Knockin' on Heaven's Door"? Well, it is my personal opinion this was Zevon's unrelenting sense of humor and irony on display. Again, relative to his condition, who better to sing the song than one who expected to in Heaven's neighborhood sooner than later?

"Numb as a Statue," a steady rocker, describes one's emotional state while under the effects of medication: wanting for to feel the proper emotion, yet unable to due to the varying effects of prescription drugs. In his final months Zevon was taking Methadone on a fairly regular basis, and but so though he was intellectually able to recognize how he should feel about some things, the drug numbed those feelings, leaving him to want for the emotions being displayed by those around him.

"She's Too Good for Me" is one man's lament that though he is loved by a woman, he is not confused or misled into thinking that they are the perfect match. In fact, he boldly declares his knowledge that it is he who is the lesser of the two. One could say that the lyrics show a man with "low-esteem" but, in fact, they merely show us a man who has a good grasp on reality; a man who knows his limits.

"Prison Grove," a somber chant of a song, offers up backing vocals from a host of Zevon's buddies: Jackson Browne, Timothy Schmidt, B-Bob Thornton, and Don Henley. If I'm not mistaken, Ry Cooder handles lead guitar too. The song is a moody piece, one you might expect to hear along the roadside being sung by a string of inmates chained together under a broiling sun.

"The Rest of the Night" echoes Zevon's earlier party song "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead." It's a devil-may-care drinking and partying song to put on when you need a fourth wind to get you through to daylight. No doubt, Zevon's health problems in mind, one wonders if he might have foregone the "meds" for a day or two for to endeavor a drug and boozed-fueled partying rampage. Certainly, with things being as they were--and I wish they weren't--he could have made a run at living (or dieing) up to the earlier song, putting his head to rest for one last time in the process.

"Please Stay" is nothing more than a midnight plea: stay with me. We've all been there, in need of someone, maybe anyone, to hang with us until our grim mood passes over.

Ever the battler (or was it just his solid grasp of reality?), Zevon's incorrigible nature showed in the stellar "Rub Me Raw," an up tempo, razor blade of a song that leaves it all on the table. One gets the feeling that although Zevon accepted his fate, and the prognosis that sealed it, his wish was for a cure, if not for the disease then for the reaction it caused in others. Enough of the pity: bring me the cure!!!

The last track on the album, "Keep Me In Your Heart," isn't so much the plea that it's title suggests, but much more of an unapologetic wish that his loved ones reconsider him once in awhile. It is one of the more endearing songs that Zevon has ever written, or sung.

Overly, "The Wind" was a gutsy performance, put forth by a considerate sometimes obstinant but always provocative man who walked the walk up until the day he died. There's no pervasive gloominess here, just a collection of heartfelt songs about love, life and death.