Dylan Infidels: Faith and Fury 39 Years On

For dedicated followers of Bob Dylan, today marks a significant anniversary: 39 years since the release of the often-underrated album Infidels. This record saw Dylan collaborating closely with luminaries like Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits and Mick Taylor, formerly of the Rolling Stones, alongside the formidable rhythm section of Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare.

Infidels is frequently perceived as a sharp turn away from Dylan’s preceding “Christian trilogy” (Slow Train Coming, Saved, and Shot of Love), suggesting a departure from his overt Christian faith. However, this interpretation misses the mark considerably. While the album title might initially hint at abandoning belief, the crucial detail is that “infidels” is plural. A more accurate reading suggests the title reflects the challenges of navigating a world steeped in various forms of unbelief.

Cover art for the Bob Dylan Infidels album featuring a portrait of Dylan

Indeed, the Dylan Infidels album delves into multiple facets of infidelity. There’s religious infidelity, powerfully explored in the searing track “Man of Peace,” one of Dylan’s standout compositions. Economic infidelity surfaces in the anti-capitalist and anti-globalist “Union Sundown.” Furthermore, infidelity in international relations is tackled in the pro-Zionist anthem “Neighborhood Bully.”

Biblical Threads Woven Through Infidels

Christian and biblical allusions are prominent right from the opening track, “Jokerman.”

In successive verses, Dylan sings:

You’re a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds
Manipulator of crowds, you’re a dream twister
You’re going to Sodom and Gomorrah
But what do you care? Ain’t nobody there would want to marry your sister
Friend to the martyr, a friend to the woman of shame
You look into the fiery furnace, see the rich man without any name

And:

Well, the Book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy
The law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers
In the smoke of the twilight on a milk-white steed
Michelangelo indeed could’ve carved out your features
Resting in the fields, far from the turbulent space
Half asleep near the stars with a small dog licking your face

These references continue into the second track, the excellent “Sweetheart Like You“:

You know, news of you has come down the line
Even before ya came in the door
They say in your father’s house, there’s many mansions
Each one of them got a fireproof floor
Snap out of it, baby, people are jealous of you
They smile to your face, but behind your back they hiss
What’s a sweetheart like you doin’ in a dump like this?

(This same song notably includes a sharp allusion combining Dr. Johnson and Augustinian political thought: “They say that patriotism is the last refuge/To which a scoundrel clings/Steal a little and they throw you in jail/Steal a lot and they make you king.”)

The biblical echoes persist on the third track, “Neighborhood Bully“:

Every empire that’s enslaved him is gone
Egypt and Rome, even the great Babylon
He’s made a garden of paradise in the desert sand
In bed with nobody, under no one’s command
He’s the neighborhood bully

Now his holiest books have been trampled upon
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health
He’s the neighborhood bully

Perhaps the most explicit exploration of religious themes comes in “Man of Peace.” Covering similar ground to The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil,” albeit unsympathetically, the song examines the deceptive guises Satan might adopt.

From the opening verse:

Look out your window, baby, there’s a scene you’d like to catch
The band is playing “Dixie,” a man got his hand outstretched
Could be the Führer
Could be the local priest
You know sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace

To one near the end:

He’s a great humanitarian, he’s a great philanthropist
He knows just where to touch you, honey, and how you like to be kissed
He’ll put both his arms around you
You can feel the tender touch of the beast
You know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace

Finally, the opaque yet compelling “I and I” engages with both the Rastafarian concept of divinity within all individuals and several biblical motifs. The title itself is a play on the lex talionis (“an eye for an eye”) and references God’s self-revelation to Moses (“I and I/One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives,” repeated in the chorus).

The song begins:

Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed
Look how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams
In another lifetime she must have owned the world, or been faithfully wed
To some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams

The latter lines clearly allude to King David, bringing to mind Leonard Cohen’s famous “Hallelujah.” Clinton Heylin, in Still on the Road: The Songs of Bob Dylan, 1974-2006, recounts a relevant anecdote: Cohen told Dylan it took him about two years to write “Hallelujah.” When Cohen asked Dylan how long “I and I” took, Dylan replied, “Fifteen minutes.”

The lex talionis pun is directly addressed in the song’s third verse:

Took an untrodden path once, where the swift don’t win the race
It goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth
Took a stranger to teach me, to look into justice’s beautiful face
And to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth

The Ghosts of Infidels: Notable Omissions

The story of the Dylan Infidels sessions is almost as fascinating for what was excluded as for what made the final cut. Two exceptional songs, “Blind Willie McTell” and “Foot of Pride“—the latter another track rich with biblical scale, opening with “Like the lion tears the flesh off of a man/So can a woman who passes herself off as a male”—were left off the album. These outtakes and alternative versions can be explored on The Bootleg Series, Vol. 1-3: Rare & Unreleased 1961-1991 and Springtime in New York: The Bootleg Series, Vol. 16 (1980-1985). These collections hold immense treasures; Springtime in New York, for instance, features a version of “I and I” that arguably surpasses the official album version in every way.

Conclusion

Contrary to common assumptions, Bob Dylan’s Infidels is far from a renunciation of faith. Instead, it’s a complex, layered examination of unbelief in its various forms, deeply interwoven with biblical imagery and narratives. From “Jokerman” to “I and I,” the album showcases Dylan’s continued engagement with profound spiritual and moral questions, backed by stellar musicianship. Even the omitted tracks testify to the creative richness of the dylan infidels period. On its 39th anniversary, Infidels deserves recognition not as a departure, but as a powerful, multifaceted statement within Dylan’s vast artistic journey. Give it a listen; its depth and artistry remain compelling.