Album Review: I’m The Man, Thomas by Bob Dylan
Alright, so here’s the deal—Bob Dylan’s I’m The Man, Thomas is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. It’s like a late-night chat with an old friend who’s got stories to tell but doesn’t need to shout about it. Released under the Russian label “буд кон,” this thing blends genres in a way only Dylan can pull off. Folk, gospel, bluegrass, and even some funk vibes? Yeah, it shouldn’t work—but somehow, it does.
First off, let’s talk about the title track, “I’m The Man, Thomas.” This song hits different. From the moment Dylan starts singing, there’s this raw honesty that grabs hold of you. You don’t just hear the words; you feel them. He sounds like he’s sitting right across from you, spilling his guts over a cup of coffee. The gospel undertones give it this soulful weight, while the bluegrass instrumentation keeps it grounded. There’s something almost haunting about how he repeats the phrase—I’m not sure if he’s declaring himself or questioning who Thomas even is. Either way, it sticks with you long after the record stops spinning.
Then there’s another standout (though I won’t spoil all the tracks). Let’s call it… well, okay, I’ll admit I forgot its name for a sec because my brain was still stuck on “Thomas.” But trust me, this other tune has this funky groove that feels totally out of left field. Like, wait—was that a bassline trying to break free? It’s playful yet serious at the same time, which is peak Dylan energy. These two tracks alone make the album worth your time, though every song adds a layer to the story.
What gets me most is how unpolished everything feels. It’s messy in the best possible way. You can tell Dylan wasn’t trying to impress anyone—he just wanted to create something real. And honestly, isn’t that what music should be about? No frills, no shiny production tricks—just heart.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this album made me realize how little I know about Russia’s music scene. Why did Dylan release this through a Russian label? Was it random, or was there more to it? Maybe someday we’ll find out. Until then, I’ll keep spinning I’m The Man, Thomas, letting its weirdness wash over me. Because sometimes life throws curveballs, and instead of dodging them, you just nod and say, “Yeah, Bob, I get it.”
So grab a copy—or stream it, whatever—and let yourself get lost in this strange, beautiful world. Just don’t blame me when you start humming “I’m The Man, Thomas” at 3 AM.
