In April 1991, Dylan told interviewer Paul Zollo that "there was a time when the songs would come three or four at the same time, but those days are long gone...Once in a while, the odd song will come to me like a bulldog at the garden gate and demand to be written. But most of them are rejected out of my mind right away. You get caught up in wondering if anyone really needs to hear it. Maybe a person gets to the point where they have written enough songs. Let someone else write them".[4]
Those records were made a long time ago, and you know, truthfully, records that were made in that day and age all were good. They all had some magic to them because the technology didn't go beyond what the artist was doing. It was a lot easier to get excellence back in those days on a record than it is now.....The high priority is technology now. It's not the artist or the art. It's the technology that is coming through. That's what makes Time Out of Mind... it doesn't take itself seriously, but then again, the sound is very significant to that record. If that record was made more haphazardly, it wouldn't have sounded that way. It wouldn't have had the impact that it did.... There wasn't any wasted effort on Time Out of Mind and I don't think there will be on any more of my records.
Time Out of Mind
A second outtake, "Dreamin' of You"', also released on Tell Tale Signs, was unveiled for the first time as a free download on Dylan's website. Its lyrics were partly adapted into "Standing in the Doorway", though the melody and music are completely different. The music video, which starred Harry Dean Stanton, premiered on Amazon.com.
On past albums, some fans have criticized Dylan for some of the creative decisions made with his albums, particularly with song selection. Time Out of Mind was no different except this time the criticism came from colleagues who were disappointed to see their personal favorites left on the shelf. When Dylan accepted the Grammy Award for Album of the Year, he mentioned Columbia Records chairman Don Ienner, who "convinced me to put [the album] out, although his favorite songs aren't on it".[7]
Beside being ranked as number 410 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time, in both Pazz & Jop's critics poll[47] and Uncut magazine,[48] Time Out of Mind was voted as album of the year. The album was also included in the book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die.[49] It was voted number 652 in the third edition of Colin Larkin's All Time Top 1000 Albums (2000).[50]
Hip hop group Public Enemy referenced the album's title in their 2007 Dylan tribute song "Long and Whining Road": "From basement tapes, beyond them dollars and cents / Changing of the guards spent, now where the hell the majors went? / Most of their time out of mind, hating my mess-age rhymes".[52]
At the 1998 Grammy Awards, Time Out of Mind won in the categories of Album of the Year, Best Contemporary Folk Album and, for "Cold Irons Bound", Best Male Rock Vocal Performance. At the awards ceremony Dylan performed the song "Love Sick". During the performance, Michael Portnoy, an American multimedia artist and choreographer, ripped off his shirt, ran up next to Dylan, and started dancing and contorting with the words "Soy Bomb" painted in black across his chest. Dylan shot an alarmed glance at Portnoy, but carried on playing. Portnoy continued to dance for about 40 seconds, until another of the background dancers escorted him off stage.[55]
The movie starts with Gere's character, George, being surprised while squatting in an apartment. The building manager (Steve Buscemi, one of many name actors who play one or two scenes in the film) reluctantly tells him that he can't stay there anymore. George says he's waiting on "her." In time we understand that he's talking about his daughter Maggie (Jena Malone), who kicked George out, again for unspecified reasons, though probably for drinking (in one brief sequence where George comes into a bit of cash, he spends it on a six pack and drinks it all at once). Eventually he ends up at a bleak, racially tense homeless shelter where he's befriended by Dixon (Ben Vereen), a former jazz man who has a dozen synonyms for every noun and speaks in the relentlessly upbeat cadences of a scam artist even when he's being entirely sincere. He has more experiences, and while we feel sure that the movie is edging toward a destination, we can tell by the tone and style that it's not going to be a typically upbeat one, with lessons learned and problems solved.
Some of the most unusual and startling moments in the movie come about because Moverman and cinematographer Bobby Bukowski capture a moment by choosing a shot and staying with it. A lot of times they park the camera on Gere's face in closeup (sometimes head-on, sometimes in profile) as he tries not to let on that he's affected by a loud drama occurring adjacent to his silent one: a man having a meltdown while security guards try to escort him away from the scene of a fracas; a bunkmate at the shelter talking about the Bible and his job. In one of the film's many, extraordinary one-take scenes, we watch through a window covered by a metal screen while George eats a meal at a long table in the shelter's mess hall. Suddenly the man next to him reacts with alarm, then stands up and takes his plate and walks away as a mouse scampers across the table. George keeps eating.
There's a moment where George goes to spy on Maggie at her bartender job. He stands out on the street for a bit, watching her through a window, then approaches a young man who's standing on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette and talking on his cell phone to a young woman he hopes will have sex with him. Moverman gives us about a minute of this other man's story (revealed via the one-way conversation) while George waits for the right moment to approach and ask if the man could please go inside and deliver some photos to Maggie. It's the sort of scene that happens all the time in cities (though more often the request is, "Can you spare a quarter?") without anyone thinking about the sorrow that underlies it, and the inequity it reveals.
Moverman, the director of the Iraq war drama "The Messenger" and the cop corruption thriller "Rampart," is three for three now. This is the best movie he's made, and the least beholden to commercial filmmaking norms. There are times when it gets close to turning into an American version of the sorts of stark yet tender dramas made by the Dardenne brothers in Belgium. What's the commercial value of a film like this? Probably nada, unless Gere and Vereen pick up a few critics' awards. But a big part of the film's power comes from the feeling that the filmmakers don't care about any of that. "Time out of Mind" seems to have been undertaken for no other reason than that the filmmakers and actors believed in the truth of the material. How many American movies can you say that about?
The mystery woman is grabbing tri-keys when Rhade interrupts. She identifies herself as Lisset, and claims to be a Collector, but Rhade is suspicious. Her eyes glow red, and a fight ensues, during which the bowl of tri-keys is spilled on the floor. Rhade uses one of them as a ninja throwing star, and cuts Lisset's arm, but she overpowers him and takes advantage of the time to duck into the chamber with Dylan and Amira.
This fic has been a thorn in my side since late October, and it floundered for a solid two months at 6k and then was finished in about 22 days. It's something I wanted to do for a long time and wanted to finish because it combined a lot of my favorite tropes, and I hope you like it!
"This is normal," Pidge assures her, adjusting their glasses. Keith resists the urge to shoot them a grateful look, since they've successfully diverted the attention onto the whole group instead of just Keith and Lance. "They wouldn't know what to do if they weren't arguing about something." Keith changes his mind about the grateful look immediately.
"A glimpse into the future," Klessia says, and closes all but one of her eyes. The one in the middle, the largest one, turns completely dark, like it's absorbing all of the light around it. Keith feels a hooking sensation in his chest, like someone has reached into his ribcage and pulled at whatever they could grab -- he gasps, and the sensation travels up to his head, to his brain, to his mind and he shouts and he hears Lance shouting and he --
"What the fuck, Lance," Keith protests, trying to pull away, but then he catches sight of what Lance noticed. There's a plain silver ring, set with a small blue gem, sitting innocently on his finger. Lance is staring at it with wide eyes. Keith's stomach twists sharply at the sight, at how comfortable it feels around his finger. It feels like something he's worn for a very long time.
There's a tablet sitting on the corner of the nightstand next to the bed. Keith grabs it and pushes past all of the notifications to find the date and time -- it's about eight in the morning of their artificial day, and also apparently ten years into the future.
The only thing keeping him from thinking this is some fucked up hallucination is the fact that honestly, he's been expecting something like this to happen -- not the whole married to Lance thing, or even just that he'd end up in his future self's body, but the time travel thing had been something he and Pidge had discussed the probability of several times. Combine that with the unpredictable nature of alien evolution and Keith is honestly just lucky that he hasn't ended up in some kind of dystopian future, although there could still be a chance of that being true.
"We don't know what might happen if we told someone," Keith points out. "Klessia didn't explain anything, and if this is the future, or some kind of parallel world, or whatever, I'd rather not fuck it up. Or risk people thinking our future selves have gone insane. There's too many variables involved in time travel to risk it right now." 2ff7e9595c
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