Out of Dad's Shadow, Wallflower Dylan Flourishes

2.23.97 By By Edna Gundersen for USA TODAY

Outsider finds a bond

Bob Dylan sparked a youthquake with Positively Fourth Street. A generation later, his son penned a street tune that provoked a similar generational spasm.

Jakob Dylan's 6th Avenue Heartache, up for two Grammys, seduced radio and fueled album sales with its poignant tale of a brooding outsider.

The singer/songwriter for the Wallflowers wrote the song in 1992 while attending the Parsons School of Design in New York. From his apartment window, he studied a man living on the street.

"He stood on the steps every day, singing songs that I knew, songs by older groups," Dylan says. "He had pots and pans and clothes with him. Before I moved, he disappeared and never came back for his stuff. I wondered a lot about what happened to him. Obviously, I wasn't a homeless person, and we didn't relate in terms of material possessions. But he made sense to me, and I felt a connection to him."

That connection was a shared sense of disconnection. Knowing his mediocre grades would not get him into a fine college, Dylan decided to hone his visual arts skills. But he felt alienated in New York and missed his L.A. music circle.

"I thought the only possible way to get into a school was to paint pictures," he says. "I tried to convince myself that art college was something I wanted. But it wasn't. I knew I made the wrong choice the minute I got there."

Dylan didn't see magic in 6th Avenue Heartache but his manager did. "From Day 1 he said, 'That's the song that's going to get this group off the ground.' He never let me do a show without playing it."Being labeled "the next Bob Dylan" can be both a curse and a blessing for any gifted songwriter, especially one from the same gene pool.

Jakob Dylan, 26, spent his early career quietly toiling in the shadow of his iconic father, arguably the most influential songwriter of the 20th century. Rather than hitch a bandwagon to Dad's star, Jakob downplayed his lineage and refused the perks and professional courtesies afforded by his celebrity bloodline. Instead of brandishing his surname on marquees, he formed the Wallflowers in 1989 and ducked all interviews when the band released its 1992 self-titled debut.

Today, he warily faces a reporter. Outfitted in a knit cap, dark, nondescript duds and brown shoes, the goateed Dylan ambles into his manager's office with the invisible aura of a mailroom clerk. He flashes a broad smile, but in his impossibly blue eyes lies the steely dread of those inevitable questions about Life With Father.

For someone trying to blend into the surrounding musical scenery, Jakob Dylan is becoming a radiant rising son. The Wallflowers' second album, Bringing Down the Horse, is No. 14 and climbing in Billboard nearly a year after its release. First single 6th Avenue Heartache is nominated for two Grammys: rock song and rock performance by a group (vying against Smashing Pumpkins, Oasis, the Dave Matthews Band and Garbage). The album's current single, One Headlight, is Billboard's No. 1 mainstream rock track for the third week and No. 3 on the modern rock chart.

Dylan is pleased by the success but annoyed by the perception that you-know-who had something to do with it. The youngest of five Dylan children, Jakob is fiercely private about his upbringing and his personal life. Most questions on those topics are met with a shrug or dismissive remark.

"I absolutely never think about it," he says when queried about his father's influence. "If one of your parents does construction, there are going to be tools around the house. But I got interested in playing music on my own. In the early '80s, my older brothers dragged me along to see Elvis Costello, the Clash and X. That was my first introduction to how powerful music is."

Dylan initially drew notice for his son-of status. Focus shifted to his own talent with the arrival of Bringing Down the Horse, an album of rootsy, heartfelt rock and fine storytelling that brought a chorus of praise and radio attention.

"For me, the focus was always music, because I never let it be anything else; I didn't go on Hard Copy," says Dylan, clearly proud that his achievements resulted from sweat and drive, not an impressive birth certificate.

"It's common for people to assume it's been a cakewalk for me," Dylan says sternly. "I don't spend any time being defensive or trying to convince people that I did it my way. Certainly, there have been times that I thought (being Bob Dylan's son) was a strike against us."

Early on, Dylan eluded radio and magazine requests for interviews "because we were nobodies and there was no story to tell. I was getting invited to do things that bands in our position don't get. I'm glad we didn't take those opportunities. There was nothing to talk about."

Dylan's garage quintet performed frequently at Canter's Deli in L.A. before signing with Virgin Records. The first Wallflowers album, filled with songs Dylan wrote from age 18 to 20, was a commercial flop, selling only 40,000. A subsequent split from Virgin and the ensuing struggle to find a new label left Dylan frustrated.

"We were unhappy at Virgin and they were feeling burdened by us," he says. "We asked to leave and they happily let us go. When we started shopping around, the response was really strange. Our manager is well-connected, but nobody was talking to him or returning his calls. We started to smell a rat. The word in magazines was that Virgin dropped us for being a 'difficult' band.

"For a full year, nobody came to see us, and we didn't have a record company. Suddenly, everyone had to see us and wanted to sign us. Your confidence gets hustled around a bit in this business."

At that point, five labels offered tempting deals, and the Wallflowers opted for small but mighty Interscope, home to big-selling No Doubt, Nine Inch Nails and Death Row rappers.

Before embarking on Horse, the quintet had shrunk to only Dylan and keyboardist Rami Jaffee. They recruited guitarist Michael Ward, bassist Greg Richling and drummer Mario Calire.

"Some people in the group might have stayed too long," Dylan says diplomatically. "It's hard to put a band together based on friendship. It's hard to watch someone who's not getting as good as the others. When those people left or were fired, it wasn't a bad thing really. The emotional setback was losing Leo."

Shortly after recording with the Wallflowers in 1995, veteran steel guitarist Leo LeBlanc succumbed to cancer. The death of his cherished collaborator subconsciously inspired Dylan to write I Wish I Felt Nothing.

"I started to write it in the studio, and I was kind of on autopilot," Dylan says. "It occurred to me later that the song seemed to be about Leo. I was learning lessons from him for the last couple years of his life. He was in his 60s, and there's obviously a lot you can learn from a guy who played so long with so many great people. He loved music. He was willing to play with us, people half his age, just because he liked the music we were making."

LeBlanc's devotion reinforced Dylan's mission to pursue music regardless of the financial rewards.

"I plan on playing music for the long haul, but I don't take anything for granted," he says. "I don't exist for record companies. If they pull the plug on you, you can't stop. You can't let them make that decision."