Author's note, 1998: This basic assessment of Tom Petty's career still holds up. The one statement I might have to take back is the Bob Dylan dis. His most recent CD is more than respectable. Meanwhile, Petty's been quiet. JR

Tom Petty and the Heartbreaker's Greatest Hits

Tom Petty's mission in life is a humble one. To justify his musical legacy, all he has to do is prove that rock and roll - no matter how many generations diluted since Chuck Berry, no matter how slighted by trends (disco) and movements (punk, rap) - is still alive. On his Greatest Hits, Petty makes as convincing a case for rock's longevity as we're going to hear.

As the seventeen year span of his Greatest Hits reminds us, Petty was never a great rock experimenter like Neil Young; he never aspired to the self-appointed political spokesman role that made a phony out of Jackson Browne. Despite some marked changes in sound and style, Petty has rarely strayed too far from what works.

Petty's oldest stuff still sounds the freshest. His breakthrough single "American Girl" still deserves a place on anyone's road trip mix, and the inclusion of four songs from 1979's Damn The Torpedoes testifies to the surprising staying power of good American rock songs, played well and sung with passion. Most modern "songs" would not fare well on the Damn The Torpedoes' diet plan - after the fatty layer of 90's production gloss was stripped away, there wouldn't be much flesh left. We're no longer used to the powerful leanness and emotional meat of "Refugee," "Even The Losers," and "Here Comes My Girl."

The early songs set a high musical standard, one that Petty has not often matched in recent years, but he's had fun trying, and fun records tend to be good records. Petty's branched out a bit, with mixed results. He's moved from basic rock (e.g 1981's Hard Promises) to tentative self-imitation (1982's Long After Dark) to rootsy, deep South forays (1985's Southern Accents). While he played around, Petty relied on MTV-driven singles ("Don't Come Around Here No More") to pay the rent before returning to rock form again, albeit rock revamped by a more embellished sound ("Learning to Fly") and more surreal lyrics ("Free Fallin'"), to cite the best of the new.

I prefer the early material. I like its Springsteen-without-the-poetic-grandeur snippets of American life and its raw, sometimes bitter ("Breakdown") sometimes joyful ("The Waiting") glimpses of Petty's love life. Some may mourn the "Jeff Lynnization" of Petty's most recent work (everything Lynne produces always calls up long-repressed, unwelcome memories of ELO), but the Lynne-era songs assume a dignified, even necessary place in this collection. Perhaps they fare better separated from the repetitive drone of an album of the same.

Through the years, Petty has not changed his lyrical policy of social issue avoidance ("You're Jamming Me," his direct attack on MTV and media exploitation, doesn't count, due to blatant self-interest). This distance from deep statements, along with his grunt-level attachment to workmanlike rock and roll, has kept many critics from considering him an "artist," and it's fair to say that Petty's music will not have the kind of lasting impact on modern life that Travelling Wilburys pal Bob Dylan has achieved.

But Tom Petty's still around to offer his musical rebuttal, and these days he's writing better songs than Dylan. Petty's ability to churn out good songs on a regular basis is precisely why he will never be a legend or a martyr, but thanks to his impressive productivity and to The Heartbreakers, his excellent and very loyal band, Petty will always get honorable mention. As for his purpose as a preserver of rock and roll, it's a mission that grows less humble and more important with every passing year. "Mary Jane's Last Dance" (one of two new songs on the Greatest Hits CD) proves that Petty has not forgotten these daily duties, and he's not about to let technology put him out of a job.

-JR-