There’s a long-distance train rolling through the rain, tears on the letter I write.
There is a set of Dylan songs where each line is a song – you can take the line and it has an image so powerful that it doesn’t matter what the rest of the song is about.
Yes, you can read the history of “Where are you tonight?”, and think, ah yes, he is singing about Sara and her attempt to take the children away from Dylan –
Much of the song could be said to be about this – but who knows with Dylan?
“There’s a babe in the arms of woman enraged…” It all seems to fit, and yet, and yet…
Stand back for a moment and just look at the lines in splendid isolation, and there is even more life to be had here.
What adds to the feeling of line after line each being a song in its own right, is the length of the verse – no matter how many times you hear it, the fact is that the second four lines catch you out – it feels like we have had the bulk of the verse after four long lines, but then another four come tumbling in, all with the same melody and that same, incredibly simple I IV chord sequence. The pressure builds and builds, and only then do we finally hit the dominant chord and find a way out.
Then it’s back to that relentless I IV…
There’s a woman I long to touch and I miss her so much but she’s drifting like a satellite.
There’s a neon light ablaze in this green smoky haze, laughter down on
So it goes on. You don’t need the songs, you only need the lines. Where Jokerman failed so totally in putting together a collection of images this song works – it works because the images are so much more powerful, and most of all it works because the music is so fitting.
And a lonesome bell tone in that valley of stone where she bathed in a stream of pure heat.
How else could you sing this but over a simple rocking chord change? How else could you make this long stream of images work other than in an endlessly repeating verse line.
It is in fact Hard Rain, years later and in the end it is the lines that tell us where we are, what sort of world we are in…
The truth was obscure, too profound and too pure, to live it you have to explode.
Or if that doesn’t get you, try this
She could feel my despair as I climbed up her hair and discovered her invisible self.
And the last selection of I IV chords ends…
If you don’t believe there’s a price for this sweet paradise, remind me to show you the scars.
Was Dylan reminded of this years further on when he said, “I’ve still got the scars that the sun doesn’t heal.” Quite possibly – its hard now not to listen to Not Dark Yet and remain immune to the effect of this song.
What makes one ultimately have to put the stylus back one track, or flip back the button on the CD is the end
There’s a new day at dawn and I’ve finally arrived.
If I’m there in the morning, baby, you’ll know I’ve survived.
I can’t believe it, I can’t believe I’m alive,
But without you it just doesn’t seem right.
Oh, where are you tonight?
Has the situation of lost love ever been summarised so perfectly? The man who sang of his love in
But that would be too much to ask.
(c) Tony Attwood 2008