By Tony Attwood
In this series, rather than review what Bob said about each song in his “Philosophy” book, written after he got the Nobel Prize for literature, I am offering recordings of the song/s in question, and my own thoughts on the song and its origins. And as I have noted before, this is not least because I did try to review Bob’s comments, but felt my efforts were really of no use to anyone – you are better off reading the book. Thus, these articles in “The Philosophy” series are provided in case you want a bit more background on the songs that Bob chose. At list of the songs already reviewed is given at the end.
Today it is “Jesse James”, a song whose authorship is generally put as “traditional.” The version Bob chose was by Harry McClintock.
This is exactly how I think traditional songs celebrating the “wild west” era of the United States’ evolution should sound. There are multiple different versions, but most include something like eight verses and the chorus…
Well Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life, Three children, they were brave, Well that dirty little coward that shot Mr Howard, He laid poor Jesse in his grave.
So we have an outlaw, a bank robber, a train robber and (as I have found in some accounts) a guerrilla, who is reported positively in the song and remembered as one standing up for the ordinary people against the rich and powerful. I am reminded, as a person born and brought up in the UK, of the adventures of Robin Hood, of whom there are tales dating back to the 13th and 14th centuries. In England, he is remembered through the phrase “he steals from the rich and gives to the poor”.
And indeed it seems to me that in many respects the truth of such tales matters less and less as time passes; the individuals therein become folk legends representing how the poor were unfairly treated in olden times and how individual outlaws were found who would somehow manage to stand up against them.
The first recording of the Jesse James song comes from the 1920s, and of course, many famous folk singers have picked up on it since, including Woody Gutherie, Pete Seeger, the Kingston Trio and so on.
And in many ways, songs such as this one are synonymous with folk music – the music of the people – for they are stories and songs that give us hope that out there, somewhere, is someone who will look after the interests of the poor, and the powerless, against the money-grabbing criminal activities of those who have taken power.
But the key point here is, I think, that we still remember Jesse James and Robin Hood, and I am sure other outlaw heroes in other countries. I recall reading about Ames Mackenzie in New Zealand, Ishikawa Goemon in Japan, and then coming back to my own country, Dick Turpin. From what I understand, he was a violent highwayman, but somehow myths and legends evolved around him.
So maybe the point is not that we are recalling violent criminals or perhaps myths, but imagining a time when there was someone out there to look after and protect the well-being of the poor and disenfranchised.
Something in this draws me back to Po Boy too, which I know I once described as “”a walk through the heritage of American culture” (I remember that phrase because Wiki reminded me of it in the review of the song), and maybe that is what is going on here with Dylan’s flashback to Jesse James.
Maybe each culture has it own classic and possibly mythical rebel who helped the downtrodden, against the aristocrats. And of course the names of these heroes (real and imagined) live on not just in stories but also in songs
And I guess all cultures at all times need their heroes from past eras, with the suggestion that we too need these heroes to come along and rescue us from the situation we are in.
Hold me tight like a sidearm keep grippin' till I lose my breathLoad me up Jesse James, use that dead-eye and aim for the headI hope they stay dead
Bob has only played the song 41 times between 2006 and 2010 – not very many compared to some songs, but there seemed to me to be a real feeling for the song by Bob, and I have often wondered why he didn’t take it on stage more often. But then with Bob, I guess we never quite know.
And in relation to this rather bizarre journey, which started with Jesse James, I do feel inclined to end with Po Boy.
My mother was a daughter of a wealthy farmer My father was a traveling salesman, I never met him When my mother died, my uncle took me in—he ran a funeral parlor He did a lot of nice things for me and I won’t forget him All I know is that I’m thrilled by your kiss I don’t know any more than this Poor boy, pickin’ up sticks Build ya a house out of mortar and bricks Knockin’ on the door, I say, “Who is it and where are you from?” Man says, “Freddy!” I say, “Freddy who?” He says, “Freddy or not here I come” Poor boy ’neath the stars that shine Washin’ them dishes, feedin’ them swine
Previously in this series
- Cheaper to Keep Her
- CIA Man – the Fugs
- Detroit City
- Don’t let me be misunderstood
- Dirty Life and Times
- Detroit City
- Dirty Life and Times
- Don’t let me be misunderstood
- I’ve always been crazy
- Keep my Skillet Good and Greasy
- Money Honey
- My Generation and Desolation Row
- Nellie was a Lady
- Old Violin by Johnny Paycheck
- Please don’t let me be misunderstood
- Pump it up
- Saturday night at the movies
- Strangers in the Night
- Take Me from This Garden of Evil
- There stands the glass
- Tutti Fruiti (A wap bop a … etc)
- Waist Deep in the Big Muddy
- Where or When
- Willy the Wandering Gypsy and Me
- Without a song