Beyond the era of the genius composer – the utterly unexpected journey of one Dylan song

 

By Tony Attwood

I began my series on the music (as opposed to the lyrics) of Bob Dylan with an article

I found the issue to be one of some interest, and so chose to evolve that thought into a series of six articles (the links to which, if you are interested, are published at the end of the article referenced above.   and  I reached the conclusion through those articles that Bob had at one stage in his career turned away from making the lyrics the key element in each song, and instead made the music and the lyrics of equal importance in each of his compositions.   As a result the compositions were significantly different from those hehad written before.

This pattern of composing continued through to the writing of the song Isis which sought to return to the most simple approach to the music of a rock song (it is based on three chords repeated over and over through the song) but with a remarkable range of variations in the melody.

Of course I am not sure if Bob specifically thought that this was what he was doing, but as we look at the sequence of his writing, this is certainly how it appears that the compositions evolved.

Thus musically, the end of 1974 and the early period of 1975 was one of Bob’s greatest periods of compositional virtuosity.  Idiot Wind had that unprecedented chord change at the start of each verse, while One More Cup of Coffee moved us through the pain of departure- the opposite of the vigour of moving on through one’s own decision to go out and find pastures new.

In this regard, the series ended with Isis, a song that showed once more that three chords repeated over and over could still create incredible music that just demanded to be listened to if the melody and lyrics were right.  The three chords give us the repeated background of life, the pattern of day following night, but within that, there can be infinite variation.

This then whetted my appetite for more writing about Bob’s music, although hopefully within it, there is some recognition of the fact that my audience is primarily made up of people who enjoy Bob’s compositions and performances, but are not musicians.   That series began with the article “If only there had been a Nobel Prize for music” which took as its starting point not just the fact that most people comment not just primarily but solely on Bob’s lyrics, and so the revolution he created in popular music as music was, in such commentaries, largely ignored.

That it was ignored can be seen by reading the reviews of Bob’s work, for although there are exceptions, by and large they make little reference to his music.   Yes, we now have access to many of Bob’s initial recordings of songs, and we can hear the music as well as the lyrics evolve through recording sessions, but compared with the level of discussion of the lyrics, there is little said about the way the music changes.

I attempted to pick up this point with the series “If only there had been a Nobel Prize for Music” which opened with the forthright claim that Bob had deliberately taken us, at this point, into a new musical world as he had taken us years before into a new lyrical world.

The very first song I noted in what was to become a rather long series is repeated below, and I think if you just listen to this with an ear for the music, the point that I have laboured over during these months may make itself clear.  I doubt anyone would nominate the lyrics of this song as one of the high points of Bob’s compositional achievements, but with this new accompaniment, suddenly the song takes on new meanings and reaches new insights that were hard (if not impossible) to perceive previously, not just in Dylan’s writing but in anyone’s lyrics.

Now I know I have given my favourite example of this multiple times, so please do skip forward if you are now bored with it, but if you have not heard this before, or if, like me, you can never hear it enough, just consider this example below.  If you want the whole journey of this song’s mutation, it is here.  But if you want to take my word for it, here it is in its final edition…

The question I asked myself when I first heard the version above was quite simply, how on earth could any composer get from the original version to this new version?

Bob Dylan both wrote and recorded “Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum” in May 2001 and it was released four months later, as the opening track of “Love and Theft”.   Musically, it is a development of the classic 12-bar blues, but reduced from its normal three-chord format to two chords.  Bob obviously felt the song was important: it was, as I have just noted, the opening track of the album.  But I wonder, did many of us really appreciate its depth?  I certainly did not.

Yet listening to the live version from the Never Ending Tour, even after all these years I am still stunned both by the piece of music itself and by the way Bob managed to rearrange his own work in this way (for I can assure you it can be a lot harder to re-write one’s own music in such a radical way – knowing as one does as a conposer how you got to that point in the composition – than it ever is to start agains with a new piece).
There were 13 years between the two versions, and the writer, the composer and the Dylan fan inside me all want to know how on earth this happened.   Did Bob have that earlier version in his head and start playing it on the guitar more slowly, and then finally conclude, “this is ok”?  Or did a member of the band say, “We should open with Tweedle Dum,” and Bob then just started playing it much more slowly?
I don’t know, and unless I have missed it in an interview somewhere, I doubt that Bob is ever going to tell us.   But what Bob did here was extraordinary – not just because he managed to transform the entire song, but because re-writing a piece in this way, with this level of change, is phenomenally difficult.  Yes, one can slow a song down or speed it up, but to change its very essence, while keeping links back to the original, such as that rotating lead guitar motif that comes in after the fifth line of each verse, is very difficult.  But worth persevering with because it is so utterly unexpected that it forces one to listen.
Now my point in returning to this song and this re-write yet again is to add another level to my overall notion that we should see Bob as a musician and much as a writer of lyrics.  Bob has the ability as an arranger to transform a piece of music into something quite different from what it originally was, which I doubt anyone else could have even perceived to be possible, let alone executed.
And this leads me back to a point that I think I didn’t feel worth making before, but now in retrospect, I think is essential.  Bob’s song is an original, but songs about Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum most certainly are not original…
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are, in fact, characters from a traditional English nursery rhyme, often depicted as twins who agree to a battle over a broken rattle.  Although in taking on this theme, Bob was not being unique.  Rather he was taking the notion in a completely new direction.
“Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum” by Middle of the Road has been covered by several artists, including Divina, and by the Movers and Shakers.   It is distinct from the 1950s song “Tweedlee Dee” (covered by Elvis, Connie Francis and others) and as I say, Bob Dylan’s 2001 song “Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum”.

But in fact the notion of the characters goes back much further.   Tweedledum and Tweedledee are two words invented by poet John Byrom in a satire depicting the rivalry of two great celebrities of the time, the composers George Frideric Handel and Giovanni Bononcini.

Some say, compar’d to Bononcini
That Mynheer Handel’s but a Ninny
Others aver, that he to Handel
Is scarcely fit to hold a Candle
Strange all this Difference should be
‘Twixt Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee!

And just to leap forward a few more centuries, we have Elvis…

Such histories sadly tend to get lost, but for me, they are worth tracing back, if for no reason beyond the fact that I so love Dylan’s final arrangement of his song, that I want to know how it all started.

By no means for the first time, Bob has taken an institution from the past, and transported it into the present day.  I took him numerous reworkings to get to the final magnificent arrangement but he did it, and it is a perfect example of the work of Bob the musician, something that in my view is sadly often ignored by the rush to discover the meanings of Bob’s intricate lyrics.

I love the final edition of Bob’s song, and just in case you have forgotten it through the various other musical examples within this little exposition of the song’s history, I offer it here once more.  If you enjoy this one tenth as much as I do, you’ll find it worth listening to once more.

Well a childish dream is a deathless need
And a noble truth is a sacred creed
They’re laying low and they’re makin’ hay
They seem determined to go all the way
One is a lowdown, sorry old man
The other will stab you where you stand
“I’ve had too much of your company,”
Says Tweedle-dee Dum to Tweedle-dee Dee
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