DYLAN & US: BEYOND AMERICA
by Wouter van Oorschot
Translated by Brent Annable
- Amuse bouche
- Who the book is (not) for – part 1
- Who this book is (not) for – part 2
- Anything but idolatry – part 1
- Anything but idolatry – part 2
- Love, Dancing, Sex, Sadness, TR-63 – part 1
- Love, Dancing, Sex, Sadness, TR-63 – part 2
- Love, Dancing, Sex, Sadness, TR-63 – part 3
- Love, Dancing, Sex, Sadness, TR-63 – part 4
- The unchanging (heterosexual) love song – part 1
- The unchanging (heterosexual) love song – part 2
- What was the public to do? – part 1
- What was the public to do – part 2
- 1962-1964: Teenager chooses sides
- 1962-1964: Teenager chooses sides – part 2
Note: this article was originally published out of sequence, and was then withdrawn, with the correct article being published. It is now republished in its correct place
1965: Teenager finds a hero – part 1
Knowing a singer’s life doesn’t particularly help your understanding of a song. [...] It’s what a song makes you feel about your own life that’s important. (In: The philosophy of modern song – 2022)
In early March 1965, I leapt with surprise when I received a portable gramophone as a birthday gift – as ‘the’ only child, it fitted within the budget – along with some money to buy my first singles. These were ‘The last time’ (Stones), ‘Bring it on home to me’ (Animals) and ‘For your love’ (Yardbirds).
On 8 March, ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’ was released in the United States. It was only Dylan’s second 45 in just over eighteen months, after take-two of his single debut in August 1963. Imagine if Parlophone had tried to pull a similar stunt on The Beatles, or Decca on The Rolling Stones!
In April, Dylan’s ‘blues’ would air for the first time on European radio. With a voice like a cheese grater and accompanied by a high-octane combo of two electric guitars, bass guitar, drums and piano, with scorching flares of harmonica between the verses, it was all over in 142 seconds.
In musical terms, it was the logical successor to ‘Mixed-up confusion’ from December 1962. And even on my first hearing, I knew straight away: this song was about me. The Netherlands was already sufficiently overpopulated for me to realise that what this man had made was urban-jungle music which, while originating in the United States, was equally relevant to the rest of the urbanised world, of which I myself was a part. I make no claim that I could have phrased it as such at the dawn of my fourteenth year, but that the song was about me, that much was clear. Nationally I must have been one of the first buyers, and was proud to say so when it entered the Dutch top-40 on 22 May, at number 39.
After all poets who preceded Dylan, many – and most in vain – have wondered what on earth they were to do with this rap avant-la-lettre. Although I could decipher most of the lyrics with my English-Dutch dictionary once they had appeared in print, I, too, had not the foggiest notion of what it all meant. But it didn’t matter, and you are welcome to explain to me how such a thing was possible: I lived in a minuscule country, without even an underground metro system, and yet I could hear and feel that it was about me. Granted, the recurring line ‘look out kid’ meant that I at least felt like I was being spoken to. I played that record to shreds. Around that time, during Dylan’s first English tour, cineast D.A. Pennebaker (1925-2019) shot the original video clip in an alleyway behind the London Savoy Hotel, masterfully documenting Dylan’s Chaplinesque freshness in all its simplicity:
Johnny’s in the basement Mixing up the medicine I’m on the pavement Thinking about the government The man in the trench coat Badge out, laid off Says he’s got a bad cough Wants to get it paid off Look out kid It’s somethin’ you did God knows when But you’re doin’ it again You better duck down the alley way Lookin’ for a new friend The man in the coon-skin cap By the big pen Wants eleven dollar bills You only got ten Maggie comes fleet foot Face full of black soot Talkin’ that the heat put Plants in the bed but The phone’s tapped anyway Maggie says that many say They must bust in early May Orders from the D.A. Look out kid Don’t matter what you did Walk on your tiptoes Don’t try ‘No-Doz’ Better stay away from those That carry around a fire hose Keep a clean nose Watch the plain clothes You don’t need a weatherman To know which way the wind blows Get sick, get well Hang around an ink well Ring bell, hard to tell If anything is goin’ to sell Try hard, get barred Get back, write braille Get jailed, jump bail Join the army, if you fail Look out kid You’re gonna get hit But users, cheaters Six-time users Hang around the theatres Girl by the whirlpool Lookin’ for a new fool Don’t follow leaders Watch the parkin’ meters Ah get born, keep warm Short pants, romance, learn to dance Get dressed, get blessed Try to be a success Please her, please him, buy gifts Don’t steal, don’t lift Twenty years of schoolin’ And they put you on the day shift Look out kid They keep it all hid Better jump down a manhole Light yourself a candle Don’t wear sandals Try to avoid the scandals Don’t wanna be a bum You better chew gum The pump don’t work ’Cause the vandals took the handles
Scholars have established that when writing the above, Dylan took inspiration from the novel The Subterraneans by Jack Kerouac, as well as from the ‘beat poets’ in general and the initiator of the genre in particular, Allen Ginsberg, who was a friend of Dylan. I was oblivious to all of this, and I know for certain that the same applied to everyone else – a limited group of United States intellectuals aside – who approached the song simply as a piece of music.
It has also been established that it was Dylan’s way of electrifying the ‘folksy’ genre of the ‘talking blues’. I was oblivious to all of this, and know for certain… you get the idea. And by presenting himself once more as a rocker after his ‘flopped’ single debut ‘Mixed-up confusion’, Dylan this time broke free of the artistic chains with which his initial admirers wished to keep him bound as a folk singer (you can read that story in chapters 18 to 25, if you like): all true, I’m sure, but… no idea.
To me, the question therefore seems justified as to whether all this Dylanological erudition makes a shred of difference when reading the lyrics. Does this primordial form of rap become any better or worse in light of the fact that it was written over ten years before rap and hip-hop culture emerged in New York? And what do you think the lyrics mean exactly, or is such textual precision irrelevant in these cases? Is our intuition enough? You know, it could very well be that for newer generations, the above-mentioned iconic music video will remain the best introduction to the hero of former generations for centuries to come.
When asked years later, Dylan himself said he had been inspired by Chuck Berry’s ‘Too much monkey business’ (1956) and elements of the nonsensical ‘scat-singing’ from the 1940s and 50s (using the voice as an instrument: doobie doo-wop bapaloobop boo-wop babely-boom, etc.). As regards Berry’s text, compare for yourself:
Runnin' to-and-fro, hard workin' at the mill Never fail in the mail, yeah, come a rotten bill Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in Salesman talkin' to me, tryin' to run me up a creek Says you can buy it, go on try it, you can pay me next week, ahh Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in Blonde haired good lookin', tryin' to get me hooked Want me to marry, get a home, settle down, write a book Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in Same thing every day, gettin' up, goin' to school No need for me to complain, my objection's overruled, ahh Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in Pay phone, something wrong, dime gone, will mail Order suit, hoppered up for telling me a tale, ahh Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in Been to Yokohama, been fightin' in the war Army bunk, army chow, army clothes, army car, aah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in Workin' in the fillin' station, too many tasks Wipe the windows, check the tires, check the oil, dollar gas Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Don't want your botheration, get away, leave me Too much monkey business for me
continued: Teenager finds a hero – part 2
Wouter’s book is only available in Dutch for now:
Dylan en wij zonder Amerika, Wouter van Oorschot | 9789044655179 | Boeken | bol
We will publish more chapters from it in English on Untold Dylan in the coming weeks