By Tony Attwood
If only there had been a Nobel Prize for Music
In my original set of reviews of Dylan’s writing of this era, I wrote of 1963, “Towards the end of that year Dylan composed a most extraordinary set of songs ranging from two tales of the better world to come (“When the ship comes in” and “The Times they are a-Changing”) along with “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” which portrays racism not as something that is a set of individual incidents but as something utterly entrenched within American society.
Then to finish the year off he wrote two of the most powerful songs of leaving: “One too many mornings” and “Restless Farewell” – which raised the question, who was leaving what? Were we all moving on in the sense of improving society, or was Bob moving on in despair? Or indeed (as it seems in listening to those songs then and now) was this a voice saying “as a society, we’re totally lost”?
However, in my earlier review, I focussed primarily on the lyrics – the subject matter of Dylan’s songs. But in this “If only there had been a Nobel Prize for music” series I have been trying to explore the notion that Bob also changed the way he was writing music at the same time in order to convey a greater depth of meaning in his songs than can be achieved just in the lyrics. Something that I think has (quite understandably) been largely ignored by commentators who naturally head to the more obvious changes – the lyrical themes of the songs, rather than the musical themes.
In that earlier article, I added that this consideration “raised a question: what on earth could he do to top that? He had composed 20 highly memorable songs in each of the last two years – could he keep it up?
Certainly in the review of the music Bob composed in 1963 it seems that Bob did indeed take his approach to both music and lyrics down new avenues, but, I have tried to suggest, he did this more subtly with the music than with the lyrics.
In terms of compositions, Dylan started 1964 with the now largely forgotton song Guess I’m doing fine
This is a very deceptive song for it contains within it something extraordinarily curious. In each verse, the song consists of two lines each of two bars, which are then repeated. In the next verse these lines are answered and then the last four bars consist of the chorus line, spread out into four bars.
Written out it looks very straightforward:
Well, I ain't got my childhood (2 bars) Or friends I once did know (2 bars) No, I ain't got my childhood (2 bars) Or friends I once did know (2 bars) But I still got my voice left (2 bars) I can take it anywhere I go (2 bars) Hey-hey, so I guess I'm doing fine (4 bars)
So two groups of eight bars – a classic bit of folk songwriting. And yet the song sounds and indeed feels completely strange – and this strangeness is brought about by the fact that verse two opens by sounding and feeling exactly the same as verse one, except that the last line (starting “hey hey”) is spread out over four bars – this being achieved by the extension of the music over the word “fine”.
The fact that there are effectively just three lines of lyrics in that second verse gives the feeling of something odd happening, and it is hard to work out exactly what it is, if all one is doing is listening to the music.
I should also add Eyolf Østrem notes a subtle change to the chords in the fifth verse which passed me by as I was pondering the strange effect that this music achieves using such minimal resources. As ever I’m eternally grateful for the sharpness of his hearing.
Overall this really was a strange song to compose, although when we consider the subject matter of the two preceding compositions, One too many mornings and Restless Farewell (which are both about packing up and moving on) it does fit with the emotions Bob was expressing at the time; emotions of being ill-at-ease with where he was.
However, rather perversely the musical accompaniment of the song doesn’t express this at all. The music in fact expresses the image of a person “doing fine” while the lyrics express the opposite…. It is a real case of “grin and bear it”.
I been kicked an' whipped an' trampled on I been shot at just like you I been kicked an' whipped an' trampled on I been shot at just like you But as long as the world keeps turnin' I just keep turnin' too Hey hey so I guess I'm doin' fine.
Along with around half of Dylan’s compositions, this one was never played in public. As far as I know Bob wrote it, recorded it, and left it. But it is worth noting for the way that it works as a song. It is of course totally contradictory – the singer most certainly is not doing fine, even though he says he is, and even though the music is quite jolly (although as we come to understand the lyrics, and appreciate the level of repetition, the situation is anything but “quite jolly.”)
Now I find this rather interesting as the preceding compositions were as I noted above, “One too many mornings” and “Restless farewell” both of which were about things being far from fine. And having written two pieces of very plaintive music, Bob now continued with the theme that things are not fine, but with a more upbeat musical approach, resulting in this “grin and bear it” image. It all sounds fine, he says it’s fine, but exactly as with the two preceding songs, things are not right at all.
“Guess I’m doing fine” sounds to me very much like a sketch – an idea that came to Bob and he recorded it, just to have a note of the song. But having got that idea recorded, the serious work began, as Bob’s compositional abilities took off in ways that I don’t think anyone could have predicted.
Now we have seen that the songs written at the end of 1963 varied between the positive When the ship comes in and The Times they are a-Changing and the negative Percy’s Song and The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll.
Indeed looking at the way Bob’s writing swung from the positive to the negative one can hardly be surprised that he finished the year with two songs of leaving everything behind and moving on: One too many mornings and Restless Farewell
And it is certainly possible to see “I guess I’m doing fine” as Bob’s further contemplation of his own situation. He is indeed doing well, but also feeling restless, and in need of a change. He is perhaps asking, “Can I do something meaningful about this by singing about Hattie Carroll, or have I really had enough?” He expresses the latter view in Restless Farewell.
But then Bob did find an answer both lyrically and musically, and it was the answer that said he could stand up and fight.
What makes this song so memorable is, of course, the lyrics, a perfectly constructed assault on the way society has removed hope and freedom but that if we can stand up for those who are lost within society’s grip there is a better life to be had for all of us.
The song is therefore a solid repetition of the same musical pattern throughout which allows the singer to reinforce the message, with each verse ending each time with the statement that things can be better.
Given the solid, recognisable nature of the message of the song, it is perhaps not surprising that the music follows a much more set and standardised form than we saw in many of Bob’s songs of the previous year.
There are four solid beats in a bar, and this never varies. The rhyme scheme is more complex than normal for Bob (A B C B D D D E) but this remains the same throughout. It is in fact a very unusual structure, and may actually be unique, but contains within in a very recognisable and common approach to the first four lines with the second and fourth line rhyming.
Then we have the change for the next three lines which all rhyme with each other
Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight An’ for each an’ ev’ry underdog soldier in the night
represented by the D D D in the rhyme scheme above. And finally, we hvae the title line, at the end, which doesn’t rhyme with anything.
Most of us, I guess, have heard this song so often that we no longer recognise or think about the way Bob constructs and delivers the power of these three lines – a power which is enhanced by the repetition of the title in the final line. But if we can stand back for a moment and listen afresh that power is still there, and is delivered by those rhymes.
The fact is the song is six verses and 438 words long, which is very long when compared with most songs written in the late 1960s and early 1970s. But it is held together and derives its power from the recognised rhyme scheme of the first half of each verse, and those repeated rhymes in the second half. Indeed in the earlier part of each verse we hear a standard lyrical format and a standard rhyming scheme (A B C B), but the power of the song derives from those three rhyming lines that come afterwards.
And more than this the lyrics end on an absolute upbeat notion of the fact that we can change the world. Not that the world will change, not at all. But the message that we can change the world….
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
If you just listen to the way the third of those four lines is sung you surely can’t but hear the power. Every syllable is sung on the same note until the drop of one tone in the second syllable of “universe”, so that it almost becomes a relief that hear that repeated musical line which ends each verse in the same way.
Thus musically and lyrically the song speaks of the achievement of liberation, and the “chimes of freedom” becomes a musical and visual aura in whose protection we can rest. The music has played its part in this as much as the lyrics. Which left Bob, just one problem. Having taken us to such heights and delivered such a promise, how on earth could he follow this up?
At least he had given himself one clue: breaking the rules was clearly a good idea.