It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue – A History in Performance, Part 4: 1990 – 1995

 

• Part 1: 1965. Crying like a fire in the sun
• Part 2: 1975. The vagabond who’s rapping at your door
• Part 3: All your reindeer armies.

Part 4: 1990-1995: You Think Will Lasst

By Mike Johnson

[I read somewhere that if you wanted the very best, the acme of Dylan’s pre-electric work, you couldn’t do better than listen to side B of Bringing It All Back Home, 1964. Four songs, ‘Mr Tambourine Man,’ ‘Gates of Eden,’ ‘It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)’ and ‘It’s All Over Now Baby Blue’ represent the pinnacle of Dylan’s acoustic achievement. In this series I aim to chart how each of these foundation songs fared in performance over the years, the changing face of each song and its ultimate fate (at least to date). This is the fourth article on the fourth and final track, ‘It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue.’ You can find the previous articles in this History in Performance series here: ]

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I have some wonderful sounds lined up for you this time around, Bobcats, but moreover there is a story to tell, a story of how this song rose from the messy performances of the early nineties, like a phoenix from the ashes, to its full glory in 1995.

To understand this story fully, however, we need to grasp that ‘Baby Blue’ is a love song. A particular kind of love song, what I have called love’s last song. Love’s last excruciating song. One more kiss, one more night, one more weekend, after which ‘it’s all over now.’ There is nothing quite like the exquisite sorrow of that farewell moment. Love’s last moment. The moment in which love dies. You know the big lie: I never want to see you again.

‘Baby Blue’ was a love song all along, it just wasn’t so obvious in those early, strident performances of 1965 when it came across as a farewell song, with the tone of an ex-lover delivering the hard, unpleasant truth. You go your way, I’ll go mine, to quote a song that was to come a year later. The tenderness of the song was not evident. Jerry Garcia discovered it in the melody. His guitar accompaniment to Dylan and the Dead’s 1987 performance had a bitter-sweetness to it (See Part 3 of this series), but you had to search for it in later performances. It showed itself in the passionate 1980 performance (See part 2 of this series), which I chalked up as a ‘best ever,’ but is not fully explored by Dylan, or perhaps discovered by him, until the mid-1990s.

One of the heroes of the story of the song’s emergence is the harmonica. At its best, Dylan’s harmonica picks up from where his lyrics leave off, amplifying and elaborating the emotional nexus that drives the song. That nexus pulls together disparate threads of feeling. When writing about the song in my NET series  I commented that while Dylan doesn’t cry on stage, his harmonica does. It does the crying for him. There are tears lurking behind the apparent brashness of the lyrics. There’s heartbreak behind the ‘strike another match, go start anew.’ He is trying to be brave but the harp gives him away every time. The song has provoked some of Dylan’s best harmonica work; it doesn’t spring from nowhere. We’re going to hear Dylan exploring and pushing those sounds until the revelatory 1995 performances.

So let’s get started. It doesn’t begin that well, although ‘Baby Blue’ doesn’t suffer as badly as some of the songs during this period. I have written before about the difficult years of 1991 and 1992, about what happened to Dylan’s voice and the messy, ‘garage band’ style of the years leading up to Dylan replacing GE Smith on guitar and bringing in a steel guitar and dobro. You just have to think of the album Under The Red Sky (1991) to get the idea. It was this change, and Dylan’s slowly emerging voice, that laid the foundations for the profound mid-nineties performances.

But first, this 1990 recording is one out of the box. Keeping it acoustic, quivering and heartfelt, the song’s potential is all there even as his voice is getting a bit thin and strained. And the harp is there for an extended break. It too is thin and rasping, but the potential for emotional exploration and elaboration is evident. At this point it is scratching at the emotions, almost as if seeking to draw blood. (Paris, Jan 31st 1990)

1990 (Paris)

By 1991 problems are emerging. The arrangement, turning it from acoustic to full band after the first verse, sounds wooden. The recording is good as far as Dylan’s voice goes (possibly a soundboard recording), but he messes up the lyrics and tends to flatten the song into a monotone. It doesn’t soar and it doesn’t dive deep. To be fair, I think he’s searching out new melodic pathways for the vocal, and in that respect, we have to see the performance as a partial success. The harmonica break that ends the performance does its job, is jagged and dissonant, but fails to excite.

1991 (a)

This is a better performance from 1991 (date unknown), Dylan is trying to stretch his voice and we sense the emergence of a structure in the harp break, starting subdued and building to a climax. In terms of what comes later, this is an interesting performance. He’s reaching for something here.

1991 (b)

In this first recording from 1992, we find Dylan trying out his new lineup, the lineup which would carry the song through to its peak year in 1995. The effect of Bucky Baxter on steel guitar can be heard. He will go on to soften Dylan’s sound still further. It’s all a bit new and raw at this point, but the potential is there. Once more the harp probes the emotions, but the tempo is a little too brisk for a properly reflective harp performance. Dylan’s voice, in the higher registers, is thin and sounds strained. He might have been able to pull off what he’s aiming for here in 1981, when he could confidently hit the higher registers, but now not so much. (May 14^th)

1992

It’s a pity I don’t have the date for this next one, but I suspect it’s from later in the year, and Dylan’s approach to the song has markedly changed. It’s unusual for a song’s arrangement to change radically during a tour (although it did happen, spectacularly, in 2002 when Dylan dropped the guitar and took up the keyboards). With that insistent, thumping bass intro, which anchors the song firmly in its tempo, we take a big step towards the 1995 performances. It’s still a lot faster than it will be in following years, but we feel as if the song is finding its feet as a new song, if you like, a love song full of regret and yearning. There’s no harmonica break, which allows Baxter to stretch his legs, developing the orchestral effects made possible by the steel guitar, another feature of future performances

1992

In 1993 we jump on the rising curve and the fun really starts, the story gathers pace. 1993 was the year of the epic, five-minute songs turned into ten-minute marathons. The band had shaken down and was working sweetly, there was a sense of musical adventure, extended solos, jazzy guitar breaks and drawn-out endings. It was also the year in which Dylan began to push his electric guitar playing, often taking the lead. The era of Dylan as Mr Guitar Man had arrived.

‘Baby Blue’ gets swept along in all this. It is uncompromisingly acoustic and there is a lot of fine, intricate, lyrical guitar work here. Dylan’s voice is still not so great. He hasn’t broken through that thin, scratchy sound yet, but that breakthrough is coming. He’s testing his voice, pushing it.

This performance runs to 9.40 mins mainly because of the almost three-minute harp break, an extended foray into the song’s emotional nexus, subtle, nuanced, drawing out every thread of feeling. If you need reminding of what love’s goodbye feels like, this harp break will do it for you. Amazing to think that it can get better than this, but it can. (Marseille, June 29^th)

1993

We get another almost three-minute harp solo in this one from Naples, June 26^th. These harp solos are exploratory rather than definitive. It’s remarkable how different they are from each other. What is of special interest here is Dylan’s voice. It’s beginning to take on that luminous clarity that will mark his vocals over the coming two years.

1993

1994 was the first of two stellar years as our story moves to its climax. We have the Woodstock recordings and MTV’s Unplugged. If you want to hear how Dylan’s voice developed, compare the Supper Club recordings with Unplugged. Dylan didn’t sing ‘Baby Blue’ for Unplugged, but we have a wonderful performance from Woodstock.

I recommend this version as the sound quality is superior. This is no audience recording, but a remastered FM broadcast. Enjoy.

  1994 (Woodstock)

The key to the success of this is the slowed tempo, and that insistent, thumping beat we first heard in 1992. That tempo and beat provide the framework for the extended musical reflection of the harmonica. Ah! there is the sadness, another strand. The ache of a love about to be lost. The tears are starting to flow. (There is a video of this performance on YouTube but the sound quality is inferior.)

Woodstock was not the only superlative performance in 1994. We’re back with audience recordings, and yet this one from Kiel, Germany (July 25^th) gets my vote. Hard to match this kind of perfection (I take my hat off to the bootlegger). Some sweet, anguished guitar sounds and a delicate, floating harp. Dead slow tempo allowing every note its space. After thirty years love’s last song finds its grief. The lyrics become almost a sad commentary on the sort of things people say when one is moving on. And is he singing it to someone else or himself? As love and longing linger, isn’t he the one who needs to ‘strike another match.’

Maybe a song can come back at you like that.

1994 Kiel

Now to 1995 and the climax of our story. This tour-de-force of a song turns into a sublime love poem. The emotional intensity of the song is fully realized in a remarkable series of performances. We now have the bass reinforcing the steady, relentless beat. Dylan builds the vocal carefully to a powerful culmination in the last verse. The harp is let loose to soar. No longer quiet and reflective, as in 1993/4, the harp burns bright and hard. Or cuts deep depending on your metaphor. Tears flow freely. It too builds to a culmination with the final phrase repeated to the edge of excruciation. How can I let go? Goodbye goodbye goodbye goodbye

In my NET series I highlighted the remarkable Prague performance. I suggested it was one of Dylan’s finest live performances of all time. We’re lucky to have a video of it now. Not perfect but it gives us the feel. (March 11^th)

1995 Prague

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ij-VKdZGazQ

I now realize, however, that the Prague performance was only one of a series of outstanding performances. Perhaps we can have too much of a good thing, but I’m going to offer two more. This Philadelphia performance comes at the end of the year (December 17^th), ten months after Prague. A sort of emotional doubling down is going on here. The tone of the final harp solo moves from grief to celebration, perhaps driven on by a responsive audience. What is remarkable is how different this harp solo is from Prague. In Philly, you don’t break down crying but break free, walk away determinedly with your head held high. A different kind of resolution.

1995 Philadelphia

Finally back to London, March 31^st to catch an excellent performance but sans harp. I miss the harp, it’s the cherry on top, but this gentle version highlights the guitars, Dylan delivers a thoughtful vocal. This one is a nice epilogue to our story.

This story ends here. The rising curve has delivered us to these knockout 1995 performances. But it is a story within a larger story. The story of the song does not end here, and I’ll be back soon to pick up the trail.

Until then

Kia Ora

Previously in this series….

Tambourine Man

• Part 1: A masterpiece is born
• Part 2: 1966 – Darker hues.
• Part 3: Chasing Shadows
• Part 4. 1978-1986. Far From the Twisted Reach
• Part 5: 1986-1993: Evening’s Empire
• Part 6: 1994 – 99: My weariness amazes me
• Part 7: 2000 – 2010: the jingle jangle.

Gates of Eden

• Part 1: 1964 Ancestral voices prophesying war
• Part 2: 1974 – 1991 A crashing but meaningless blow
• Part 3: 1991 – 2001. Where Babies Wail: A Spooky Grandeur

It’s alright ma

• Part 1:  1964 – 74 – From the fool’s gold mouthpiece
• Part 2: 1975/81 – Stuffed graveyards and false gods.
• Part 3: 1984 –  One who sings with his tongue on fire.
• Part 4: 1988 –  The darkness at the break of noon
• Part 5: 1999 –  2004. Stuffed graveyards, false goals.