by Jochen Markhorst
In this series, we shine a spotlight on a thriving, fascinating, and polarizing fringe phenomenon within Dylanology: the semi-professional cover artist. And more specifically, on a veteran from the southern part of a small country on the North Sea: Jan Barten from Breda, the Netherlands.
Jan: “Kick-off with an open drum track; just bass drum, snare and hi-hat – any more than that and it gets too repetitive. Bring in the congas at the same time as the vocals. The bass and electric guitar only come in later. Occasionally, a drum break on the keys with cymbals added. Underneath the Wurlitzer solo: an organ pattern in the background interacting with the basic rhythm, keeping the accompaniment interesting. The bass and guitar play different rhythms. Fade out after a Trugschluss, a false ending.”
On Nashville Skyline, released in 1969, “To Be Alone With You” isn’t very long: 2’06”. Shorter even, actually; the first twelve seconds the band is just fiddling about, Dylan can’t see producer Johnston and asks pianist Bob Wilson, “Is it rolling, Bob?”, and only starts singing at the 12-second mark. Delivering then a rather un-Dylanesque, unremarkable song. A simple little melody over a run-of-the-mill chord progression, the lyrics are little more than a string of country clichés, the backing is skilful but colourless.
Dylan seems to think so too. It wasn’t meant for himself, as he – not too convincingly – declares a few months later, in the Rolling Stone interview with Jann Wenner:
“I wrote To Be Alone With You – that’s on Nashville Skyline – I wrote it for Jerry Lee Lewis. [laughter] He was down there when we were listening to the playbacks, and he came in. He was recording an album next door. He listened to it… I think we sent him a dub.”
And another six months after that, on 17 May 1970, he tries to sell the song to Earl Scruggs, as we can hear on disc 3 of The Bootleg Series 15 – Travelin’ Thru, 1967–1969 (2019). Which was also filmed for the documentary Earl Scruggs — His Family and Friends, but documentary-maker David Hoffman left this clip on the cutting room floor. Understandably so: we hear Dylan starting somewhat hesitantly; he seems to be searching for the melody at first, then begins in the middle of the song, at the second line of the second verse (“ At the close of day”), sings this second verse twice, and the rest of the song is similarly loose on the lyrics – he swaps lines, forgets words and makes up others on the spot, not always to great effect. Dylan is no enthusiastic salesman, and Earl, though a certified, die-hard Dylan fan with dozens of Dylan covers in his repertoire, doesn’t take the bait.
The setlists illustrate Dylan’s indifference; it takes a full 20 years, until 15 October 1989, for “To Be Alone With You” to make its concert debut. As a consolation, it is given a place of honour: the ditty opens the concert. Entirely converted Dylan is not, however; in the thirty years following this premiere, he plays the song only 129 times in around 3,000 concerts. Still at least once a year until 2005, though.
And then come the pandemic and Dylan’s Covid surprise Shadow Kingdom in 2021, which delights with beautiful reinterpretations, brilliant performances and, above all, the resurrection of a fully restored “To Be Alone With You”. Dylan has really worked his magic on it. Not a single line has remained the same, and the song is now a sultry thriller hinting at murder and manslaughter – we hear the dramatic monologue of a sinister protagonist who wants to lure his victim to a castle high, into his ivory tower: “I’ll hound you to death, that’s just what I’ll do / I won’t sleep a wink ‘till I’m alone with you.”
The maestro seems satisfied, finally. With the world and concert halls reopening, the song has become a firm favourite: since 2021, it has appeared on the setlist 300 times – twice as often as in the previous fifty years.
However, it hasn’t led to a general resurgence in popularity. “To Be Alone With You” belongs to the rather exclusive club of Dylan songs that are hardly ever covered. Not at all in the Premier League, and rarely in the lower divisions. Maria Muldaur in 2006, Sue Foley in 1995, and a handful lesser-known artists – that’s about it.
But then we’re in the 2020s, and Jan Barten takes the shelf warmer under his wing. Guest vocalist Fons Havermans pours in far more love than Dylan did back when, in Nashville – passion, even. Jan, meanwhile, is clearly enjoying himself, building the track up smoothly and producing a pop gem that would have effortlessly won over Earl Scruggs. Heck, even Jerry Lee Lewis might have taken a shot.
To be continued. Next up Jan’s Take 5: Ballad Of Hollis Brown