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: “A track with a straightforward rhythm and bass line. The nostalgic-sounding organ also plays an important role, especially in the theme and the solo (played on the Nord Stage). For contrast, the theme is supported by the tambourine. To make the rhythm even stronger, I added a tight electric guitar part. It’s close to the original—there wasn’t much room for an own interpretation.”
Covers abound, in every corner of the music industry. French crooners, ambitious entertainers, serious folk singers, and jazz combos; Italian, French, German, Swedish, and Dutch translations… the song clearly has universal appeal. The interpretations are just as diverse. Bruce Springsteen pays tribute to his idol, to “the brother that I never had”, live in 1975 with a compelling, get-your-lighters-out, put-flames-in-the-air version; the charming Mexican star Ximena Sariñana captivates with a meticulously crafted, intimate, and loving rendition on the Amnesty project Chimes Of Freedom (2012); and James Blunt (2005) sings perhaps a bit too melodramatically, but scores points with a beautifully constructed, understated arrangement. Sighing, moaning, breathy Caroline Doctorow also scores points (2003), plus a bonus for the loose yet driving up-tempo beat and, very true to style, the choice to have a sort of Serge Gainsbourg hum along at the end.
Despite all the genuine love, craftsmanship, and respect, even the most beautiful covers rarely come close to the original. Dylan was at a creative peak in February 1966; the mix of musicians in Studio A in Nashville was a stroke of luck, and the “thin wild mercury sound” gave the song a brilliance that simply cannot be matched. It’s understandable, well, laudable even, that Jan decided to stay true to that vibe—and, in fact, to try to match that mercurial brilliance.
To be continued. Next up Jan’s Take 7: I Pity The Poor Immigrant