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: “Another up-tempo track. It features a catchy guitar riff combined with a piano part. I’ve opted for traditional bass lines; anything else just doesn’t work. From the second verse onward a broad, rich organ layer in the background (Nord Stage). Strong vocals from Fons Havermans. A nostalgic organ solo, and then the track ends with a fade-out – there just isn’t much scope for experimentation.”
“From A Buick 6” is sometimes dismissed as a filler, a rather unremarkable interlude on an album full of timeless classics. And true, sandwiched between tracks such as “Rolling Stone”, “It Takes A Lot” and “Thin Man”, “From A Buick 6” doesn’t shine quite as brightly as it would on its own, somewhere on a deserted car park in the moonlight. Taken out of context from that overwhelming side A, “From A Buick 6” comes into its own: one of those mercurial gems from the heyday of a brilliant artist, a bittersweet, unpolished blues-rock track full of half-familiar references and eccentric metaphors.
As is often the case with Dylan, the immediate inspiration seems to come from a forgotten song from the dusty corners of the blues canon – in this instance, Charley Patton’s “34 Blues”. Patton snarls and growls, painting a picture of life in the American South in 1934, at the height of the Great Depression, and, as in so many of his songs, peppers it with autobiographical details – suggesting that he is processing his own experiences through his lyrics. Which also seems to apply to the fourth verse, the verse that provides the title for Dylan’s song:
Car man got a little six Buick, big six Chevrolet car
Car man got a little six Buick, little six Chevrolet car
(spoken: My God, what solid power!)
And it don’t do nothin’ but, follow behind Holloway’s farmer’s plow
Patton’s song leads a rather obscure existence, much like Dylan’s “From A Buick 6”. Dylan himself hardly ever plays it (twice, both times in ’65), there aren’t all that many covers of it, and the film world has largely ignored the song as well. With one exception, that is: the gripping, charming social drama Kisses, an Irish film from 2008. Two young teenagers in love run away from home and experience a wild, frightening and enchanting night in Dublin. The boy is called Dylan, and Bob Dylan is (therefore) a recurring theme in the film. “From A Buick 6” is chosen as the soundtrack for the scene in which the two, having shared half a bottle of beer, run through the city, rowdy and causing a ruckus – the choice of Dylan’s wild, rattling song is spot on.
Fortunately, among the few covers there are a couple of particularly successful ones.
On the remastered version of Johnny Winter’s Still Alive And Well (1973), the song appears as a bonus track, in a rendition just as you’d expect from the albino guitar god: gritty, raw and no fancy rollicks or frolics. Similar in that respect to the macho, rough renditions by veteran Mitch Ryder, who’s had the song on his set list for decades, and similar to the majority of covers: garage rock with screeching bottlenecks, pumping bass and driving drums.
Remodels are more fun. The talented Chuck Prophet writes wonderful songs (for artists including Solomon Burke, Heart and Kim Carnes), enjoyed success in the 1980s with his band Green On Red, and, as a solo artist, isn’t afraid to experiment. “From A Buick 6” has been on his set list for years; it’s always a hit, but is most remarkable when he performs it almost entirely on his own – carried by a particularly catchy guitar riff, accompanied by a rhythm box and delivered more as a recitation than a song via a voice distorter. In the background, his wife Stephanie Finch tentatively plays the keys of her little wonder organ – which could actually have been pushed a bit further into the background.
One of the best covers is done by veteran Gary U.S. Bonds, and we have Bruce Springsteen to thank for it, as he, together with Steven Van Zandt, orchestrated Gary’s resurgence. The duo wrote songs, selected covers, played on the album and produced Bonds’ comeback album Dedication (1981), one of the most successful comeback albums in pop history. Bonds, Little Steven and The Boss approach “From A Buick 6” as a venerable, monumental pop classic, and it works a treat; Dylan’s little ditty suddenly takes on the allure of a “Susie Q” or a “Twist And Shout”. Incidentally, the cover version can also be found on the excellent compilation How Many Roads; Black America Sings Bob Dylan (2010).
The most respectful cover is also the most unconventional: the one by the Canadian master guitarist Ken Hamm. Respectful not so much because of the performance (which is magnificent and unconventional), but because of the setting. In 1998, his remarkable “solo blues” album Galvanized! was released, and it is a gem. Hamm establishes himself as the missing link between Ry Cooder and Leo Kottke, and, playing solo with nothing but his 1930s metal National Duolian Resonator Guitar, fills the album with twenty magnificent renditions of blues classics: the album opens with the Bo Diddley medley “Can’t Judge A Book / Who Do You Love”, pays tribute to Robert Johnson with spot-on versions of “From Four Until Late”, “Come On In My Kitchen” and “32:20 Blues”, to Muddy Waters with “She Moves Me” and “I Can’t Be Satisfied”, Willie Dixon, Lead Belly, Mississippi John Hurt and Charley Patton’s “Shake It And Break It”… Ken Hamm’s Galvanized! is a true Highway 61 Revisited.
And among all those blues gods, Ken’s rendition of Dylan’s “From A Buick 6” shines with casual self-assurance, nestled nonchalantly between Skip James’ “Crow Jane” and “Duncan And Brady” and all those other classics, implicitly acknowledging that, for Ken, the song stands on a par with “Bourgeois Blues”, “Come in My Kitchen” and “Who Do You Love”, that Dylan has his place in a line-up alongside Bo Diddley, Charley Patton and Robert Johnson – that Dylan is one of the milestones along Highway 61.
But what, with all due respect and reverence, we might ultimately almost forget – and which Jan reminds us of, sixty years after Dylan recorded the song – is that it has to be fun too. Jan delivers an irresistible, rolling, high-energy track, propelled by an unbridled drum part and carried by a mercurial organ. Bring a nickel, tap your feet.
To be continued. Next up Jan’s Take 14: Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window?
Previously in the series
- Jan’s Take 1: It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry
- Jan’s Take 2: It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue
- Jan’s Take 3: 4th Time Around
- Jan’s Take 4: To Be Alone With You
- Jan’s Take 5: Ballad Of Hollis Brown
- Jan’s Take 6: I Want You
- Jan’s Take 7: I Pity The Poor Immigrant
- Jan’s Take 8: Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here With You
- Jan’s Take 9: You’re A Big Girl Now
- Jan’s Take 10: Sooner Or Later (One Of Us Must Know)
- Jan’s Take 11: Lay, Lady, Lay
- Jan’s Take 12: Forever Young