As punishment for the devil’s arrogance, God casts Satan from Paradise. Satan, needless to say, is upset at the all-powerful Creator:
So farewell hope, and with hope, farewell fear
Farewell remorse! All good to me is lost
Evil be thou my good
(John Milton: Paradise Lost)
Likewise, as punishment for their arrogance, God arranges Adam and Eve’s expulsive from Eden; their earthly paradise gets closed to them.
And Dr. Frankenstein’s creation is certainly upset by the way his Creator treats him:
I, the miserable, and the abandoned ... Kicked and trampled on
Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice
Evil thenceforth became my good
(Mary Shelley: Frankenstein)
An obverse biblical motif that’s not lost in the lyrics of a number of songs written by Bob Dylan.
From the get-go:
I'm as weary as Hell
The confusion I'm feeling
Ain't no tongue can tell ...
That if God's on our side
He'll stop the next war
(Bob Dylan: With God On Our Side)
But no. War, the orginal sin that ultimately rests at the foot of the Almighty’s throne; a sin for which brave humans pay the price; ie, even dying in a ditch afterwards because of the depressive mental effects left by fighting in one:
They started up Iwo Jima Hill, 250 men
But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again
And when the fight was over, and Old Glory raised
One of the men who held it high was the Indian Ira Hayes
(Bob Dylan: The Ballad Of Ira Hayes ~ La Farge)
God’s original sin, He passes on to Satan, and the devil passes it on down to Adam; it sure ain’t the Almighty’s fault:
Temptation's not an easy thing
Adam given the devil reign
Because he sinned, I got no choice
It run in my vein
(Bob Dylan: Pressing On)
A sorrowful fate for human beings; expressed in the following song verse:
Ten thousand men standing on a hill
Ten thousand men on a hill
Some of'em going down
Some of'em gonna get killed
(Bob Dylan: Ten Thousand Men)
https://youtu.be/s3GJ2W3ZZ8Q
Alluding to the satirical nursery rhyme below:
Oh the grand old Duke of York
He had ten thousand men
He marched them up to the top of the hill
And he marched them down again
(The Grand Old Duke Of York)
Conflicts, big or small, a ‘gift’ given to His human ‘ingrates’ by a vengeful God:
One of these days, you'll be in the ditch
Flies buzzing around your eyes
Blood on your saddle
(Bob Dylan: Idiot Wind)
There’s little doubt – it’s better to be the Almighty Creator:
I've been visiting morgues and monasteries
Looking for the necessary body parts
Limbs and livers, and brains and hearts
I'll bring somebody back to life, it's what I wanna do
I wanna create my own version of you
(Bob Dylan: My Own Version Of You)
And a nonvengeful Creator at that (at least one who has a keen sense of humour):
I'm here to create the New Imperial Order
I'm going to do whatever circumstances require
I care so much for you, didn't think I could
I can't tell my heart that you're no good
(Bob Dylan: Honest With Me)
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with over 14,000 members.
Aaron: Leyendas de la Guitarra was a concert held over five nights, from October 15 to October 19, 1991 in Seville. It was held to draw attention to Expo 92 held the following year. To read more about the event head over here for all the details:
I pulled some interesting information from the article
5 ninety-minute shows were held, together with a documentary that lasted an hour.
45 countries around the world televised the event.
80 artists performed at the event.
26 of the worlds best guitarists were the main attraction.
6,000 people attended the concerts each night.
105 countries broadcast the shows on the radio.
Dylan performed a five-song set including a guest guitarist (the identity of whom I will leave a secret from Tony for now!) and a duet with Keith Richards.
Here are a couple of my favorite moments for Tony to look at followed by the whole set.
Across The Borderline
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=B1KGTI85I-M
Tony:I wondered what you were setting up for me Aaron, but ah well, it is Richard Thompson of course. Yet I don’t know, but somehow the two great superstars don’t quite seem to mix here for me. The Thompson solos are sublime, as they always are, and yet it is almost as if he is trying too hard to do too much in the presence of the almighty Bob. Maybe I misjudge it, but I somehow think that in this recording less would be more.
But since Aaron gets to choose the tracks and writes his intro first, that means I come in behind, and get the say on what the piece finally looks like. So I’m going to slip in something else, which has absolutely no connection with the rest of the article. Of course it would be unfair on Aaron to disjoint his work here, so I’ll leave it to the end. It is, if you know your musical terminology, a coda.
Answer Me, My Love
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aB-_4NiDr9M
This is actually a German song that was translated and became a hit in the 1950s. I know we had a copy of the song in my parents’ house as a 78rpm track by David Whitfield.
I simply don’t understand what it is that Bob is doing here, it just seems over-embellished in a way that doesn’t work musically, at least not for me. I can imagine it working with a piano accompaniment, but with the two guitarists, seemingly unrehearsed, vying with each other… it’s not quite right.
It’s a fine 1950s ballad, but I am not sure it is much more than that.
Aaron: Dylan’s five song set included:
All Along The Watchtower 2. Boots Of Spanish Leather 3. Across The Borderline (Ry Cooder/John Hiatt/Jim Dickinson) 4. Answer Me, My Love (Gerhard Winkler/Fred Rauch/Carl Sigman) – LIVE DEBUT 5. DUET w/ Keith Richards: Shake, Rattle And Roll (C. Calhoun)
Tony: I get the impression, that during Shake Rattle and Roll Bob is seriously wondering what he is actually doing with these guys on this stage at this time. But then maybe I expect too much, and maybe also it’s because I can remember versions from days of yore. And just in case anyone is interested, here’s the Bill Hayley recording which was a big hit in Britain.
Tony: I did actually get to see Bill Hayley in concert near the end of his life. It wasn’t a spectacular evening, but at least I have been able to say evermore that I did see him perform live.
Anyway, back to the Richard Thompson issue, here’s the coda selected by me without Aaron’s knowledge. And I add it, because I would hate anyone to think what they have heard on the recordings above is what Richard Thompson is all about.
Time magazine called this “a glorious example of what one guy can accomplish with just a guitar, a voice, an imagination and a set of astonishingly nimble fingers.” This version has an instrumental break that was written for this tour – hence the appreciation of the audience.
It really is one of the most extraordinary pieces of music from popular culture ever. Just look at Richard’s smile at the end. He knows not only has he just given a superb performance, but it is a superb performance of one of the very greatest popular music creations of all time. A song that stands up there with “Visions of Johanna” and “Desolation Row”.
Sorry for not appreciating your selection Aaron, but thank you for giving me a route back in for another presentation of Richard Thompson.
OK a bit of a retreat into my old rock n roll days with this one, not to mention my teenage years.
“I love you too much” (sometimes written as “I (must) love you too much” for reasons that will not become clear at this point), it’s not the best known of Bob’s songs (or I should say co-compositions – this being written by Helena Springs), but even if nothing else, this track is worth it for the wonderful guitar solo, and the memories of a fabulous musician.
Of course in situations like this there are all sorts of other factors that come in – although as I start to explain, I would add that I’ve selected this recording because I really do enjoy the recording, and think it is a superb interpretation of the song, not for the reasons below.
So, to explain. Greg Lake and I were born in the same year (I’m still here however, sadly Greg is not) and he was brought up in Oakdale, a suburb of Poole in Dorset (on the English south coast). Of far less interest to anyone except me is the fact that from the age of 11, my family lived just up the road from Greg, in Broadstone, and I used to travel through Oakdale every day on the bus on the way to and from school.
According to Wiki, “At the age of 12, he first learned to play the guitar and wrote his first song, “Lucky Man“. I started on the piano before moving to Dorset with my family, and took up the guitar a little later (I was 13).
I know we didn’t go to the same school – he was at Henry Harbin, and I was down the road at Poole Grammar, but the bus I took to and from school each day went via Oakdale and then past Henry Harbin school, so it is possible – just possible – that he and I were on the same bus. Such is my connection with fame!
He became a professional musician aged 17; I was still at school in the daytime doing my A levels with the hope of going to university, and (to my parent’s dismay), playing a mix of Dylan songs and my own compositions in a folk club in Bournemouth in the evening, when not exploring the world of dancing. I just got side-tracked I guess.
Anyway, enough of my ancient days. This is the only cover of “I love you too much” that I can find, and it is a really great rock version. I love it for the music that it is, but I must admit I also love the notion that maybe Greg Lake and I were on the same bus together day after day going to and from school.
Greg Lake died on 7 December 2016, after suffering from cancer for a long while. His music however is still very much with us, and I’m rather grateful I’m still here to write about it. And to listen to Greg Lake’s music.
The details of “Cover a day” follow after this little note about Untold Dylan….
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with over 14,000 members.
In the autumn of 1967, the Big Pink in Woodstock has exotic visitors: The Bauls of Bengal. Manager Albert Grossman had met the troubadour family in Calcutta and invited the men to America. We see two of them, the brothers Purnan and Luxman Das (or: Purna and Lakhsman), flanking Dylan in the cover photo of John Wesley Harding. Dylan reportedly enjoyed hanging out with them, calling himself, according to Purnan in an interview with The Telegraph India in 1995, “an American Baul”.
The funniest anecdote comes from Levon Helm, who in his autobiography This Wheel’s On Fire (1993) reports on a pleasant evening sharing a good joint with Luxman. “Good weed,” Levon says appreciatively to Luxman.
“Very good, but nothing like my father used to smoke—little hashish, little tobacco, little head of snake.”
I said, “Wait a minute. Did you say ‘snake head’?”
And Luxman laughed. “Yes, by golly! Chop off head of snake, chop into tiny pieces, put in chillum with little hash, little tobacco. Oh, boy! Very good—first-class high!”
“Snake?” I pressed him. “Are you sure you mean snake?”
Now they’re all laughing. “Yes! Very good! Head of snake!”
It is a wonderful anecdote with a high Monty Python quality. Michael Palin as Luxman, and the role of Levon Helm should, of course, be played by John Cleese. In terms of content, it is already strong because of the absurdity of the plot, and stylistically because of Luxman’s naturalness and perfect timing (first hash, then tobacco, and finally “little head of snake”), and especially because of his use of language – the combination of broken sentences with brutal imperatives (“chop off head”) and corny idioms like “oh, boy” and particularly “by golly” is irresistible.
Dylan, the language-sensitive word artist, will have saved it somewhere, only to put it in the right place about a year later, when he has “Peggy Day” up his sleeve:
Peggy Day stole my poor heart away
By golly, what more can I say
Love to spend the night with Peggy Day
Initially, the album and the song are received with some goodwill. It sells well, “Lay Lady Lay” becomes a big hit and reviews are friendly. Like in Newsweek (“Peggy Day” is almost a pastiche of the Thirties – its rhythms recall “swing” and Dylan sings with the kind of light-hearted showmanship that used to come from college bandstands).
And in New Musical Express, 19 April 1969:
“In the final track on side one, Dylan makes it abundantly clear he’d like to spend the night with ‘Peggy Day’. Eminently hummable, and probably the ‘Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da’ of ‘Nashville Skyline’. The guitars chatter away, a pedal guitar break, and a rousing blues climax.”
Time, or rather professional Dylanologists, are not too kind to the charming little ditty “Peggy Day”. Clinton Heylin calls the song “embarrassing”, Howard Sounes finds it “vacuous”, Mike Marqusee catalogues it as “an exercise in deliberate banality”, and Ian Bell feels little affection for it either: “Possibly the poorest song Dylan had sanctioned for release since his earliest apprentice days.” Shelton is still the kindest: “Dylan has some fun with the clichés of country and country-music whimsy on Peggy Day.”
In fan circles, the song, like the entire Nashville Skyline album, is in the yo-yo category. Burned down and slammed, until an undercurrent of fans hoist “Peggy Day” up on a shield and then, without too much justification, appreciate the “irony” or alleged double meanings or – quite on the contrary – the purity. And when the undercurrent becomes an overcurrent, the opposing forces mobilise again, and the process starts all over again. More or less the same dynamic as in the appreciation of, for example, Street-Legal, “Make You Feel My Love” and Saved.
On the other side of the divide are fans like Elvis Costello (“the songs sounded like great Tin Pan Alley tunes to me, especially my favourite cut, Peggy Day”) and Nick Cave, for whom Nashville Skyline is the all-time favourite album.
The negative comments are – obviously – from the disappointed ones, from the fans who use reference points like “Visions Of Johanna” and “Tangled Up In Blue”. Still, the song itself is not that bad; “Peggy Day” is an unambitious piece of craftsmanship by a Song and Dance Man – no more, but certainly no less.
The first bars make that clear right away; a fairly generic chord progression, F – D7 – Gm – C7, a progression we know from dozens of songs, from “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You”, from “Stars Fell On Alabama” to Patsy Cline’s “Crazy”, and from “Georgia On My Mind” to The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Daydream” – just to name a few. And just as generic are the opening lyrics;
Peggy Day stole my poor heart away
… a protagonist who self-pitifully laments “my poor heart” is known not from dozens, but from hundreds of songs. And a considerable number of those can be found in Dylan’s personal jukebox. Big Bill Broonzy’s “Southbound Train”, for example, and “Trouble In Mind”, “I Got It Bad (And That Ain’t Good)”, “Don’t Blame Me”, “You Are My Sunshine”, “Wildwood Flower”, and “The Sky Is Crying”… the chances of hitting a my poor heart while pressing any button on the jukebox with your eyes closed are pretty good.
Dylan himself probably prefers, especially here and now in Nashville, to sing along with his hero George Jones, who sings “Time Changes Everything” (When you left me my poor heart was broken) on the tribute album to another of Dylan’s heroes, George Jones Sings Bob Wills from 1962. Or with Hank Williams’ “We Live in Two Different Worlds” (Oh how my poor heart will pine). Or in the song that will form a blueprint for Dylan’s late masterpiece “Red River Shore”, Gene Autry’s version of “Red River Valley” from 1946, or in the song that Dylan also has in his repertoire in the early 60s, in “Handsome Molly” (My poor heart is aching / You are at your ease).
Bob Wills, George Jones, Hank Williams, Gene Autry… none of Dylan’s greatest country heroes are ashamed of the tearful, melodramatic my poor heart. So Dylan will certainly not feel too big for it either. But the disappointed ones may indeed regret that the song and dance man doesn’t wrap that poor heart in a frenzied rhyming verse with vicious outbursts. Like that other Greatest Songwriter of the Twentieth Century, Cole Porter, does:
My poor heart is achin'
To bring home some bacon
And if I find myself alone and forsaken
It's simply because I'm the laziest gal in town
“The Laziest Gal in Town”, one of those boisterous rhyming brilliants by grandmaster Cole Porter. Often recorded and often performed, but rarely as breath-taking as by Marlene Dietrich in her white negligee in Hitchcock’s Stage Fright from 1950.
La Dietrich is still defeated though, by the way. Fourteen years later, by the lady who stands on a marble pedestal with Dylan as well, by Nina Simone.
Yes, by golly.
To be continued. Next up: Peggy Day part 2
—————
Jochen is a regular reviewer of Dylan’s work on Untold. His books, in English, Dutch and German, are available via Amazon both in paperback and on Kindle:
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published once or twice a day. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with over 14,000 members.
Proper research by Jochen Markhorst and Aaron Galbraith. General commentary, pulling together of information, personal opinion and probably the addition of errors, by Tony Attwood.
Kaatskill Serenade
A while back I was asked my opinion of the David Bromberg sessions of 1992 or there abouts, where it is suggested Dylan worked on an album that never was.
The suggestion is that it was an album that Dylan was working on but abandoned, and obviously as such since this site aims to cover all of Dylan’s work it is something we ought to be looking at and listening to.
My interest was peaked by the fact that there are quite a few songs listed as being on the album that I either don’t know or have forgotten, and I always find it interesting to hear them – but more than that, it is interesting to know what Dylan was listening to is itself always interesting as a source of inspiration.
Just Because / Just Because You Didn’t Answer, written by Thom Bishop
Field Of Stone (Would You Lay With Me)
Annie’s Song / Annie’s Going to Sing Her Song
Jugband Song
Rock Me Baby
Send Me To The ‘lectric Chair
Gotta Do My Time
Su Su’s Got A Mohawk / Susu Got a Mohawk
Northeast Texas Woman
Sail On
Can’t Lose What You Never Had
World Of Fools
Everybody’s Crying Mercy
Tennessee Blues
Summer Wages
Casey Jones
Morning Blues
Young Westley
The Lady Came From Baltimore
New Lee Highway Blues
Rise Again
Duncan & Brady
The Main Street Moan
Nobody’s Fault But Mine
Miss The Mississippi & You
Sloppy Drunk
Jochen immediately pointed out that in the list on the website “Lady Came From Baltimore” was noted as traditional, but it was composed by Tim Hardin. But that one slip suggests that this is not a list picked up directly from the source – Bob Dylan would know that, so this makes me think it is an engineer’s collection and notation or something akin to that.
Aaron pointed out that two of the tracks, “Miss the Mississippi and me” and “Duncan and Brady” appeared on the Tell Tale Signs boxset.
The first of the three recordings that Jochen found was Kaatskill Serenade which is not actually on the list above (and so I’m already confused) but it certainly is Dylan and mr tambourine also notes it as being from these sessions. Here is David Bromberg’s version
The transformation that Dylan has made between the original and his version is just so overwhelming I can hardly take it in. Hearing the Bromberg original, this is not a song that I find that interesting, perhaps because the lyrics are just so obvious and plaintive and if I may say, mawkish. But because Bob obscures them and sings it as if he feels every second of what is being described it becomes an utterly different piece.
In short, Bob sings it as if he were part of it, which is a sense the original doesn’t portray. This recording by Dylan is, in short, for me, an utter masterpiece of reinterpretation. Dylan shows here in one fell swoop that not only can he write songs that others can reinterpret in their own ways, sometimes adding to the song, he can do the reverse. And how!
I’ll stop here and continue later. For the moment just enjoy this remarkable performance.
Friedrich Nietzsche would likely be embarrassed by the following statement:
“Christianity was an epidemic rather than a religion. It appealed to fear, hysteria, and ignorance.”
(Colin Wilson: The Occult)
Nietzsche did not claim that Christianity be a psychological ‘sickness’ akin to Sigmund Freud’s displacement of repressed sexual desires, but rather “the morality of slaves” – the religion serves to keep most of the powerless ‘good’ (that is, passive) in their masters’ vineyards; they’re assured their reward awaits in the ‘afterlife’ where any ‘evil’ overlords are destined to receive their just desserts.
Singer/songwriter, musician Bob Dylan could be said to bring Colin Wilson back to life along with John Calvin and William Blake albeit in Post Modern format:
Calvin, Blake, and Wilson
Gambled in the dark
Not one of them would ever live
To tell the tale of the disembark
(Bob Dylan: Tempest)
William Blake puts the ‘idealistic’ thinking of the likes of Saint Augustine, John Calvin, and Emanuel Swedenborg out to death. Colin Wilson turns William Blake on his head, and tries to bring neo-Platonism to life by refitting religion and merging it with modern science-oriented “western” society.
Wilson replaces Friedrich Nietzsche’s adventurist “Overman” with the “Outsider”, the latter able to get in touch with ‘spiritual’ worlds, both good and evil, that are far beyond the physical senses, senses that can only give a ‘narrow’ peak into what exists outside; the creative imagination inside the human mind opens up all kinds of future visions, of possible worlds, spaces that are closed off to most human beings by the rigid structures imposed by regimented society.
Novelist Colin Wilson apparently agrees with Nietzsche that the Universe is disinterested in the fate of Mankind which causes humans to be alienated therefrom; therefore, constructed is supposed-to-be-reality based in part on how the outside world has been perceived in the past.
The Outsider seeks to flee such constraints and go where no man, except those like Emanuel Swedenborg, have gone before.
Nietzsche asserts Man has a Will to Power that causes him to have a belief in an ‘afterlife’; that is, if he has little social and economic control over his present life; the masters, on the hand, has no time for this “slave morality”, a morality of the weak that is essentially pessimistic with regard to human existence on Earth.
Colin Wilson puts a positive spin on Nietzsche’s dark view, and formulates a New Existentialism – there must be other worlds including an ‘afterlife’ somewhere beyond the self because lots of writings contend there are.
Wilson presents a ‘gnostic’ vision where there are sparks emanated from afar within us that may blaze afire, if not now, then after we die – so intuited by ‘gifted’ artists like himself anyway – Karl Jung, for instance, who asserts there is an ‘essence’ that precedes existence.
A view not completely dismissed by the narrator in the following song lyrics:
Well, I'm a stranger here in a strange land
And I know this is where I belong
I'll ramble, and gamble for the one I love
And the hills will give me a song
(Bob Dylan: Red River Shore)
Colin Wilson elevates himself to a higher ‘spiritual plain’ though. Emanuel Swedenborg’s ‘gnostic’ optimism tells him that there are special people who are able to grasp more than just glimpses of this eternal ‘aferlife’; it’s more than wishful thinking. There’s a problem though – that which is considered reality these days gets in the way.
That Old Existentialist “reality” expressed in the song lyrics beneath:
Lonliness, tenderness, high society, notoriety
You fight for the throne, and you travel alone
Unknown as you slowly sink
And there's no time to think
(Bob Dylan: No Time To Think)
The narrators in the song lyrics of Bob Dylan, more often than not, take a middle path. Like William Blake – that is to say, mythologies are created by the human imagination entangled with the perceptions from sensing the external world, like observing reflections from a broken glass.
To these artists, modern times be too materialistic in orientation, but there is a spiritual world; not ‘out there’ somewhere beyond the Platonic ‘horizon line’, but instead, beneath our feet, and above our heads – on the horizon line, not beyond it.
With a little bit of luck that ‘tightrope’ can be straddled – the narrator below might be said to put his boot heels to Colin Wilson’s New Existentialism.
Tells the tale of the disembark:
Now, we heard the Sermon on the Mount
And I knew it was too complex
I didn't amount to anything more
Than what the broken glass reflects
When you bite off more than you can chew
You got to pay the penalty
Someone's got to tell the tale
I guess it's up to me
(Bob Dylan: Up To Me)
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published once or twice a day. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with over 14,000 members.
Aaron: Dylan has performed at several tribute concerts over the years. Let’s take a look at three which might have passed you by!
First, the Martin Luther King tribute concert, Washington DC 1986. Here he performs a completely rewritten version of “I Shall be Released”, followed by “Blowing in the wind” with Stevie Wonder and Peter Paul and Mary.
Here are the new lyrics for I shall be released – I believe this was the only performance of this set of lyrics:
They say every man needs protection
They say that every man must fall
I swear I see my own reflection
Somewhere so high above this wall
I see my light come shinin'
I don't need no doctor or no priest
Any day now
I shall be released
It don't take much to be a criminal
One wrong move and they'll turn you into one
At first decay is just subliminal
To protect yourself and your forever on the run
I see my light come shinin'
I don't need no doctor or no priest
Any day now,
I shall be released
He will find you where your stayin'
Even in the arms of somebody else's wife
Your laughin' now, you should be prayin'
To be in the midnight hour of your life
I see my light come shinin'
I don't need no doctor or no priest
Any day now,
I shall be released
Tony:Now there is a first. Whoever else would rhyme “criminal” with “subliminal”? I am not too sure of what to make of the new lyrics, but I do love the musical change with “Any day now” being delayed.
“Blowing in the Wind” was performed by the trio at the Civil Rights march at which Martin Luther King Junior delivered his “I have a dream” speech. And if that was all they had done that would have been enough for immortality but of course, there was a lot more; the inevitable highs and lows of members of a successful band both in terms of recordings and personal life.
But what fascinates me most is “I don’t need no doctor nor no priest”. Dylan’s 18 months or so of writing only songs with a religious theme was 1979/80, so he had had plenty of time to move on, and the suggestion that he will find “release” without the intercession of the church is a fundamentally anti-Christian church view. As I understand it, the Christian churches preach that the formal church is the only way to heaven. Salvation through one’s own efforts by having a good life and without any formal religiosity or belief is a major challenge to organised religion, and I’ve not noticed Bob proclaim that elsewhere. But maybe I’ve not been paying attention properly.
Aaron:Then in 2004 at Apollo at 70: A Hot Night In Harlem, 19 June 2004 Bob performed A Change Is Gonna Come
Tony:It is interesting to see different personalities introduce Dylan in different ways – this is with the emphasis on “a change is going to come”. It was written by Sam Cooke – and as it played I began to wonder what song Dylan has written that predicts change for the good will come. I’m probably forgetting obvious examples, as I sit here writing this without looking things up (part of the rules of the game) but leaving aside the 18 months of religious writing, does Bob ever suggest this?
I’ve oft pointed out that “Times they are a changin” does not talk about change that comes about because of mankind’s efforts. Just that stuff happens and things change. And this song says the same – it is in fact a litany of what is wrong with the world
Then I go to my brother
And I say, brother, help me please
But he winds up, knockin' me
Back down on my knees
So in this regard it is very much like “Times” in that it proclaims things will change, but doesn’t once suggest that it will be because of any overt action by people. It just happens.
And this song has an interesting past. It was released as the B-side of “Shake” and was in fact issued soon after Sam Cooke had died in 1964. It was a hit, but not a huge hit.
Aaron: Last up this time from the Tony Bennett 90th birthday concert comes Once Upon A Time.
Tony: Actually that is one of the best introductions of Bob that I’ve heard. Nice and short and accurate. And this shows Bob’s voice at its best. Indeed if I heard this without any knowledge of who it was I am not sure I would have guessed it was Dylan. There’s a touch of vibrato in the voice, and no stretching for the high notes.
But there’s also something here that suggests the singer is not totally happy with the range of the song – these classics tending to have a much wider vocal range than Bob’s own compositions.
Fascinating to see him perform by holding the mic stand. I wonder what brought that on!
I do recognise that as, at the moment I am not writing a new episode of A Dylan Cover a Day the title has become somewhat inappropriate – but then changing the title to A Dylan Cover Every Week or So would seem a bit naff, so I am sticking with the original in the vague hope that the level of work I’m trying to do at the moment will reduce and I can return, if not to a cover a day, then maybe a cover every other day.
And of course there is the excuse that there are now quite a few episodes of this little series and you may not have appreciated every recording within it so there is a back catalogue, as it were. A list is at the end.
“I don’t believe you” is not a highly covered song, and it is one of those pieces that is so individual in terms of its opening phrases with its extraordinary rhythm around “I can’t understand she let go of my hand” that makes it hard to think of any major variation from the original.
In case you have any interest in terms of what Dylan does musically it goes something like this: “I can’t understand she let go of my hand” has 16 fast beats which are basically in two groups of eight, with each group of eight divided into a rhythm of 1 2 3, 1 2 3, 1 2. The “1” in each group having an accent.
But it is sung at speed we hear it as a complete flowing line, and I gues for most people it is not until you come to play it with an accompaniment that it becomes clear how the only alternatives are to play it as per Dylan, or to re-write it so completely that it doesn’t sound like the same song in any way, and actually sounds far less than Dylan’s version.
This certainly didn’t stop Bob performing it – around 350 times – but it makes life hard for anyone seeking a variation.
Waylong Jennings turns it into a country song and forgets the rhythm of the original and goes into a straight 4/4 times. It is typical of the solutions, and it makes the song a fair bit less bland than the original.
And that version is typical of most. It is a hard search to find artists willing to accept the essence of the song is within the rhythm. Ian and Sylvia do take the song as it is and full credit to them and their band for taking it on. I find the opening of each verse a little too twinkly for my taste, but knowing the complexity of the piece, I give them full credit. The bassist in particular has worked a way of making this happen so that the ensemble has something to hold onto.
There are a number of non-English language versions, but again they either wipe out the rhythm, which is the essence of the song, or simply do it like Dylan, which I guess is ok since they have translated the song for their local audience. Such recordings are not intended for English speakers, so one can’t criticise.
But Larholm Wik and Rydstrom do break through this boundary in my view.
If you are interested in this band, of which I can discover little beyond the fact that the album containing this track is on Spotify (at least if you have an account, not sure if it is available on the free version) and the whole album is really interesting even though I don’t speak Swedish. But it does seem the guys came together to make this album as a one off and that was it. If that is the case, all I can say is I am rather pleased they did.
The details of “Cover a day” follow after this little note about Untold Dylan….
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with over 14,000 members.
2003 is one of Dylan’s most energetic and innovative years as he adapts his songs, old and new, to his shift from playing guitar to playing keyboard. The big difference between Dylan’s guitar and his piano playing is that with the guitar he mostly picks single notes whereas with the piano he mostly vamps, playing chords, and rarely attempts to take the lead.
This gives the songs a different rhythmical foundation. In some cases his piano playing has a baroque feel, an echo of the age of madrigals. We heard that clearly with ‘Love Minus Zero’ and ‘Girl from the North Country’ (see NET, 2003, part 2). We hear it again on this sensitive rendition of ‘Boots of Spanish Leather,’ that most poignant of farewell songs from 1963. One of the few Dylan songs we could describe as a tear-jerker, as a lover bids farewell to his love who is travelling abroad, and she asks him what she can send him ‘from across that lonesome ocean.’
It’s one of Dylan’s best conversation songs as it moves back and forth between the soon to be separated lovers. This one’s from Birmingham, 21st Nov.
Boots of Spanish Leather
The upsinging is noticeable, but I find that, judiciously used, upsinging can lift the mood or spirit of the song. In this case, it suggests the lover struggling to stay cheerful or hopeful in the face of his sorrow.
We could make a similar observation about this performance of ‘I Shall Be Released.’ I found this on the Red Bluff setlist (7th Oct) while the official Bob Dylan website does not show the song being performed in 2003. Again the upsinging seems to suggest hope, hope for the fulfilment of the yearning for release the song expresses – or at least a struggle for that hope. While we might find the upsinging an annoying mannerism, I feel that it may, at least at times, have a function in terms of the emotional valency of the song in question.
It’s an oblique little song that somehow manages to be about innocence, guilt, vulnerability and redemption in three short verses.
There’s a bit too much audience noise on this one for my liking (people who pay good money to blab their way through concerts are a mystery to me) but Dylan’s performance is too good to miss.
I shall be released.
The piano plays a subtle and supportive role in this Red Bluff performance of ‘You’re A Big Girl Now’ from Blood On The Tracks, this time leaning more towards quiet, Diana Krall style jazz than the baroque. Dylan’s style remains emphatic and ‘primitive,’ like the old time 1930s players, but it nicely underpins this sensitive rendition of the song and is one of Dylan’s best piano performances. Potentially, it’s also a tear-jerker, but there is a robustness to the performance that carries us through the pain of knowing that someone we have loved is out there, ‘in somebody’s room.’
You’re a big girl now.
‘Moonlight’ (Love and Theft) takes us deeper into the 1930s and the ambience of the music from that era. It could be a song from that era but for a Dylanesque twist to the lyrics:
Well I’m preaching peace and harmony
The blessings of tranquility
But I know when the time is right to strike
The suspicion grows that, since he has to ask her so many times to meet him that the game is already lost. I’m sticking with the Red Bluff concert because of the quality of the performances and the recording. Exquisite.
Moonlight
We hop across to Hammersmith (24th Nov) to catch another ace performance from Love and Theft, ‘Cry A While,’ a song with a complex musical structure as it switches from fast to slow tempo, from jazz to blues and back again. Dylan certainly nails the vocal on this one. I found I had to refer back to the lyrics to follow him, a rewarding exercise as it turned out. It’s lyrically complex too. While the territory of heartbreak is familiar, in typical Dylan fashion the lyrics refer to events and situations not fully explained. Despite the heartbreak and accusations, we find that same strain of humour than runs through the whole album.
Well, there’s preachers in the pulpits and babies in the cribs
I'm longing for that sweet fat that sticks to your ribs
I'm gonna buy me a barrel of whiskey
I'll die before I turn senile
The underlying feeling of the song, however, is of disillusionment and anger. The kind of anger you feel when you’ve done enough crying:
I’m on the fringes of the night,
fighting back tears that I can’t control
Some people they ain’t human, they got no heart or soul
Well, I’m crying to the Lord, I’m tryin’ to be meek and mild
Yes, I cried for you, now it’s your turn, you can cry a while
I can’t find high enough praise for this performance. Ricci’s drumming and Garnier’s bass playing are awe-inspiring. The way the tempo switches are managed, the mastery of jazz and blues forms demonstrated, and Dylan’s wonderful piano and vocal, make this a standout performance.
Cry A While (A)
Lovers of the song, however, might also enjoy this performance (3rd Nov, Zürich). While it’s not as crisply recorded as the Hammersmith performance, Dylan does another outstanding vocal
Cry A While (B)
Let’s stay with Love and Theft for ‘Summer Days,’ that fast-paced celebration of a bygone era. The lyrics are a wonderful mix of nonsense and half-sense – with a bit of protest thrown in:
Politician got on his jogging shoes
He must be running for office, got no time to lose
He been suckin' the blood out of the genius of generosity
You been rolling your eyes, you been teasing me
The song is full of exuberance with a kind of throw-away feel to it. This kind of jump jazz was made for dancing. Another Hammersmith performance – wish I’d been there.
Summer Days (A)
That Hammersmith performance is equally matched by this one from Red Bluff. I’ve been jumping from one to the other trying to decide which is best, but there is no ‘best’ here, just excellence all around.
Summer Days (B)
‘Honest With Me,’ also from Love and Theft, is another fast-paced dancing song, but the lyric is much darker despite the vein of humour. Sometimes the humour from Love and Theft reminds me of The Basement Tapes from 1967:
My woman got a face like a teddy bear
She's tossin' a baseball bat in the air
The meat is so tough, you can't cut it with a sword
I'm crashin' my car trunk first into the board
They say that my eyes are pretty and my smile is nice
Well, I'd sell it to ya at a reduced price
Sarcasm and flippancy mix smoothly in with the deadly serious:
Well, I came ashore in the dead of the night
Lot of things can get in the way
when you're tryin' to do what's right
Honest with Me
Note the minimal piano, very much in the background.
The first track on Love and Theft is ‘Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,’ a song I’ve not been able to form a close connection with. Perhaps it’s the lack of variation in the melodic/vocal line, perhaps it’s the obscurity of the song, but something doesn’t click. I can’t complain, however, about the performance, this one from London (23rd Nov). I do feel he’s struggling to keep it interesting, but maybe that’s just me struggling to stay interested. Again, a very minimal piano.
Tweedle Dee Tweedle Dum
Before getting any older, we have to listen to two magnificent performances of ‘Things Have Changed.’ It took me a while to get into this song. It wasn’t until I heard a 2012 version that I ‘got it’ and was able to go back and listen to the earlier performances. Dylan’s been singing it for a couple of years now, and by 2003 the song was coming into its own. It creates a paradoxical effect, to sing so passionately about not caring. He cares enough to give the song a most loving treatment.
This first one’s from Berlin, 20th October. The recording is a little muted, but Dylan’s vocal performance is outstanding. My favourite line: ‘If the bible’s right, the world’s about to explode…’
Things have changed (A)
This one’s from New York (8th Dec). The recording’s a bit sharper and Dylan is right on form.
Things have changed (B)
2003 was the last year for ‘Jokerman.’ This 1984 song has been an intermittent visitor to Dylan’s setlists, and has always been, to my mind, a difficult song to pull off. It’s lyrically complex and melodically demanding for the singer. It has moments of lyricism and digs deep into philosophy and theology, even mentioning the Book of Deuteronomy in the Old Testament, a book full of measurements, rules and regulations. It’s all about freedom and keeping ‘one step ahead of the persecutor within.’ This wide-ranging lyric reminds me of Street Legal and ‘Changing of the Guards.’ It’s furiously eclectic. It’s well worth pulling up the lyrics to read while you listen.
Jokerman
Let’s finish with three upbeat songs from the London concert. Dylan’s London performance of ‘The Mighty Quinn’ turns out to be another last ever. He only performed it once in 2003 compared to four performances in 2002. It’s a pity in a way, as it might feel like a throw-away song but it has plenty of verve and bounce, makes for a lighter moment. It’s rough and raw and rather raucous, and all good fun.
The Mighty Quinn
‘Down Along the Cove’ aims for a comfortable groove within 12 bar blues structure. It’s a joyous song about meeting your love, your ‘bundle of joy.’ This performance has the feel of Chicago blues about it. It has a fresh feel, and Dylan’s quite happy to make up some new lyrics for it.
Down along the cove
Also raw and rowdy is this performance of ‘You Go Your Way, I’ll Go Mine’ from Blonde on Blonde. Dylan’s voice sounds pretty played out on this one, but it’s nice to hear a bit of harp work. Hardly as smooth as the album version. The title sounds like a popular saying, but other than a cowboy song called ‘You go your way darling, I’ll go mine’ by Eddie Arnold, I can find little reference to it outside of the Bob Dylan song.
You go your way
So we go our separate ways, but I’ll be back shortly with more sounds from 2003.
Kia Ora
———-
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with some 14,000 members.
After the recording of “Dirt Road Blues”, the song is left behind. Left alone and lonely, even; all the other songs from Time Out Of Mind find their way to the stage, but “Dirt Road Blues” immediately disappears under the dust of the dirt road. And stays there. At least until 2003, when the song is dug up and dusted off, for just one single time. Not completely dusted, though. Just a little.
Malcom Burn, multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer on 1989’s Oh Mercy, the “real” predecessor to Time Out Of Mind, tells a peculiar anecdote that plays out in the run-up to the recording sessions. In the days leading up to Dylan’s arrival, when Lanois and he are busy preparing the recordings, they receive a music cassette in the mail. From Dylan.
“And so Dan and I and Mark Howard, the other engineer, we sat down to listen to this cassette, and we put it in the machine – and this Al Jolson music started playing. And we were like, “What the Fuck? Al Jolson?” So, we fast-forwarded it, and it was just a whole tape of Al Jolson.”
It also includes a note from Dylan. “Listen to this. You can learn a lot.” Much later, halfway through the recording, Malcolm remembers this strange instruction, and now he understands at least something of it. During a break, Dylan tells us how important phrasing is. “You can have really great lyrics, but if you don’t deliver them properly, they’re not gonna mean a thing.” And somewhere in that conversation Dylan says, “My two favourite singers are Frank Sinatra and Al Jolson.”
Al Jolson was, of course, a great singer, and the “world’s greatest entertainer”, as DJ Dylan appreciatively agrees (Theme Time Radio Hour, Ep. 23, “California”), but survives – perhaps unfairly – as the most famous blackface singer ever. On Google’s “images” page, for example, 8 of the first 10 hits are Jolson in blackface. And that’s how he appears, as an apparition, as a blackfaced ghost, in one of the most memorable scenes from that remarkable Dylan film Masked & Anonymous (2003).
Towards the end of the film, Jack Fate stands in his trailer in front of the mirror shaving, while the irritating and pushy journalist Tom Friend tries to provoke him with suggestive questions. Fate remains silent and responds with an insipid look at best, until Friend touches him. Fate brusquely pushes the startled Friend away, who reproachfully says, “Hey man, I’m on your side.” With that, Friend gets a first word out of Fate:
Fate: That depends on your point of view. Friend: Hey, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. Fate: I doubt it.
Fate steps out of the door as the single line “Tangled up in blue” sounds vaguely in the background, and walks onto the carnival-like set. Now, at 1:25:25, the soundtrack sets in “Dirt Road Blues”. Not the Time Out Of Mind recording. This version doesn’t have the Winston Watson vibe, but a distinct J.J. Cale vibe. “Mama Don’t”, “Anywhere The Wind Blows”, “Okie”, that vibe, more or less.
As we hear the first verse of “Dirt Road Blues”, we follow Fate across the carnival. He climbs a scaffold and looks out over the set. Behind him, a blackface artist with a banjo descends the stairs and sits down on the steps. It does seem to be the ghost of Al Jolson, but he introduces himself as “Oscar Vogel” (Ed Harris). On the soundtrack, the music is mixed into the background, instead we now hear, softly and menacingly, the ghostly howl of the wind in the distance. The ghost’s words are given a chilling reverberation, just as ghostly. But behind it still sounds, very vaguely now, a textless version of “Dirt Road Blues”. Oscar tells us he is dead because he dared to criticise Fate’s father, the dictator, from the stage.
Oscar Vogel: They said it was an accident. [strums banjo] Some even said it was a suicide. Some people choose to die in all kinds of ways. Some people jump out of buildings And slit their wrists on the way down. Some fall on their own swords. I opened my mouth. Do you remember? My name is Oscar Vogel. Jack Fate: Oscar Vogel. Well, I got to get back to the stage. Oscar Vogel: The stage – ah, yes – the stage. The whole world’s a stage.
And then, as Jack descends the stairs, “Dirt Road Blues” swells again, still instrumental. Jack looks back one more time, up. The ghost of Oscar Vogel/Al Jolson is gone.
The song’s connection to the film images is puzzling. “Something with Al Jolson” is the only thing that connects the Oscar Vogel scene with the somewhat circumstantial background story of the genesis of “Dirt Road Blues”. Dylan doesn’t seem to have any special feelings about it either; after this one-off reanimation, the dust settles over the song, and now for good.
The one-off resuscitation, this partly dusted off version of “Dirt Road Blues”, was recorded with Dylan’s touring band in July 2002, at the now demolished Ray-Art Studios film studio in Canoga Park, Los Angeles. On Variel Avenue, half an hour’s drive from Dylan’s home in Malibu. Just follow the dirt road and take Highway 101.
https://youtu.be/tVir6zzyD4Q
———-
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with some 14,000 members.
Jochen is a regular reviewer of Dylan’s work on Untold. His books, in English, Dutch and German, are available via Amazon both in paperback and on Kindle:
A sorrowful ballad by an American Romantic “lieder” writer:
Though battered and old
Our hearts are bold
Yet oft do we repine
For the days of old
For the days of gold
For the days of forty-nine
(Joaquin Miller: Forty Nine)
Over time, the lyrics gallop off in different directions – recorded, for example, by a minstrel cowboy below:
You're gazing now on old Tom Moore
A relic of bygone days
'Tis a bummer too they call me now
But what care I for praise
(Jules Allen: The Days Of Forty-Nine ~ traditional)
Rendered in folk rock:
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore
In the good old golden days
They call me a bummer, and a gin sot too
But what cares I for praise
(Bob Dylan: Days Of Forty-Nine ~ traditional)
Take what you gather from coincidence – Thomas Moore (prior to the time of the overseas California gold rush) be an Irish writer, a Robbie Burns-like poet who pens the following ballad:
The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone
In the ranks of death you'll find him
His father's sword he has girded on
And his wild harp slung behind him
(Thomas Moore: Minstrel Boy)
An obverse, a light-hearted, response to the lyrics above, as those beneath can be taken:
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin
Who's gonna let it roll
Who's gonna throw that minstrel boy a coin
Who's gonna let it down easy to save his soul
(Bob Dylan: Minstrel Boy)
An Irish tenor renders Moore’s song in high burlesque style, giving it operatic surgery:
"Land of song", cried the warrior bard
Though all the world betrays thee
One sound, at least, thy rights shall guard
One faithful heart to praise thee
(John McCormack: Ministrel Boy ~ Moore)
The traditional song below is given an obverse treatment in that the traditional lyrics are ~ “to buckle her shoe”:
And what's it to any man, whether or no
Whether I'm easy, or whether I'm true
And I lifted her petticoat, easy and slow
And I rolled up my sleeves to unbuckle her shoe
(Bob Dylan: Slow And Easy ~ traditional)
The minstrel boy forgets nought:
I must admit that I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe
(Bob Dylan: Tangled Up In Blue)
In the originally recorded song lyrics beneath, the narrator thereof can be understood as addressing an idealized gal with whom he’s looks forward to spending the night:
Throw my ticket out the window
Throw my suitcase out there too
Throw my troubles out the door
I don't need them any more
'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you
(Bob Dylan: Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You)
In the revised lyrics below, the softness of the country tune above turns hard with the change of music to the rhythm pattern of rocknroll, and diction composed of consonance ‘rhymes’ ~ “mattress”, “letters”, “little”, “scattered”, “mattered”.
The song’s now from the perspective of a minstrel performer; he addresses a real audience during a one-night stand on stage:
Throw my ticket in the wind
Throw my mattress out there too
Throw my letters in the sand
'Cause you got to understand
That tonight I'll be staying here with you ....
But I'm feeling a little bit scattered
And your love was all that mattered
(Bob Dylan: Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You, no. II)
———-
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with some 14,000 members.
Details of the earlier episodes of the Released/Unreleased series can be found at the end of the article.
As with other pieces presented by the two of us, Aaron (in the US) selects the material and then I (Tony in the UK) writes the commentary as I listen to the music.
Aaron: In April 1976 Bob booked the Belleview Biltmore Hotel to record his first TV special. With Baez and McGuinn in tow, they performed two 3-hour sets in front of around 100 lucky souls.
An hour-long show was edited and prepared for release. Bob even appeared on the cover of TV Guide to promote the special. Then, just like that, he nixed the whole thing, allegedly not happy with his voice. It was replaced in the schedule with the Hard Rain show, recorded about a month after Clearwater.
Luckily for us, the whole show has leaked and you can watch it all on YouTube.
I’ll present my edited highlights for Tony to review and then the whole show at the end.
Mr Tambourine Man
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aBQRaU2pWHg
Tony: My instant reaction is that I like this voice. Yes, it is different from Bob’s normal singing voice of the era, but then why not? After all the music is different as well with two beats added to the end of each line, and four beats added at the end of each verse. Plus other rhythmic oddities too.
And yes I like this throughout. And in terms of the music, interestingly, unlike many musical changes repeated through a piece, these don’t pale into the boredom of repetitiveness but are as central to the performance at the end of the piece as they are at the beginning.
(Incidentally, perhaps I could use that “boredom of repetitiveness” phrase in a song… although I suspect not).
The Times They Are A-Changin’
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=l-bgA4aupD0
Tony: So immediately I am listening out for changes to the way the song is sung, and yes here we have one or two or even more extra beats at the end of each line, as well as the melody going for a meander too. And Bob is doing that raising of the left side of the guitar at the end of each line.
I really like the change to the melody at the opening of the lines – it is repetitive and simple but incredibly effective. Goodness knows why Bob didn’t want this released; musically I think it is superb, and there’s nothing at all wrong with the filming. I’m so glad you’ve presented this Aaron.
I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine (with Joan Baez)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aTJWxjBGaIs
Tony: Oh yes I am enjoying this so much – that little interplay between the two of them, and the face Joan pulls at the end of the first verse as if to say, “well that is not too far away from the way we rehearsed it, I guess.”
And yet again it is a terrific re-working of the song. This really is a remarkable archive.
When I Paint My Masterpiece
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MTzQT69VNDg
Tony: It is so strange that Bob decided to ditch the whole recording when everyone seems to be having such a jolly time. And musically the songs all work beautifully. Which given how well we know them, is quite an achievement. The harmonies both in this piece and the last one are remarkable, and Bob is not known for his vocal harmonics inventiveness. And the mandolin is exquisite too.
Maybe he just didn’t like the fact that everyone was having so much fun.
Lay Lady Lay
Tony: Upon its original release this was not one of my favourite Dylan songs, for reasons I won’t bore you with now, but this is a terrific version, once again drawing so strongly on the harmonies which change the whole aspect of the song.
Indeed the whole production is remarkable. Not for the first time Aaron, I owe you for introducing me to a performance I didn’t know.
Aaron: Now if you have an hour, here is the complete show. Check out Baez solo spot – a sublime Diamonds and Rust – I wonder what Bob thought of that?!
Tony:Diamonds and Rust (in case you just one to pick up that song Aaron highlighted) starts around 16′ 30″. I haven’t played Diamonds and Rust for a while, but I have a feeling this version is taken faster than normal, and it is none the worse for that.
In keeping with the rest of the show it is a sublime performance, but maybe if Bob really did object to that song, that is why he didn’t allow it to be released… I’ve no evidence for that and it would be an incredibly petty thing to do, but these artists you know…
Here’s the full listing of the show.
– Mr Tambourine Man – The Times They Are A-Changin’ – Blowin’ In The Wind – I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine – Diamonds And Rust – When I Paint My Masterpiece – Like A Rolling Stone – Isis – Just Like A Woman – Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door – Lay Lady Lay
At the start of my previous post, I spoke of the special musical alchemy Dylan created in 2003 from the mix of harmonica, piano and voice, music that is exuberant and irrepressible, rollicking and turbulent. These qualities make 2003 a standout year, despite the growly roughness of Dylan’s voice. Even without the wailing harp, those qualities are still evident.
Besides the old favourites, Dylan surprised his audiences with two new songs for the NET. ‘Saving Grace,’ from Saved, 1980, had not been performed since the glory days of 1981. It is a rare song in the Dylan opus in that it is driven by gratitude, gratitude to God and to love’s saving grace. It belongs beside ‘What Can I Do For You?’ also from Saved. In his book on the NET, One More Night, Andrew Muir comments
‘It was asking a lot to expect Dylan to be able to sing this song properly, demanding as it does a sweeping devotional vocal to convincingly convey the depth of feeling and intent behind the simple words. Asking too much, as it transpired. Dylan’s trademark elongated endings sounded strained almost to the point of parody…The rest of the year’s problems were foreshadowed here, not least Dylan’s ever-growing need to repeat words to make lines fit: ‘all, all I’m seeing’ and ‘so many many times.’
Muir is referring to the first concert (6th Feb), and while it may be terribly unfair of me to offer a performance from two months later (30th March) as a way of meeting Muir’s comment, Muir doesn’t say that the performances of the song grew better as the year progressed. Besides, Muir’s comment that Dylan’s voice wasn’t up to the job might apply to many songs and not just from the gospel era. ‘Saving Grace’ is no different from many other songs for which Dylan has to find new forms of vocal expression to accommodate his changing voice. I’ll leave it up to you to decide to what extent Dylan was successful in translating this song for his 2003 voice. For me, these intimations of mortality sound just fine in this cracked and aged voice, sound much closer to ‘sleeping in a pine box for all eternity.’
Saving Grace
Staying with Dylan’s gospel years, let’s look at ‘I Believe in You’ (from Slow Train Coming), not a new song for the NET but, by 2003, pretty much a rarity. If any song requires the full sweep of Dylan’s vocal range it is this one. The famous performances from 1980/81 had Dylan pushing his voice to its very limit in almost hysterical assertions of faith. The older Dylan cannot match these vocal pyrotechnics, but can still deliver the song powerfully and convincingly. It can be heard with a secular ear as a passionate love song; there are some loves we will hold to no matter what people say. (This one’s from 23rd Nov, London).
I Believe in You
You can hear the audience’s surprise when, at Hammersmith, Dylan begins ‘Romance in Durango’ (from Desire), not heard since the heady days of the Rolling Thunder Tour.
Dylan excels in writing dramatic monologues, defined by Google as ‘A poem in which an imagined speaker addresses a silent listener, usually not the reader.’ The narrator ‘reveals their feelings, inner thoughts, or motivations. Unlike a soliloquy, which is a private speech in which a character addresses themselves, a dramatic monologue is addressed to another character or to the audience.’
Some Dylan songs, like ‘North Country Blues,’ ‘Lonesome Hobo,’ ‘My Own Version of You,’ ‘Isis,’ ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ and ‘Romance in Durango’ are clearly and obviously dramatic monologues, but it’s not always so clear. What about the street-wise hipster in ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues,’ or the past-haunted drifter of ‘Tangled Up in Blue’? You could argue that all Dylan songs are dramatic monologues, but this is not the place to do it. Enough for us to note here that ‘Romance in Durango’ is one of the most dramatic of these monologues.
A bandit takes his last ride with his love, Magdalena, dangling before her the prospect of the life they will be living, a life of freedom and gaiety summed up by ‘dancing the fandango.’ The setting is Mexico, and the details are hallucinations of hope with the prospects of marriage:
Then the padre will recite the prayers of old
In the little church this side of town
I will wear new boots and an earring of gold
You'll shine with diamonds in your wedding gown
These hallucinations, however, are not all propitious. There’s a sense of impending threat:
The way is long but the end is near
Already the fiesta has begun
And in the streets the face of God will appear
With His serpent eyes of obsidian
Then, suddenly, he is shot, mortally wounded, but the killing doesn’t end there, at least the prospect of it. The song ends with the continuation of violence.
Quick, Magdalena, take my gun
Look up in the hills, that flash of light
Aim well my little one
We may not make it through the night
Again, this performance, spirited as it is, probably can’t stand against the best of the Rolling Thunder performances, but it is a virtuoso vocal that doesn’t drift too far from the album version.
Romance in Durango
One of the performances that, for me, best encapsulates the spirit of the 2003 NET is this ‘High Water’ from Red Bluff, 7th Oct. It has that open-ended, jazzy feel, with Dylan coming the closest he gets to playing lead piano. His piano playing here foreshadows how he will use the instrument after 2012, with syncopated clusters of notes and a driving beat. Above all, I think, it’s the joyousness of the performance that gets through. We get that exciting sense that anything could happen; anarchy is indeed let loose.
High Water
While the Hammersmith concert is highly regarded, and rightly so, I like the Red Bluff concert, both for the clarity of the recording and Dylan’s piano work. This ‘Bye and Bye,’ also from “Love and Theft”, swings sweetly along, a deceptive sweetness. On the surface we have a happy-go-lucky, relaxed sentiment, as open and bouncy as a summer day.
I’m rollin’ slow—I’m doing all I know
I’m tellin’ myself I found true happiness
That I’ve still got a dream that hasn’t been repossessed
I’m rollin’ slow, goin’ where the wild red roses grow
The mention of repossessed dreams might evoke the era of the great Depression, but the last verse slips in a new level of threat:
Papa gone mad, mama, she’s feeling sad
I’ll establish my rule through civil war
Bring it on up from the ocean’s floor
I’ll take you higher just so you can see the fire.
And that doesn’t sound so nice at all.
Bye and bye
At Red Bluff, we find Dylan giving his energetic ode to indolence, ‘Watching the River Flow,’ a boogie twist. Google defines boogie-woogie as a ‘heavily percussive style of blues piano in which the right hand plays riffs (syncopated, repeating phrases) against a driving pattern of repeating eighth notes (ostinato bass).’ That heavily percussive style is characteristic of all Dylan’s piano playing during this period, but you can hear it most clearly in this performance. Again the band gives him room for a piano solo but Dylan is more interested in playing the rhythm, albeit with some flourishes.
Watching the River Flow
While I find Dylan’s vocal performance in this ‘Visions of Johanna,’ possibly his greatest song, a little rushed and breathless, he finds a nice little piano riff to underpin it. Dylan has experimented with different tempos for the song, but mostly I find his skipping rhythms run counter to the dark, swirling nature of the lyrics. These are lyrics you need to sink into, become immersed. ‘Visions’ is a journey through a perilous shadow world, through hell, an urban, wee-small-hours of the morning kind of hell. Little of that feeling is conveyed by Dylan’s NET performances of the song, but it’s served better here by the piano than by previous upbeat acoustic guitar backings. Another excellent recording from Red Bluff. Pity he misses the lyric at one point.
Visions of Johanna
While on the subject of Dylan’s greatest songs, we also find at Red Bluff a sharply delivered ‘Just Like A Rolling Stone,’ the greatest rock song ever written according to the magazine Rolling Stone. This famous attack on insincerity, snobbery and bad faith has gone down in history, but like ‘Visions,’ has not always fared well during the NET. This performance from Red Bluff is triumphant enough, and sung with gusto. You might be put off by the incessant upsinging, but in this case it seems to hammer home the bitter irony that drives the attack. Fans of Dylan’s guitar will be pleased to hear him back on the job, picking darkly away at the melody.
Like a Rolling Stone
If there is one song more famous than ‘Just like A Rolling Stone,’ it would be ‘Blowing in the Wind,’ a song Dylan apparently wrote in ten minutes back in 1963. The protest here is directed at human indifference to suffering. Dylan again abandons the keyboard for this one, delivering a characteristically oddball acoustic guitar solo, quite minimal, built around a few repeated notes. This is also from Red Bluff.
Blowing in the Wind.
Since we are in the Dylan hall of fame, we can’t let ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ go by. Dylan seldom fails to nail this one, and the Red Bluff performance is no exception. It’s got that sad, elegiac feeling, beautifully introduced by the keening voices of the band, suitably spooky and unearthly. We are so familiar with the song, it may be too easy to forget the dramatic context. A man, a lawman, is dying, bleeding out from a stomach wound – the song plays behind the death scene in Sam Peckinpah’s movie, Pat Garret and Billy the Kid. Dylan stays on the guitar, and delivers an impassioned vocal.
Knocking on Heaven’s door
We return to Dylan on the keyboard to finish this post with the wistful ‘Born in Time.’ From Under the Red Sky (1991), not one of Dylan’s most famous songs, but, to my mind, one of his most underestimated. All great Dylan songs are mood pieces, often, like ‘Visions’ after midnight moods, and this is one of those. We are but playthings of the gods, struggling in ‘the foggy web of destiny.’ Despite its sadness, it remains a love song, shot through with tenderness. But love, while it may be inevitable, is not easy, makes us too vulnerable, too exposed to the world.
Not one more night
not one more kiss
Not this time baby
no more of this
Takes too much skill
takes too much will
It's revealing
Another fine Red Bluff performance, Dylan in strong voice with that gentle piano quietly backing up the mood and pushing it all along. My favourite performance of the song.
Born in Time
That’s it for now, see you soon with more sounds from 2003
Kia Ora
We find that same joyousness in ‘Summer Days’ another song from ‘Love and Theft.’
We all want to be the one to crack the code and find the absolute meaning in the song intended by Dylan, even when he scoffs at our attempts. We may be very smart or very stupid in our attempts to decipher meaning as intended by Dylan, but truth be told, we cannot, at least not on a regular basis, do so.
For one thing, we each have our own unique biases and optical prisms we view life from. If we have a Christian bent, we find Christian meanings in Dylan songs that are not realistically there. If we are Jewish, we find Jewish meanings in Dylan songs where perhaps none existed. If we are secular and anti-religion, we insert our own religion protestations in Dylan songs. In other words, we interpolate our own values and beliefs in Dylan songs, to satisfy our own needs.
The other reason we will not crack the code in each Dylan song is because Dylan, in creating his song, uses his own unique and deep set of life experiences and everchanging moods. There are so many personal and public inputs that go into every Dylan song, that it would not be reasonable or even possible for him to relate each song’s intended meaning to us, if indeed there is an intended meaning.
This doesn’t mean we should stop trying to interpret his songs. Our evolving interpretations is what gives each song, extended life.
Dylan, in creating his song, is like Dr. Frankenstein. His songs become living monsters. Each song has a life of their own. Our interpretations of Dylan songs help give each respective song, life. (Other artists covering and interpreting, musically, Dylan songs, sometimes in different genres, also give Dylan songs, extra-life). Through space or place and time, we give our interpretations and found meanings relevant to us, and which may resonate with other people.
Dylan songs are timeless because they are biblical in proportion. Dylan songs, which often borrow content and imagery from Bible sources, is very much like the Bible. They are both timeless.
Like Dylan songs, the Bible uses metaphors and colourful imagery. Critics of religion and the Bible tend to throw out the baby with the bath water when they fail to recognize the inherent wisdom collected over thousands of years of human civilization in the Bible. Ironically, critics of religion often read and interpret the Bible, the same way that religious fundamentalists interpret it. They both read and interpret the Bible literally, as if it were primarily a history book written directly by G-d.
Mainstream and religious followers have for centuries got past this literal reading and interpretation of the Bible. We recognize the allegories and imagery in the Bible (and in Dylan songs), and study it not so much as a history book but as a record or narrative of the human condition and lesson on human behaviours. For example, in the opening editorial analysis of the English translated Stone Edition of The Torah and Genesis, it states, “We begin the study of the Torah with the realization that the Torah is not a history book, but the charter of Man’s mission in the universe”. The figures in the Bible, while not necessarily real either, represent humans with all their decencies and all their flaws. By way of example, we can relate to King David who exhibited both exceptional and questionable human behaviour. We don’t necessarily believe that G-d directly wrote the Bible, but we allow for the possibility that G-d inspired some or all its writings.
The Bible, like Dylan, uses concise language to narrate a story. The stories are sparse with puzzling gaps in information. We, the reader, must fill in those gaps. We fill in those gaps, in different times and places, to attach our own meaning and relevance in what we read.
Reading an article, Theater of the Mind in the February 2021 edition of Psychology Today, by Antonio Zadr (PH.D.) and Robert Stickgold (PH.D.), also helped me to surmise that Dylan songs are often like dreams. Dreams, like many Dylan songs, have a narrative structure with lots of images and allusions, not entirely random, partially related, and partially coherent. The dream, according to Allan Hobson of Harvard Medical School, “(is the result of the forebrain) making the best of a bad job in producing even partially coherent dream imagery from the relative noisy signals sent up to it from the brainstem.” With Dylan songs, Dylan is the “brainstem” sending us imagery and we are the forebrain trying to make sense of it.
The fact that we continue to attach meaning and relevance in Dylan songs, through space and time, demonstrates that his songs will stand the test of time and always be recognized as great works of art.
Let’s come back to my interpretation, improbable as it may be, that the lost love references in Time Out of Mind songs could be a reference to G-d as opposed to or in addition to a woman.
In Dirt Road Blues, DYLAN cannot seem to find peace of mind or salvation until he regains his lost love. DYLAN’s desperation and search for his lost love, in this song, can just as easily be G-d as it is a woman.
In Standing in the Doorway, we hear the following verse:
“Don’t know if I saw you, if I would kiss you or kill you
It probably wouldn’t matter to you anyhow
You left me standing in the doorway crying
I got nothing to go back to now”
DYLAN is frustrated that a woman or G-d is not returning his love for her/Him.
“Standing in the doorway, crying” may be an allegory and image that Dylan uses several times in the album.
Seth Rogovoy believes, “You left me standing in the doorway crying” could also be an allusion to the Yom Kippur Neilah service when Jews, are tearfully pleading with G-d to be inscribed for another year in the Book of Life, just before the closing of the gates”. In ’Dylan’s’ case, he is still crying after the door is closed which is very ominous. ‘Dylan’, by still crying after the gates of heaven closes, may not be too confident about G-d’s judgment for him.
In Million Miles, DYLAN might as well be a million miles from his lost lover, which could easily, physically, and figuratively, be G-d.
In Cold Irons Bound, DYLAN says, “It’s such a sad thing to see beauty decay.” All physical beauty decays, including the beauty of a woman whose love he presumably lost. It is an odd thing to say about a lost love that one can’t shake. Perhaps then, ‘Dylan’ is not referring specifically to a former loving woman with this reference.
G’d’s “beauty”, which is spiritual, never decays. Perhaps DYLAN is intentionally making this statement to signal to us that his lost love cannot be that of a woman, whose beauty erodes over time. It must be G-d.
In Can’t Wait, DYLAN is once again standing, praying, in front of the gate:
“I’m breathing hard, standing at the gate”.
Also, in Can’t Wait, DYLAN sings, “It’s late, I’m trying to walk the line”
“Walk the line” means “to behave in an authorized or socially accepted manner. “
We would have presumed Dylan was to behave in a socially acceptable manner to regain his lost love but if his lost love is G-d, he may have to toe the line, ritually speaking, to recover G-d’s love.
If Dylan or DYLAN is struggling with his relationship to G-d, he is following in the tradition of most, if not all religions and certainly Judaism.
Abraham challenges G-d when He announces he will destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, killing all its inhabitants.
Jacob wrestled with an Angel of G-d, which could also be an allegory for the struggle in his own mind for his faith in G-d.
The Prophets, beginning with Moses, desperately wanted to reject their callings or missions directed by G-d.
DYLAN has decided at the end of the song, Highland, that he will not follow the conventional path that he took during his Christian phase, or even the ways of the orthodox Jewish order or the disciplines from any religion.
“There’s a way to get there and I’ll figure it out somehow”
DYLAN is going to find his own way, not some religious institutional prescribed ritual way, to unite with G-d.
Maybe the Highlands is that figurative place where he finds communion with G-d in his mind’s eye. (Or perhaps he unites with G-d with the creation and performance of his songs).
That is why the last line of the song and album is such a powerful album ending statement:
“Well I’m already there in my mind and that’s good enough for now.” (In other words, DYLAN will find communion with G-d, not through institutional religion, but by his own way and G-d’s calling, through mind and song).
Or as Paul Anka or Frank Sinatra would sing, “I’ll do it my way.”
Getting back specifically to the song, Richard F. Thomas remarks about the studio recording, Love Sick, in his book, Why Bob Dylan Matters, “The melancholy (of the song) is only made more stunningly poignant and beautiful by the bluesy voice of the singer and the music of it all.”
While the sorrow and pain are evident in Dylan’s vocals, the song structure also contributes to the underlying sadness with its use of minor to major to minor chords.
“Trying thinking of that pulsating beat and the reverberating guitar gives us the plod of the lyrics walking, but the sudden quick guitar change at the end of each verse jerks us out of the descent.”
Margotin and Guesdon in their book, Bob Dylan, All The Songs, describes the production perfecting this song:
“The gloomy atmosphere of the production is in perfect harmony with the lyrics. According to Daniel Lanois, ‘We treated the voice almost like a harmonica when you overdrive it through a small guitar amplifier.’ The vocals are actually very dark, sepulchral, almost evoking the classic horror films. This ‘spinning’ effect is produced by an Eventide He500 stereo flanger. It is also one of the first times Dylan permitted the distortion of his voice by studio effects.
“Since the 1960’s, (Dylan) had refused to follow the sonic experiments of many artists of the time. The result is mesmerizing. The orchestration releases a dark feeling, in particular Augie Meyers on organ and Jim Dickinson on the Wurlitzer.
“In the introduction, a rhythmic loop is buried in the sound mass. The presence of two drummers does not affect the clarity of the mix. Neither of them takes over the song. On the contrary, their parts remain airy. The production is again remarkable: Daniel Lanois created an absolute unique world.”
Evidently, Love Sick is a favourite of Dylan. As of 2018, he has performed it 835 times.
Although sonically speaking, I like the audio album version of Love Sick best, there is an interesting performance I would like to share with you.
Look for the “Soy Bomb” incident during the Grammy Awards Dylan and band performance:
Dylan hardly bats an eye when the “Soy Bomb” guy comes on stage!
Michael Portnoy, the “Soy Bomb” guy, was hired by Dylan’s production company to stand in the background with the other dancers and groove to the music.
Unexpectedly, Portnoy ripped off his shirt, displaying “Soy Bomb” written across his chest, stepped on stage, and started dancing and contorting spastically.
Portnoy explained his found meaning and relevance in the song:
“Soy”… represents dense nutritional life. “Bomb” is, obviously, an explosive destructive force. So, “soy bomb” is what I think art should be: dense, transformational, explosive life.”
According to Entertainment Weekly, “he meant Soy Bomb as a ‘spontaneous explosion of the self’ to re-invigorate the current music scene.”
Both Saturday Night Live and The Tonight Show, parodied the event with Will Ferrell and Jay Leno, respectively, portraying Portnoy.
And the song continues to breathe and find new life.
When asked by a reporter in 1965, what, if anything, would he sell out to…
Dylan wittingly replied, “Ladies undergarments.”
In 2004, Dylan actually consented Victoria’s Secret Line of Lingerie to appear and use his song, Love Sick, commercially, in one of their ads.
A sexy, scantily clad model appears in the ad with Dylan looking on:
Here is a toast to Bob Dylan. “To his songs and their everlasting life!”
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Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with some 14,000 members.
What songs that get included in a Dylan studio recorded album, are a mystery to us, especially when many “masterpieces” like Blind Willie McTell, become outtakes. Perhaps, for Dylan, it is not important how “good” the song is but whether it fits in atmosphere or tone with the rest of the album. Likewise, the sequencing of songs on an album are important to Dylan, and the first and the last song bear special significance.
Love Sick is not only the first song on Time Out of Mind but it is also the first released composition in about five years. Love Sick sets the theme and atmosphere for the whole album. On a broader note, we shall also examine our role as interpreters of Dylan’s music. Our song interpretations, however unlikely they are in matching the intended meanings given by Dylan, nevertheless, add life and timelessness to each song.
We know from the first verse and even the first line, that this song and album are going to be melancholic:
I’m walking through streets that are dead
Walking, walking with you in my head
My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired
And the clouds are weeping
Compare the opening line in Love Sick:
“My weariness amazes me, I’m branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street’s too dead for dreaming”
The two songs were written about thirty-two years apart represent different journeys, for the narrator of the songs, at different times in his life and at different places, if indeed the narrator for each song is the same person.
Dylan wrote Mr. Tambourine Man in his mid-twenties in or before 1965. The narrator of this song is likely a young man with a long journey ahead.
In Love Sick, Dylan, or the narrator, is more like an elder statesman, and his walking is more like a slow even pace, close to the end of his journey or death, not gazing at the future, because there isn’t much of one, but looking over his shoulder at his past.
The elder statesman is struggling over a past relationship as he is “walking with you in my head”. The lost love theme is introduced here and becomes a recurring theme in the album.
The narrator in Love Sick is love-sick, walking through the streets, as if he was a walking dead person, his senses numb, a zombie, or an invisible man. He is not part of and/or is unmoved by the whole world around him.
Who is the narrator of this and other Dylan songs?
In Love Sick, he sees everyone around him, happy and in love, accentuating his own loneliness and hopelessness. He walks in a “shadow”, unseen by others:
I see lovers in the meadow
I see silhouettes in the window
I watch them ’til they’re gone and they leave me hanging on
To a shadow
We have become so “intimate” with Dylan over the years because he has been quite a force in our lives. We form strong associations with his lifetime of songs, as they connect us to personal and global events in places and times in our lives.
As such, we want to believe the narrator is Dylan himself.
However, Dylan denies that his songs are personal, about him or people he knows.
Afterall, when he writes about mortality, world dysfunction, love relationships and spirituality, he is writing about the whole human condition and not just himself.
When Dylan is in concert these days, he is on stage, never talking directly to the audience, because like the other “stage actors” or band members, he is playing a role. He carefully selects the songs and their sequence, which together make up a “stage play” he and his band members are performing. Dylan is in costume. It is not surprising that Dylan had a white painted face, like a mask, and wore a cream-coloured fedora adorned with a bouquet of flowers during his Rolling Thunder Review concerts. As Dylan ages, he changes and his “acting roles” suitable for stage, also changes.
Likewise, his songs are often constructed like plays or stories. As Dylan, the songwriter changes with age, so to do his songs with his evolving emotional sensibilities, along with his vocal and physical abilities to perform them.
So, one more time, who is the narrator in Dylan songs? While many of us would like to think it is Dylan himself, who is Dylan? Dylan, clearly, is everchanging. The Dylan who first sang Mr Tambourine Man in 1965, is not the same Dylan who sings it today. Dylan, I believe, consciously recognizes that. While using his growing lifetime experiences and changing moods to inform him in his songwriting, he is writing about the broader human condition.
Dylan inserts a character or “actor” to play the part of the narrator in each song. The narrator may possess physical and emotional qualities which are like his own, but the character in each song is fluid.
As such, going forward, I will use DYLAN and the ‘narrator of the song’ interchangeably.
The all- important refrain in the first song of the album, sets the atmosphere for the song and album. The theme it expresses, lovesickness, which he cannot shake off, is an important and recurring theme in the album:
“I’m sick of love…but I’m in the thick of it
This kind of love…I’m so sick of it”
DYLAN is experiencing an internal struggle, and is torn between the desire he still has for his former lover and his need to erase her from his memory.
The last song refrain, DYLAN in anguish sings:
“I’m sick of love…I wish I’d never met you
I’m sick of love…I’m trying to forget you”
The last refrain is followed by the last lines in the song which are:
“Just don’t know what to do
I’d give anything to be with you”
Compare the refrain with King Solomon’s lament in the Song of Songs, 2:7:
“(Bereft of your presence)/ I am sick with love.”
Dylan has alluded to the Song of Songs in other compositions. Could this be another allusion to the Song of Songs? If so, it is a very important one.
The Song of Songs is a love poem written by King Solomon. On the surface it appears that King Solomon is grieving about his love for a woman.
However, Song of Songs as explained by Seth Rogovoy, author of Bob Dylan, Prophet, Mystic, Poet, “is commonly understood to be an allegory for the love that exists between G-d and the exiled people of Israel. Early in the poem, Israel speaks to G-d, seeking His comfort from afar, from exile…In other words, Israel is “lovesick” for G-d.”
If Dylan is deliberately making an allusion to the Song of Songs in Love Sick, it is not much of a leap to believe that Dylan too is using an allegory in his song and album for the narrator’s love for G-d. DYLAN too, like the exiled people of Israel, is living “afar” and in “exile”, removed from G-d.
Dylan or DYLAN is perhaps still struggling in finding communion or even a relationship with G-d after unsatisfactory life experiences with Institutional Religion. Is Dylan or DYLAN searching for a more unconventional method to connect with G-d?
Substituting G-d for woman whenever the lovesickness theme appears in the album songs, seems to fit well, as we shall see below.
However, before digging deeper into this interpretation, let me raise the question, ‘is this interpretation a stretch?’
The article continues….
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Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with some 14,000 members.
“But, on the other hand, with Dirt Road Blues he made me pull out the original cassette, sample 16 bars and we all played over that.” (Daniel Lanois, Irish Times, Oct. 24, 1997)
The hun t for the right sound seems to be one of Dylan’s greater concerns in all the decades of his career, and especially in his late work. More important than a chord sequence, more important than semantics, more important than the arrangement and the key and the melody. Its importance to Dylan is a refrain in the interviews, speeches and self-analyses, and close associates like studio staff, producers and session musicians emphasise it again and again. Roughly from Time Out Of Mind onwards, it even seems to become something of an obsession.
In the wonderful interview series published by Uncut in the run-up to The Bootleg Series Vol. 8 – Tell Tale Signs (2008), this fascination with sound is a theme with each of the interviewees. Technician Mark Howard, for example, tells:
“He’d tune into this radio station that he could only get between Point Dune and Oxnard. It would just pop up at one point, and it was all these old blues recordings, Little Walter, guys like that. And he’d ask us, “Why do those records sound so great? Why can’t anybody have a record sound like that anymore? Can I have that?” And so, I say, “Yeah, you can get those sounds still.” “Well,” he says, “ that’s the sound I’m thinking of for this record.”
… and he does find it eventually, that sound, with a slight detour. Mark Howard explains it admirably. A few months before the studio sessions, Dylan asks the technical guys whether they could record and mix a live show (House Of Blues, Atlanta, August 3 and 4, 1996). Dylan is peeping over Howard’s shoulder as he mixes the recordings:
“He says, “Hey, Mark, d’ya think you can make my harmonica sound electric on this one?” So I said, yeah, sure, and I took the harmonica off the tape and ran it through this little distortion box, and I played it, and he said, “Wow, that’s great.” So we’re mixing away, and, after he stops playing harmonica, he starts singing into the same mic, and Dylan hears his voice going through this little vocal amp, and he gets really excited about it. “Wow! This is great!” And so I had to remix the whole record, putting this little vocal amp on all of his vocals for the whole show. And that sound became the sound of Time Out Of Mind.”
As producer Daniel Lanois, not only in his interview with the Irish Times, but in Uncut as well, talks again about those “reference records”:
“Bob has a fascination with records from the Forties, Fifities and even further back. We listened to some of these old recordings to see what it was about them that made them compelling.”
Lanois himself recalls old Al Johnson recordings, and in the 2001 interview with Mikal Gilmore for Rolling Stone, Dylan remembers yet another name:
“I familiarized [Lanois] with the way I wanted the songs to sound. I think I played him some Slim Harpo recordings—early stuff like that. He seemed pretty agreeable to it”
Dylan’s memory could be right. Slim Harpo has been a constant over the past half century. In interviews, he regularly cites him as an example of artists who fascinated the adolescent Bobby Zimmerman back in Duluth;
“Up north, at night, you could find these radio stations with no name on the dials, you know, that played pre-rock ’n’ roll things — country blues. We would hear Slim Harpo or Lightnin’ Slim and gospel groups, the Dixie Hummingbirds, the Five Blind Boys of Alabama. I was so far north, I didn’t even know where Alabama was.”
And Dylan remains faithful to Harpo. The throwaway “Seven Days” (1976) already seems to be a rip-off of Slim’s “Mailbox Blues”; for Down In The Groove (1988) Dylan records an unreleased version of “Got Love If You Want It”; on this album Time Out Of Mind, the melody of “’Til I Fell In Love With You” is very similar to “Strange Love”; as DJ of Theme Time Radio Hour Dylan plays “Raining In My Heart” and “I Need Money (Keep Your Alibis)” in the twenty-first century; and in “Murder Most Foul” (2020) Slim drops by again: play “Scratch My Back”, the narrator asks Wolfman Jack.
Enough Slim Harpo traces, in any case, to go along with Dylan’s claim that he is moved by this sound to such an extent that he wants to copy it for Time Out Of Mind. And indeed, the warm underwater sound of the bass, the tinny guitar sound and the metallic vocals with chilly reverb of, for example, “Strange Love” are quite similar to the sound of “Dirt Road Blues”:
… but still a bit warmer than the rest of Time Out Of Mind. Which can be traced back to that technical fact revealed by Lanois, that only this song used the basic tracks from that mythical demo session, presumably somewhere around that August 1996 live recording in Atlanta. Hence, this is the only song on which Winston Watson’s drums can be heard; unusually, months before the actual studio recordings, Dylan had already been demo-ing new songs, searching for the sound, with members of his touring band. Of which Winston Watson, in Joel Gilbert’s wonderful rockumentary Bob Dylan Never Ending Tour Diaries: Drummer Winston Watson’s Incredible Journey (2009), has a vague recollection:
“So, at one point, he said actually something like to de facto: there’s a sound I’m looking for and we’re not getting it.”
Winston remembers, with a pained face, how desperate he became when Dylan again and again stops rehearsals, unsatisfied, and how he sought to blame himself. When Dylan for the umpteenth time stops a song halfway through, Winston stands up and says (“I with my big mouth”) that he can’t take it anymore.
“This is nerve-wracking. Obviously, there’s something you wanna hear from me that I’m not giving you. I wanna go home. I can’t do this. This is… this is… I can’t.” So Dylan turns around to me, and he says: “Sit down, Winnie.” I thought, oh my God, now I’ve done it, I’ve made Bob Dylan mad. And he puts his cigarette out and he stands up and he says: “Winston is here because he has a certain vibe. I want that vibe. I’m not getting that vibe. This whole room is full of complacency. So if you don’t all wanna go home now, we’re gonna start playing some music in here. Or everybody goes home.”
The harsh pep talk seems to do the job. “Dirt Road Blues” most certainly has a certain vibe, in any case.
To be continued. Next up: Dirt Road Blues part 11 postscript
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Jochen is a regular reviewer of Dylan’s work on Untold. His books, in English, Dutch and German, are available via Amazon both in paperback and on Kindle:
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with some 14,000 members.
I’ve had a little pause in the Dylan cover a day series (there’s a full list of the 47 songs covered below) but have now gathered enough strength to carry on… and what better cover song to offer than “I contain multitudes by Emma Swift
Quite why so much of the double album has been ignored by cover artists I am not sure – but thankfully we have this most beautiful rendition.
What can one say about this? The accompaniment is perfection, the voice is utterly beautiful, and for me (even if no one else) the lyrics take on a new and higher meaning than they achieve in Bob’s own version. If I gave out awards this track would get multiples of the things.
On the Cover me songs site Emma is quoted as saying, “Like many of the great Bob Dylan songs, ‘I Contain Multitudes’ is a magnet, a fly’s eye view of the cultural wilderness in which we wander. It’s magnificent and heartbreaking, a love letter to words and art and music, to all that has been lost and all that might be redeemed. To me this song has become an obsession, a mantra, a prayer. I can’t hope to eclipse it, all I hope to do is allow more people to hear it, to feel comforted by it, and to love it the way I do.”
Just listen. It is beautiful.
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A list of previous songs reviewed is given below.
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with over 14,000 members.
The city-dwelling Romantic Transcendentalist poet in the lines below finds comfort from the memory of a sunlit breeze in the countryside:
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden daffodils
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze
(William Wordsworth: I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud)
Not so the Modernist poet quoted beneath; the hustle and bustle of modern city life darkens his vision of the natural world:
The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth and polished
(TS Eliot: Rhapsody On A Windy Night)
There’s a yearning hope for some “gentle” healing power from outside the self, expressed in the following song lyrics:
Treat me kindly dear blue angel
Deepest colour of the night
Be merciful, be gentle
For I have no strength to fight
(Dave Cousins: Blue Angel)
Somewhat like the sentiment expressed in the “response” lyrics below, but the strength to fight the “chilly breeze” is to come from within oneself:
I felt the emptiness so wide
I don't know what's wrong from right
I just know I need the strength to fight
Strength to fight the world outside
(Bob Dylan: Life Is Hard ~ Dylan/Hunter)
TS Eliot questions the motif of strength coming from within the individual:
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
(TS Eliot: The Hollow Men)
TS Eliot admires the prose of Henry James, an American who became a British citizen; James is a writer caught on the borderline between the older Hegel-influenced Romantic Transcendentalists and the new Realists.
In the novel ‘Daisy Miller’ by Henry James, the Calvinistic-bent American Mr. Winterbourne, now a class-oriented Victorian moralist living in Switzerland, is confused by the flirty behaviour of newly-arrived younger ‘Daisy’ Miller from America.
The use of correlative symbolism in regards to a person’s name casually picked up in the Robert Frost-influenced song lyrics beneath:
Winterlude, Winterlude, my little daisy
Winterlude, by the telephone wire
Winterlude, it's making me lazy
Come on, sit by the logs in the fire
(Bob Dylan: Winterlude)
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Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with around 14,000 members.
Aaron: Bob appeared on Letterman in 1992 and performed Like A Rolling Stone. Just check out some of the musicians on stage with him here!
Chrissie Hynde (guitar) Steve Vai (guitar) Carole King (piano) Jim Keltner (drums) Roseanne Cash, Nancy Griffith, Emmylou Harris, Michelle Shocked, Mavis Staples (backup vocals)
Tony: Another set of subtle changes to the melody – and everyone looks happy except Bob.
This is a remarkable performance; I could do with a little more volume on the voice, but then you can’t have everything. Carole King looks like she’s really enjoying every second of it, and as time goes by even Bob gets a slight smile. If I find anything less than perfection it is the backing female voice after about five minutes – it is almost too much with the complete a brass section doing their thing by then. But why not?
Aaron: Unfortunately Bob’s 1979 appearance on Saturday Night Live is not on YouTube but it is on Facebook. Hopefully if you click on the link below it should take you there. The video is presented slightly out of order. The order of the songs performed was:
Tony: Don’t forget that because this is Facebook you might have to turn up the Facebook volume on the page, as well as the volume on your computer; but then again I’m probably the only person who regularly forgets.
If you are very kindly a regular reader of my ramblings you will know that this is one of my favourite Dylan compositions, not just because of the music itself but because of Sinead O’Connor’s version which was most recently mentioned in the Dylan Cover a Day series.
This is a gorgeous version by Bob, and I am endlessly intrigued by the way this song can have two utterly different meanings depending on where you start. Interesting to see how Bob looks during this performance.
And it is a beautiful rendition of this extraordinary song. There’s no special reason why you should want to follow the background on this song, but in case you do, my commentary is here,
But I’m not trying to divert you from this version, which I do love. It is just that for me the background to the song is now a core part of what it is.
“Serve Somebody” continues with the same sound and relaxed version. I do love the way Bob also gives us some blanks within the piece – moments when there is just the backing music without any feeling that there always has to be fill-ins.
“When you gonna wake up” carries on the same theme and musical style. It’s just nice and relaxed musically, which is in complete contrast to the message within the lyrics. But Bob can do that. Not always, but he can.
Aaron:Bob’s most recent appearance on Letterman was 2015 and he played The Night We Called It A Day.
Tony: Well, yes of course the greatest songwriter of modern times is Bob Dylan. There has only been one other songwriter of such stature and that was Irving Berlin. But then, after that intro, Bob sings a song that is not one his own. It was written in 1941 by Matt Dennis, the lyrics by Tom Adair. I like the way Bob goes for a little wander during the instrumental break.
And to add something of my own here, just in case you are interested, here is what the original sounded like…
Untold Dylan was created in 2008 and is currently published twice a day – sometimes more, sometimes less. Details of some of our series are given at the top of the page and in the Recent Posts list, which appears both on the right side of the page and at the very foot of the page (helpful if you are reading on a phone). Some of our past articles which form part of a series are also included on the home page.
Articles are written by a variety of volunteers and you can read more about them here If you would like to write for Untold Dylan, do email with your idea or article to Tony@schools.co.uk. Our readership is rather large (many thanks to Rolling Stone for help in that regard). Details of some of our past articles are also included on the home page.
We also have a Facebook site with around 14,000 members.
Gonna walk down that dirt road ’til everything becomes the same
Gonna walk down that dirt road ’til everything becomes the same
I keep on walking ’til I hear her holler out my name
The sung version, remarkably, offers a kind of opposite form of oblivion compared to the published final couplet. “Til everything becomes the same” is a terrifying prospect for the future, although it seems as if a sardonic David Byrne is trying to sell it as Paradise: “Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens,” says the refrain of one of his most beautiful songs, “Heaven” from one of Talking Heads’ most perfect albums, Fear Of Music (1979). However, it turns out to be a multi-layered wordplay in the category of “My name is Nobody” and “Who’s on first”;
Everyone is trying to get to the bar
The name of the bar, the bar is called Heaven
The band in Heaven, they play my favorite song
They play it once again, they play it all night long
No, the place where everything becomes the same is in all cultures and story variants a poetic representation of Hell or else a diabolical punishment. The 49 daughters of Danaos are forever filling the bottomless barrel of the Danaids, Sisyphos has to push a boulder up a mountain in the Tartaros until the end of time, and a bit down the road Tantalos suffers perpetually from hunger and thirst while standing in a pond of crystal-clear water up to his chin. And that is just Greek mythology.
In Dante’s Inferno it is not much different; most of the punished are in a loop of everything is the same, have to undergo an eternal repetition. The greedy and profligate constantly and aimlessly move the heavy stones that symbolise their former earthly possessions, the jealous helplessly suffer in an everlasting cold rain and hail, in the Fifth Circle the aggressive ones fight each other ceaselessly until the End of Time, and so on.
It all inspires Friedrich Nietzsche in August 1881 to write his famous Aphorism 341, “The Greatest Weight”, which he publishes in The Gay Science in 1882:
What if some day or night a demon were to steal into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: “This life as you now live it and have lived it you will have to live once again and innumerable times again; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unspeakably small or great in your life must return to you, all in the same succession and sequence – even this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and even this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence is turned over again and again, and you with it, speck of dust!” Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus?
… and which eventually inspires Harold Ramis to film the classic Groundhog Day (1993). Although, strictly speaking, not everything becomes the same there; the cynical weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray) does relive the same February 2 in a seemingly endless time loop, but he himself fills each day differently – he learns to play the piano, picks up foreign languages, commits thefts and has one-night stands, learns from his mistakes and becomes a different person. The denouement, however, does have a similarity to Dylan’s plot. It will finally be February 3, Phil is finally redeemed: by the love of a woman.
Apparently, the narrator from “Dirt Road Blues” hopes for a similar redemption. He will keep walking until everything has become the same, and then keep walking ’til I hear her holler out my name. Already quite classic; identical, for instance, to adaptations of The Flying Dutchman, such as Heine’s fictional report in Memoirs of the Herr von Schnabelowopski (1833) and especially Wagner’s opera (1843), in which the Dutchman is indeed cursed to try to round the Cape of Good Hope until the End of Time, but in which he can be redeemed: by a woman’s love to the death. Which Wagner, of course, handles quite dramatically and literally; Senta tears herself loose from the arms of the men who try to stop her and throws herself off the cliff, hollering out:
Preis' deinen Engel und sein Gebot!
Hier steh' ich, treu dir bis zum Tod!
(Praise your angel and his words!
Here I am, true to you till death!)
Or the queen who can save her son if she says the name of Rumpelstiltskin, or all those other stories from different cultures that attribute magical powers to the mere knowing or mentioning of a name. Jehovah with the Jews, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with Harry Potter, the many pseudonyms we invent to avoid having to pronounce the name of the Devil.
The Dark Romantic, Gothic version then suggests that Dylan’s narrator is pursuing a slightly macabre afterlife experience, much like the aggressive climax on The Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat (1968), in the trashy garage sale “I Heard Her Call My Name” (produced by Dylan producer Tom Wilson, by the way);
And I know that she's long, dead and gone,
Still it ain't the same.
When I wake up in the morning, mama,
I heard her call my name.
… in other words, the murder-ballad variant, the scenario in which the narrator has murdered his beloved in that one-room country shack, and is now doomed to be on the run forever ’til everything becomes the same.
All in all, then, this final couplet of “Dirt Road Blues” offers an opposite plot to the published version; in Lyrics, the narrator opts for total isolation and oblivion, for a hideaway right beside the sun, a life behind a barrier to keep myself away from everyone. In this sung version, however, he can be rescued from the eternal sameness by communication, by interaction: when the woman he loves also loves him and calls his name.
Richard Wagner would undoubtedly have chosen this variant.
To be continued. Next up: Dirt Road Blues part 10
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Jochen is a regular reviewer of Dylan’s work on Untold. His books, in English, Dutch and German, are available via Amazon both in paperback and on Kindle:
