Master Blueprints # 29: “If You Can’t Do the Time Don’t Do the Crime, Heart of Mine”

(Personal reflections inspired by Bob Dylan songs)

Song: “Heart of Mine”
Album: Shot of Love
Release Date: August 1981

In the months leading up to this year’s Master Blueprint series, I scrambled to tie up a handful of loose ends so I could have at least some affinity with every one of Bob Dylan’s 38 studio albums.  Of the roughly 8 discs whereby I was pretty much starting from scratch, the one that was the most pleasantly surprising was Shot of Love; the 3^rd in the trilogy of Dylan’s Christian albums which were released from 1979 to 1981 (each one by the way consisting of entirely self-penned, faith-centric songs).  The album rocks.  And, of the tunes on that album that I had never heard before (ruling out “Every Grain of Sand”, a glorious number which I will be tackling at a later date) it was “Heart of Mine” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5konBDe0CU ) that hit me hardest.

“Heart of Mine” is a hidden-gem-of-a-song that has a jaunty feel to it, which, despite the profound seriousness of the lyrics (which I will get to) makes sense from my point of view, because several of the musicians who perform on the studio version, Ronnie Wood and Ringo Starr, have reputations as two of the most upbeat, fun-loving guys in Rock & Roll history.  The song also includes Booker T and the MG’s Donald “Duck” Dunn on bass, who clearly propels “Heart of Mine” forward with a clever, funky beat. We also hear two drummers, Jim Keltner and Chuck Plotkin (Ringo plays tom toms), along with William “Smitty” Smith on organ.  And of course, there’s Bob Dylan himself on the jaunty piano and lead vocals, along with Clydie King on backing vocals.  I’ve seen most of these musicians perform one or more times over the years (at the very least that list includes Dylan, Starr, Wood, Dunn, and Keltner).  This is likely a key reason why I groove to the beat so readily. 

Before I get into the meaning to “Heart of Mine”, I must explain that both the song and the album reminded me all week of what I was getting myself into with this Bob Dylan-centric series.  Dylan confronts the listener with harsh realities, more often and better than any other musician I know of.  Friends and family who read these blogs might be saying on occasion “what’s up with Pete?”, and perhaps to some degree they are on to something.  But not really.  As Dylan himself at my age once told a reporter who was questioning him about his songs and how personally heavy and confessional they sounded… aren’t we all there?  Aren’t you there?  The fact is Bob Dylan is an artist, and to tap into the artistic side of yourself, you need to confront the truth.  In many other professions, you can find ways to skirt it.  Not so in the art realm: You must reveal the truth in your work to be truly relevant.

I knew from day one that I had to build on that core truth with this Master Blueprint blog series, and that at times this process was going to be brutal. It was one thing with the Rolling Stones Stepping Stones series, another with the Neil Young Forever Young series and yet another with The Who Under the Big Top series.  Each had its own gravitational pull in terms of the revelatory effect the music had on me prior to and while I was writing (and I am in no way shape or form prepared to compare/contrast the reasons right now…. although it’s an intriguing thought which I will consider fleshing out when all is said and done).  But here is the key relative point: Bob Dylan appeals to my basic music-loving senses, in very similar fashion to the Stones, Neil Young, and The Who (and next up, the Beatles).  He’s the Real Deal.  As with those other artists, there is depth and there is breadth, allowing me to write about him for an entire year. With this said, I must address what comes to mind when I tackle inspired talking points on a week to week basis.  It’s that artist thing, ya know.

Ok, are we ready to move on?  I think I am, and to be more precise, I’m ready to get into the meaning of this under-the-radar song, “Heart of Mine”.  First off, I want to discuss further that prior-mentioned studio-musician crew that was pulled together for this song, specifically Ringo Starr and Ronnie Wood.  It’s a good way to ease in. 

Often, when I try to put myself in the mindset of the classic rock musicians I love listening to, I find myself connecting with their 1970s world.  It may have something to do with the 70’s being my own formative period, but one thing for sure I’m drawn to is the variety of paths that musicians such as Starr, Dylan, and Wood took to stay relevant in their 2^nd decade of public life, as well as Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, Townshend, Moon, Richards, Jagger, Young and others.  Unlike their fallen comrades, including Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison, Brian Jones, Gram Parsons, and Danny Whitten, these musicians were survivors (at least for the time being for several of them), and most of them found ways to thrive moving forward out of the 60s. 

All sorts of adjustments and reevaluations came into play for these musicians in the 70s, including immersing into domestic life (Dylan, Lennon), religion (Dylan, Harrison, Townshend), epic artistic journeys (Quadrophenia, Blood on the Tracks, Exile on Main Street, Some Girls, Imagine, On the Beach, All Things Must Pass, Tonight’s the Night, Rust Never Sleeps, Who Are You) and musical experimentation into reggae, punk, country and gospel (Dylan, Richards, Jagger).  There were also coping mechanisms that played out in the form of drugs, hard living, etc., typical of what can happen to people after over a decade of life on the road and in the studio.  Ringo Starr and Ronnie Wood kinda fell into that trap during the 70s (each would ultimately find his way out).  And yet both musicians have always come across to me as good souls seeking true meaning in life.  Almost always, kind words come out of their mouths, with nary a dig on anyone. Therefore, Ringo and Ronnie were always invited to the party, seeing as everyone loved having them around, including Bob Dylan.  They were happy to oblige, all the way to ‘last call’ and beyond, because that’s how it plays out when you are a diehard who is also ‘in search of’… you don’t want to miss a thing.  I can relate to it.

Anyhow, I find it pretty darn cool that these 2 characters showed up at the Shot of Love sessions.  Everyone and his brother knew at the time that Bob Dylan was completely honed into his Faith.  He was preaching the Gospel to anyone who would listen, and if you were going to play music with him, be prepared to hear him sing about Jesus.  With Starr and Wood being fun-loving fellas, good time Charlies, you would think they would avoid such an atmosphere like they would avoid the plague.  After all, Ringo had been through this type of thing before with the Maharshi in India.  He was the first Beatle to get the hell out of Dodge.  And Ronnie remains in a band that will never be known for spreading the Good Word (although there are elements there for the Rolling Stones in their first decade, which I covered in several of my Stepping Stones entries). 

If Bob Dylan’s religious stretch of albums came, say, 5 years earlier, I don’t believe we would have seen such a studio visitation by Wood and Starr.  But by the early 80s, diehards like these two were starting to see other fellow party animals drop like flies, be it through burnout, breakdown or death.   Keith Moon was one who was particularly close to both.  Others included John Bonham, Bon Scott, Harry Nilsson, and Pete Townshend (Scott, Moon, and Bonham all went off to that great “Tower of Song” in the sky, where Townshend and Nilsson succumbed to burnout and breakdown – thank goodness Townshend bounced out of it).  It was reality check time, and Bob Dylan was offering spiritual wisdom to his friends in the form of Slow Train Coming (‘79), Saved (‘80) and now Shot of Love, as well as all the related concerts he was performing at the time (give a listen to the mesmerizing Bootleg Series Vol. 13: Trouble No More 1979-1981 to hear what Dylan sounded like live during his Gospel years).  It appears Ringo and Ronnie were listening. 

I find it particularly poignant that Ronnie Wood and Ringo Starr performed on “Heart of Mine”.  If not surrounded by proselytizing music on Shot of Love, this song could be interpreted as secular.  There are no overt religious connotations, just universally accepted dire warnings about the dangers of getting too enamored with yourself.  By the late 70s, Rock and Roll was on top of the world.  Musicians who were successful at it were masters of their universe; that “I am a Golden God!” sort of thing.  You had to be careful and not to let it get to your head.  “Heart of Mine” was a good way for Wood and Starr to wade into Bob Dylan’s brave new world without being bowled over.

Hmmm, so I spent most of my take on the meaning of “Heart of Mine” by relating the song to Bob Dylan’s friendly visitors in the studio.  I’d like to close by dissecting some of the lyrics.  Let’s start with the opening salvo, which kicks in while the musicians are still getting their feet under them:

“Heart of mine be still
You can play with fire but you’ll get the bill”

When I am singing along, I keep finding myself more often than not saying “pay the bill” in error.  This is a perfect (albeit minor) example of how Bob Dylan is a notch above the rest of the crowd.  I believe most other lyricists would have stated it the way I mistakenly do if they had written this song.  But in countless ways like this, Dylan always gets it just right.  In this example, he is saying that you will definitely get the bill at some point for misbehavior.  The choice is yours if you are willing to pay for it and in turn right the ship, so Dylan does not make that distinction.  The line hit me like a ton of bricks this past Monday on my way to work, singlehandedly pulling me from my original intent for the week (which was all lined up to be an entry centered on “Every Grain of Sand”).

The next line that hits me hard is:

“Heart of mine go back home
You got no reason to wander, no reason to roam”

This is the parable of The Prodigal Son in Dylan speak.  It’s a simple but deep message delivered in just 2 lines of lyrics; to try and connect with who we remember ourselves being when we were at our best. When we really knew who we were. 

And the last verse:

“Heart of mine so malicious and so full of guile
Give you an inch and you’ll take a mile
Don’t let yourself fall
Don’t let yourself stumble
If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime
Heart of mine”

Yow!  Like a good priest, Bob Dylan never lets you off the hook.  His music is like truth serum.  There is no comfort zone here, unless you are on the straight and narrow.  “Heart of Mine” brings out the soul searching in you and the discipline.  Despite the weighty subject matter, I love it, and again, that’s what I signed up for when I launched this series.

Every blessing.

- Pete