(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Chimes of
Freedom”
Album: Another Side of Bob Dylan
Release Date: August
1964
Several weeks ago, a retired colleague,
Chris, who reads my blogs, sent me the link to an October 12, 2018 Opinion article in the New York Times
titled “10 Great Protest Songs” ( https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/12/opinion/loudon-wainwright-protest-songs.html ). To my
surprise, the last entry in the list (presumably # 1) was “America the Beautiful”,
in its original, unsanitized form, which is unknown to most of us. As discussed in the article, that Kathy Lee
Bates version includes such lines as “America,
America, God shed his grace on thee. Till selfish gain no longer stain the
banner of the free”, and “Till nobler
men keep once again thy shining jubilee”.
“America the Beautiful”: A protest song indeed….and stripped of some of
its strength in our much more familiar version.
Around the same time, on a call home from
Panama, daughter Charlotte was lamenting a handful of national fiascos here in
the States in a never-ending wave of them (I can’t recall the specifics, but at
this stage you can just pick em’ out of a hat).
My daughter is an environmental scientist working in the tropics. Like her Dad, Charlotte struggles regularly
as she observes the lack of political willpower to tackle crucial issues like climate
change, made all the worse in the past two years with the reverse now actually
playing out; the United States having pulled out of the Paris Agreement
altogether making our homeland the only industrialized country in the world not
partaking in this critical international collaborative.
Charlotte considers today’s status quo as a
war on the environment, a thought she expressed on that call, and I couldn’t
agree more. How to respond to such
ignorance? Well, we talked about a
handful of ways people are doing this, which reminded me of protest songs and
that New York Times article. This lead
to my bringing up Bob Dylan’s early-60s protest songs, including the
no-holds-barred “Masters of War”. Since
Charlotte has been reading my blog entries, she then suggested I do a Blue Print about that one.
I’ve yet to write on Bob Dylan’s early
protest songs to any great degree, but I had planned to all along. And so, between Chris, Charlotte, and especially
the buildup of all that has played out on the national stage these past 2 years,
I was getting the hint that the time had arrived. It’s difficult however, because in the
context of this blog series I typically try not to pass judgement, and “Masters
of War” is as finger-pointing of a song as one could imagine. However, what I can do here is shine a light
on the ideals which I find to be righteous in the hope that the antithesis can
be revealed. So instead of a “Masters of War” focus, I’ve decided to tackle its
polar-opposite “Chimes of Freedom” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVIWA9VTiN8 ).
“Chimes of Freedom” is Bob Dylan’s version
of the Sermon on the Mount, a beautiful, heartfelt song of admiration. Here he recognizes…. the unarmed refugee, the underdog soldier (“in the night”), the
luckless, the rebel, the rake, the abandoned (“and forsaked”), the outcast
(“burnin’ constantly at stake”), the gentle, the kind, the "guardians and protectors of the mind" the "unpawned painter behind/beyond his rightful time (*
note the fantastic poetry in behind/beyond),
the deaf, the blind, the mute, the mistreated mateless mother, the mistitled
prostitute, the misdemeanor outlaw (“chased an’ cheated by pursuit”), the
lonesome-hearted lovers (“with too personal a tale”), the searching ones (“on
their speechless, seeking trail”), the unharmful gentle souls misplaced inside
a jail, the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts, the aching ones whose
wounds cannot be nursed, the countless confused accused misused strung-out ones
an’ worse, and finally “every hung-up person in the whole wide universe”.
The definition of protest is “a solemn
declaration”, which Bob Dylan empathizes with in “Chimes of Freedom” for each characterization
in the previous paragraph. Last week I
drove seven hours north for a work trip from Massachusetts to Ottawa, Ontario,
Canada. As I was nearing my destination
I decided to reflect on my own observations of freedom chimers, while listening
repeatedly to that song. What played out
in a 2-hour time-span were seven mental connections to both the people in my
personal life and those in the public eye (actors, musicians, politicians,
other newsmakers). I’ve fleshed out all
7 of those domino-connections below, followed by an abbreviated collection of other,
more determined thoughts that came to me afterwards. Without further ado:
Ok, well, perhaps it was because I was on a
work trip, but the first thought that hit me was of a genuine, generous
colleague, Silvia, who work-travels in similar circles as myself. The two of us were in Austin, Texas about 5
years ago, and after a long day’s meeting we headed uptown to the Congress Ave
Bridge over the Colorado River (not that
Colorado River, but a much smaller, albeit significant one in west Texas) to
catch a natural phenomenon: Thousands of Mexican Free-Tailed Bats uniformly leaving
their roosts under the bridge to fly off and feed at night. We were hanging out waiting for the action to
commence when a homeless guy who called himself “Batman” approached us in a
somewhat tattered ‘batman’ outfit. This benign
gentleman, with obvious mental challenges, offered a small token pin with a bat
on it, hoping for a couple of bucks in return. I had no cash on me, and Silvia
only had a $20. She accepted the pin and
handed him the bill without hesitation, while also engaging with Batman in a kindly,
compassionate way. A relatively minor expression
of good will, sure, but revealing to the true character of this colleague. This reflection was a perfect one to begin
delving into my Ottawa car-ride chain of thoughts. Silvia, striking for the
gentle: Chimes of freedom.
With “bridge” as metaphor (in more ways
than one), I suddenly found myself recalling an article I had read 13 years ago
about New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.
This article included several paragraphs where the keen-eyed author had
spotted an unassuming famous person on an off-the-beaten-path uptown bridge helping
the downtrodden one at a time in whatever way he could; sweat, toil and all. When I first read this story, my brain was
apparently not functioning properly seeing as, where the words on the page were
recognizing actor Sean Penn’s actions, I was mentally interpreting the name as ‘Sean
Hannity’ of Fox News claim. Immediately,
I began to second-guess my belief-system, thinking ‘wow, there’s a humanitarian in Sean Hannity after all’. A day later I proceeded to show my wife the
article and at that moment realized my error:
My views of quality persona had not been challenged after all (which was
in some ways disappointing). Sean Penn (not Hannity) striking for the
underdog soldier in the night: Chimes of freedom.
From there, I thought of humanitarians in
my own life, near the top of that list being my late, great Aunt Ginger, a
Dominican Sister (Nun), whom I have written about before. Sister Virginia Smith had made many
humanitarian gestures in her too-short-a-time on Earth, with one of these being
of special fascination to me. It was a
trip my Aunt had made to Southeast Asia near the end of the Vietnam War in 1975,
to address the safety of the local Dominican Sisters as the world was
collapsing around them. The writing was
on the wall that the South was soon to be overtaken. Chaos and finger pointing were already
kicking in. These nuns were facing persecution
from many directions. Ginger headed
right into the danger, bombs dropping around her in several of the regions she
visited. I believe this experience had a huge influence, and that my aunt came
back home even deeper in her faith-centric convictions than when she had
left. Aunt Ginger, striking for the unharmful gentle
souls misplaced inside a jail: Chimes of freedom.
With that said, my thoughts then jumped to
capital punishment and actress Susan Sarandon’s moving portrayal of Sister
Helen Prejean in the based-on-true-story film Dead Man Walking. Sarandon’s
portrayal has always reminded me of my Aunt Ginger (that mind-leap of mine could
also very likely have been related to the prior-mentioned Sean Penn, who
co-starred in Dead Man Walking). I soon found myself thinking too of former
New York Governor Mario Cuomo, who once signed an affidavit while in public
office, which stated in so many words that if he or anyone close to him was
ever killed in a violent way, that the death penalty be off the table. The ability to forgive is a blessed thing,
which includes an understanding that we are not to be the final judge. Mario Cuomo and Sister Helen Prejean, striking
for the countless, confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse:
Chimes of freedom.
No doubt by this stage I had a higher power
on my mind as my thoughts again drifted, this time to a preacher in my hometown
of Pepperell, Bob, who periodically sits at the corner table of a popular local
diner with a bible and preaches to the few who are willing to stop and listen. Bob is a fiery vociferous soul, but he speaks
truth. I’ve granted him my ear on
several occasions when I’ve had the time to do so. He rarely strays from his biblical discourse,
and if he does, it is only to make a faith-centered point from a slightly
different perspective. Bob has talked to
me in eye-opening ways about his father’s conversion late in life and explained
in passionate detail several Biblical passages, including one that really stuck
with me about the reason Jesus asked Peter 3 times if he loved him (John 21:
15-17), which was better than any explanation I’d ever heard in church. Rarely do the folks in town heed his words,
but this does not deter him. Bob the
street preacher, striking for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts: Chimes of Freedom.
No recognition like these would be complete
without including my parents, and so as I arrived in Ottawa’s outskirts, my
final reflections were on Mom and Dad’s lifelong freedom-chiming ways. These ways would include their open-door
policy to all of mine and my sibling’s friends.
These ways would include their trust in us. These ways would include their welcoming of the
needy into their home. These ways would
include their soft touch with advice.
These ways would include their willingness to let us be ourselves. These ways would include their faith-centric
home. These ways would include their
inclusiveness, their generosity, their patience. Mom and Dad striking for the kind: Chimes of
freedom.
There you go; 7 thoughts, somewhat fleshed
out, from roughly 2 hours of driving. Over
the course of the week, a number of others came to mind. I’ll surmise these in
short order here:
In terms of those in the public eye (which
you will have to look up yourself if unknowing and curious), ‘Chimes of Freedom’
also go out to Maximillian Kolbe, Martin Luther King Jr, the Mississippi
Freedom Riders, the Standing Rock and Cheyenne River Sioux tribes protesting
the transcontinental Dakota gas pipelines, , recipients of last week’s pipe
bombs (all freedom fighters in my book), the Tiananmen Square “Tank Man”,
Jennifer Castle and Blake Spalding, Rev. William Barber II, David Attenborough,
Jane Goodall, Mahatma Gandhi, Linus Pauling, Mother Teresa, Elie Wiesel, Nelson
Mandela, Yitzhak Rabin, Jimmy Carter, Shirin Ebadi, Martti Ahtisaari, Barack
Obama, Bobby Kennedy, Pope Francis, Jamal Khashoggi and …..Bob Dylan.
Chimes of Freedom also go out to anyone promoting
green energy, anyone standing up for the rights of the unborn through a
faith-based – vs legal – position, anyone who knows how to swallow their pride,
and anyone who donates large, beautiful land-holdings to the public. So too those chimes go out to doctors without
borders, conservationists, organic farmers, people choosing solidarity over
power, and people choosing peaceful protest over war.
And Chimes of Freedom go out to those who
still believe in the words on the Statue of Liberty, particularly in these
times of ugly discourse. For those in
the good ol’ USA, here’s a reminder: “Give
me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free, The
wretched refuse of your teeming shore”.
I’m reminded of a caravan making its way through Mexico as I write this.
Yes, give them to us until we are saturated.
With that said, I too recognize an immigration lawyer and great friend
of my wife, Nancy and mine. Madeline’s
chimes of freedom ring true for the unarmed refuge.
In terms of others in my life, there is Father Peter and his profound homilies,
and another friend of Nancy’s named Barbara who passed away yesterday (“the
mistreated mateless mother”). Then,
there’s the friends of ours who have worked their way through addictions, as
well as family and friends who have donated their time to good causes. And of course, my wife and her kindly ways
with others.
Finally, Chimes of Freedom go out to my daughter
Charlotte, who was the tipping-point inspiration for me to write this
entry. Charlotte stands for so much that
is good in this world. She has connected
with the oppressed in civil-strife-torn Nicaragua. She has connected with indigenous people in
Panama who have pressures on their way of life.
She has made strides on environmental science at the Smithsonian
Institute for Tropical Ecology in Panama City.
She has eloquently expressed herself in her creative writing and through
her magnificent art. She has immersed
herself in rainforest ecology. Charlotte is certainly one of those freedom
chimers who is making it happen.
Get out and vote, folks
- Pete
Personal reflections based on the inspiration of songs. The "Fab Foundations" series (2020) is inspired by the music of the Beatles. "Master Blueprints" (2018) centered on Bob Dylan. "Under the Big Top" (2016) was on the Who. “Forever Young” (2014) was Neil Young centric. “Stepping Stones” (2012) focused on the Rolling Stones. The first 100 postings (the original "Gem Videos") emailed to friends and family and later added here are from 2008 and 2009; include songs from a variety of musicians.
Saturday, November 3, 2018
Sunday, October 21, 2018
Master Blueprints # 39: "Well God Is in Heaven, and We All Want What’s His”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Blind Willie McTell”
Album: The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961 - 1991
Release Date: March 1991
Count me in among a growing list of Bob Dylan fans who are in various stages of acceptance/denial regarding the distinct probability that The Bard (as many call him) most likely determined quite some time ago that his 2012 album Tempest would be his last record of originally-penned songs (Dylan has since released 3 albums of covers). I could very easily be putting foot in mouth here but listening now gives me a compelling sense that Tempest was his ‘swan song’. Yes, I’m beginning to accept that Bob Dylan is not going to try and crank em’ out all the way to his dying days, like Leonard Cohen did.
If Tempest is indeed Dylan’s final cut, it would be a truly apropos (and, at least for the time being, vastly underrated) stamp and seal on an exquisite, voluminous song-writing career. To explain why I feel this way, I’m going to take a different tact than I usually do with these blog entries. I’m going dive into the deep end out of the gate, rather than attempt to wade in and build things up, like I am usually wont to do. There’s simply too much here to ease my way in.
Ok, so I’d like to think of myself as a peace-loving, optimistic, upbeat kinda guy, but I can’t deny that I love listening to this dark and dire album, Tempest, which is loaded with songs of carnage, culminating with the second-to-last track on the album, the title track, a 14-minute epic which tackles the sinking of the Titanic. Tucked among the 45 verses of blood, sweat and tears are these three:
“The captain, barely breathing
Kneeling at the wheel
Above him and beneath him
Fifty thousand tons of steel
He looked over at his compass
And he gazed into its face
Needle pointing downward
He knew he lost the race
In the dark illumination
He remembered bygone years
He read the Book of Revelation
And he filled his cup with tears”
Alright then, as you can see above in the 3rd of 3 snipped-out stanzas there is a reference to the Bible’s final book (Revelation), and this being on, what could very possibly be Bob Dylan’s final album of original recordings. The Tempest also happens to be the title of Shakespeare’s final play, albeit with the leading article “The” in the title, as has been noted by others (namely Dylan himself when the Shakespeare title was pointed out to him). Is this song an analogy to the Bible’s Apocalypse, the central theme in Revelation? After listening over the last 3 weeks, it would not take much more to convince me. This notion could also factor with other songs that precede “Tempest” on the album, including the equally morbid/fascinating “Tin Angel”, “Scarlet Town”, and “Early Roman Kings”.
I had not come anywhere near such a conclusion until I delved deeper into the last song on the album, “Roll on John”. Most lyrics in this song are unmistakable ties to one Mr. John Winston Ono Lennon, including references to the Quarrymen (Lennon’s first band), cheap seats (high above the jewelry rattlers), “A Day in the Life”, “Come Together”, and …. his brutal murder. Aside from Bob Dylan’s reflections on that sad, tragic December New York night in 1980, one could easily conclude that this song is an anomaly on the album: An ode to a lost comrade in arms, and nothing more.
However, there are a handful of verses that clearly do not fit the concept of a tribute to John Lennon…. most notably this one:
“Sailin’ through the trade winds bound for the south
Rags on your back just like any other slave
They tied your hands and they clamped your mouth
Wasn’t no way out of that deep dark cave”
This had me doing a bit of research on the web, where I came upon a mind-boggling, 16-page (pdf) synopsis of the song on an equally impressive website hosted by one Kees de Graaf: ( https://www.keesdegraaf.com/media/Misc/1882p17psou9fm1e1d41g5m9gfs11p81.pdf ). The document makes a strong case for yet another John – Saint John the Apostle – as the human reference to not just these lyrics, but also to many other lyrics in “Roll on John”. Saint John, of course, is the author of The Book of Revelation (if not the direct author, then at the very least one of two central figures for a holy ghostwriter – the other being God). According to de Graaf (and I tend to agree) the lyrics above are about Saint John’s imprisonment and slavery on the island of Patmos in the Aegean Sea, near the end of his life, when the Book of Revelation was written. Many other great points are made by Kees de Graaf on his website, including another unavoidable one I tap below, but I’ll try not steal his thunder here. I only suggest for you Bob Dylan lovers out there, that you listen to the song again and that you read the de Graaf synopsis while you are doing so.
Ok, so “Roll on John” caps off an album with numerous references to The Book of Revelation, primarily in that song. In and of itself, very cool. However, why is John Lennon in the mix? De Graaf also gets into this angle. I’ll get into that myself in a bit from my own perspective. First, I’d like to go where my mind took me from here earlier this week. In fact, things were already playing out coincidentally on the sidelines. For, as I was listening to songs off Tempest, such as the title track and “Roll on John”, I was also listening to the astonishing “Blind Willie McTell” ( https://vimeo.com/179637318 ), a song Bob Dylan had recorded in the early 80s, but which would not see the light of day until a decade later, on his The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-2 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961 – 1991.
“Blind Willie McTell” is an ode to a blues guitarist/singer who performed in the 20s, 30s and 40s. As be the case with “Roll on John” though, there is also ambiguity and seeming dissociation in this song: Martyrs in East Texas, slave ships, plantations burning, cracking of whips, the rebel yell. All leading up to the final verse:
“Well, God is in heaven
And we all want what’s his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I’m gazing out the window
Of the St. James Hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell”
What is it that has Bob Dylan thinking that no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell? Well let’s see… if an alien were to land on Earth tomorrow and ask me to define the meaning of the Blues in a nutshell, I’d say that it’s having suffered and then being able to rise above that suffering and then finally being able to express that struggle musically from a position of strength and defiance. I believe what Dylan is saying here in this song is that Blind Willie McTell was able to express not only his own struggles, but those of a people, particularly enslaved Africans from generations prior. McTell had the grace to tap into that well of despair.
“Roll on John” and “Blind Willie McTell” together had me thinking…. what other songs in Bob Dylan’s vast catalog (over 350 songs) has he written with fellow musicians in the title and in mind? The only one I could think of was “Song to Woody”, which was one of 2 original songs on Bob Dylan’s eponymous first album in 1961 (can anyone name any others? Again, I can’t, other than the likelihood that Dylan’s brilliant ways rubbed off on Rick Danko and Robbie Robertson in their penning of “Bessie Smith”). “Woody” of course refers to Woody Guthrie, arguably the most influential musician (and man) in Dylan’s life and career.
Here’s where I became truly moved this week. Most of the lyrics in “Song to Woody” are relatively straightforward: An ode to a musical and cultural icon. It’s in the closing verse where things get heavier, and absolutely fascinating in relation to both “Blind Willie McTell”, and “Roll on John”. For this verse includes the lines… “The very last thing that I’d want to do, is to say I’ve been hittin’ some hard travelin’ too”. I reflected on those words for a while, transfixed, as I recalled Kees de Graaf’s great writeup. I was now truly appreciating his appreciation for the last verse in “Roll on John” (what is it about last verses in these 3 songs?), which goes:
“Tyger, tyger burning bright
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
In the forests of the night
Cover ‘em over and let him sleep”
Here’s part of what Kees de Graaf states about this verse: “‘cover him over and let him sleep’. Just what John the Apostle said in his Book of Revelation Chapter 14 verse 13. ‘And I heard a voice from heaven saying “Write this down: Blessed are those who die in the Lord from now on. Yes, says the Spirit, they are blessed indeed, for they will rest from their hard work; for their good deeds follow them!” “. In those closing lines of that closing song on that likely closing album, de Graaf is pointing out that the focus has shifted, from John Lennon, through Saint John to the song’s author, Mr. Bob Dylan himself. That young singer-songwriter’s wish to be “hittin’ some hard travelin’ too” has come true, has it not? What I take here in the last verse of both Dylan’s first album song and his last is that he seeks salvation and has been seeking it his entire public life. Now, he’s run the gamut and has been aware of his goals all along. The closing verse on “Roll on John” kinda puts a lid on it all.
As for “Blind Willie McTell” and its ties to “Song to Woody”, it comes down to that definition I gave of the Blues. The best musicians – the best artists for that matter – are the ones who bare their soul. By doing this, they open their minds and hearts to other struggles, be they in the present or in the distant past. Bob Dylan made a declaration early in his career right there in the lyrics to “Song to Woody”. He has stuck with it. He has followed his light. If no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell, then it must too be said that no one can wax poetic in musical form like Nobel Prize winner Bob Dylan. There’s a reason for this. If you don’t stray from your muse, amazing things will happen.
And this goes for John Lennon too. Bob Dylan was not all that close with Lennon, but he was with George Harrison. My thinking is that Beatle George shed some light to Dylan on John Lennon’s character. There’s a George quote in The Beatles Anthology book that struck me when I first read it:
"John and I had a very interesting relationship. That I was younger, or I was smaller was no longer any embarrassment with John (by the mid-60s). Paul still says, 'I suppose we looked down on George because he was younger', That is an illusion people are under. It's nothing to do with how many years old you are or how big your body is. It's down to what your greater consciousness is and if you can live in harmony with what's going on in creation. John and I spent a lot of time together from then on and I felt closer to him than all the others, right through until his death. As Yoko came into the picture, I lost a lot of personal contact with John, but on the odd occasion I did see him, just by the look in his eyes I felt we were connected."
This tells me that John Lennon worked hard at his artistic craft from a greater consciousness perspective. Regardless, it’s all there in the music. So too for Woody Guthrie. And Blind Willie McTell. And of course, for Bob Dylan. If salvation can be measured by the quality of your output, and in turn the number souls you have touched, then I’m of the belief that all these musicians have a significant leg up on that ultimate quest.
- Pete
Song: “Blind Willie McTell”
Album: The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961 - 1991
Release Date: March 1991
Count me in among a growing list of Bob Dylan fans who are in various stages of acceptance/denial regarding the distinct probability that The Bard (as many call him) most likely determined quite some time ago that his 2012 album Tempest would be his last record of originally-penned songs (Dylan has since released 3 albums of covers). I could very easily be putting foot in mouth here but listening now gives me a compelling sense that Tempest was his ‘swan song’. Yes, I’m beginning to accept that Bob Dylan is not going to try and crank em’ out all the way to his dying days, like Leonard Cohen did.
If Tempest is indeed Dylan’s final cut, it would be a truly apropos (and, at least for the time being, vastly underrated) stamp and seal on an exquisite, voluminous song-writing career. To explain why I feel this way, I’m going to take a different tact than I usually do with these blog entries. I’m going dive into the deep end out of the gate, rather than attempt to wade in and build things up, like I am usually wont to do. There’s simply too much here to ease my way in.
Ok, so I’d like to think of myself as a peace-loving, optimistic, upbeat kinda guy, but I can’t deny that I love listening to this dark and dire album, Tempest, which is loaded with songs of carnage, culminating with the second-to-last track on the album, the title track, a 14-minute epic which tackles the sinking of the Titanic. Tucked among the 45 verses of blood, sweat and tears are these three:
“The captain, barely breathing
Kneeling at the wheel
Above him and beneath him
Fifty thousand tons of steel
He looked over at his compass
And he gazed into its face
Needle pointing downward
He knew he lost the race
In the dark illumination
He remembered bygone years
He read the Book of Revelation
And he filled his cup with tears”
Alright then, as you can see above in the 3rd of 3 snipped-out stanzas there is a reference to the Bible’s final book (Revelation), and this being on, what could very possibly be Bob Dylan’s final album of original recordings. The Tempest also happens to be the title of Shakespeare’s final play, albeit with the leading article “The” in the title, as has been noted by others (namely Dylan himself when the Shakespeare title was pointed out to him). Is this song an analogy to the Bible’s Apocalypse, the central theme in Revelation? After listening over the last 3 weeks, it would not take much more to convince me. This notion could also factor with other songs that precede “Tempest” on the album, including the equally morbid/fascinating “Tin Angel”, “Scarlet Town”, and “Early Roman Kings”.
I had not come anywhere near such a conclusion until I delved deeper into the last song on the album, “Roll on John”. Most lyrics in this song are unmistakable ties to one Mr. John Winston Ono Lennon, including references to the Quarrymen (Lennon’s first band), cheap seats (high above the jewelry rattlers), “A Day in the Life”, “Come Together”, and …. his brutal murder. Aside from Bob Dylan’s reflections on that sad, tragic December New York night in 1980, one could easily conclude that this song is an anomaly on the album: An ode to a lost comrade in arms, and nothing more.
However, there are a handful of verses that clearly do not fit the concept of a tribute to John Lennon…. most notably this one:
“Sailin’ through the trade winds bound for the south
Rags on your back just like any other slave
They tied your hands and they clamped your mouth
Wasn’t no way out of that deep dark cave”
This had me doing a bit of research on the web, where I came upon a mind-boggling, 16-page (pdf) synopsis of the song on an equally impressive website hosted by one Kees de Graaf: ( https://www.keesdegraaf.com/media/Misc/1882p17psou9fm1e1d41g5m9gfs11p81.pdf ). The document makes a strong case for yet another John – Saint John the Apostle – as the human reference to not just these lyrics, but also to many other lyrics in “Roll on John”. Saint John, of course, is the author of The Book of Revelation (if not the direct author, then at the very least one of two central figures for a holy ghostwriter – the other being God). According to de Graaf (and I tend to agree) the lyrics above are about Saint John’s imprisonment and slavery on the island of Patmos in the Aegean Sea, near the end of his life, when the Book of Revelation was written. Many other great points are made by Kees de Graaf on his website, including another unavoidable one I tap below, but I’ll try not steal his thunder here. I only suggest for you Bob Dylan lovers out there, that you listen to the song again and that you read the de Graaf synopsis while you are doing so.
Ok, so “Roll on John” caps off an album with numerous references to The Book of Revelation, primarily in that song. In and of itself, very cool. However, why is John Lennon in the mix? De Graaf also gets into this angle. I’ll get into that myself in a bit from my own perspective. First, I’d like to go where my mind took me from here earlier this week. In fact, things were already playing out coincidentally on the sidelines. For, as I was listening to songs off Tempest, such as the title track and “Roll on John”, I was also listening to the astonishing “Blind Willie McTell” ( https://vimeo.com/179637318 ), a song Bob Dylan had recorded in the early 80s, but which would not see the light of day until a decade later, on his The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-2 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961 – 1991.
“Blind Willie McTell” is an ode to a blues guitarist/singer who performed in the 20s, 30s and 40s. As be the case with “Roll on John” though, there is also ambiguity and seeming dissociation in this song: Martyrs in East Texas, slave ships, plantations burning, cracking of whips, the rebel yell. All leading up to the final verse:
“Well, God is in heaven
And we all want what’s his
But power and greed and corruptible seed
Seem to be all that there is
I’m gazing out the window
Of the St. James Hotel
And I know no one can sing the blues
Like Blind Willie McTell”
What is it that has Bob Dylan thinking that no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell? Well let’s see… if an alien were to land on Earth tomorrow and ask me to define the meaning of the Blues in a nutshell, I’d say that it’s having suffered and then being able to rise above that suffering and then finally being able to express that struggle musically from a position of strength and defiance. I believe what Dylan is saying here in this song is that Blind Willie McTell was able to express not only his own struggles, but those of a people, particularly enslaved Africans from generations prior. McTell had the grace to tap into that well of despair.
“Roll on John” and “Blind Willie McTell” together had me thinking…. what other songs in Bob Dylan’s vast catalog (over 350 songs) has he written with fellow musicians in the title and in mind? The only one I could think of was “Song to Woody”, which was one of 2 original songs on Bob Dylan’s eponymous first album in 1961 (can anyone name any others? Again, I can’t, other than the likelihood that Dylan’s brilliant ways rubbed off on Rick Danko and Robbie Robertson in their penning of “Bessie Smith”). “Woody” of course refers to Woody Guthrie, arguably the most influential musician (and man) in Dylan’s life and career.
Here’s where I became truly moved this week. Most of the lyrics in “Song to Woody” are relatively straightforward: An ode to a musical and cultural icon. It’s in the closing verse where things get heavier, and absolutely fascinating in relation to both “Blind Willie McTell”, and “Roll on John”. For this verse includes the lines… “The very last thing that I’d want to do, is to say I’ve been hittin’ some hard travelin’ too”. I reflected on those words for a while, transfixed, as I recalled Kees de Graaf’s great writeup. I was now truly appreciating his appreciation for the last verse in “Roll on John” (what is it about last verses in these 3 songs?), which goes:
“Tyger, tyger burning bright
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
In the forests of the night
Cover ‘em over and let him sleep”
Here’s part of what Kees de Graaf states about this verse: “‘cover him over and let him sleep’. Just what John the Apostle said in his Book of Revelation Chapter 14 verse 13. ‘And I heard a voice from heaven saying “Write this down: Blessed are those who die in the Lord from now on. Yes, says the Spirit, they are blessed indeed, for they will rest from their hard work; for their good deeds follow them!” “. In those closing lines of that closing song on that likely closing album, de Graaf is pointing out that the focus has shifted, from John Lennon, through Saint John to the song’s author, Mr. Bob Dylan himself. That young singer-songwriter’s wish to be “hittin’ some hard travelin’ too” has come true, has it not? What I take here in the last verse of both Dylan’s first album song and his last is that he seeks salvation and has been seeking it his entire public life. Now, he’s run the gamut and has been aware of his goals all along. The closing verse on “Roll on John” kinda puts a lid on it all.
As for “Blind Willie McTell” and its ties to “Song to Woody”, it comes down to that definition I gave of the Blues. The best musicians – the best artists for that matter – are the ones who bare their soul. By doing this, they open their minds and hearts to other struggles, be they in the present or in the distant past. Bob Dylan made a declaration early in his career right there in the lyrics to “Song to Woody”. He has stuck with it. He has followed his light. If no one can sing the blues like Blind Willie McTell, then it must too be said that no one can wax poetic in musical form like Nobel Prize winner Bob Dylan. There’s a reason for this. If you don’t stray from your muse, amazing things will happen.
And this goes for John Lennon too. Bob Dylan was not all that close with Lennon, but he was with George Harrison. My thinking is that Beatle George shed some light to Dylan on John Lennon’s character. There’s a George quote in The Beatles Anthology book that struck me when I first read it:
"John and I had a very interesting relationship. That I was younger, or I was smaller was no longer any embarrassment with John (by the mid-60s). Paul still says, 'I suppose we looked down on George because he was younger', That is an illusion people are under. It's nothing to do with how many years old you are or how big your body is. It's down to what your greater consciousness is and if you can live in harmony with what's going on in creation. John and I spent a lot of time together from then on and I felt closer to him than all the others, right through until his death. As Yoko came into the picture, I lost a lot of personal contact with John, but on the odd occasion I did see him, just by the look in his eyes I felt we were connected."
This tells me that John Lennon worked hard at his artistic craft from a greater consciousness perspective. Regardless, it’s all there in the music. So too for Woody Guthrie. And Blind Willie McTell. And of course, for Bob Dylan. If salvation can be measured by the quality of your output, and in turn the number souls you have touched, then I’m of the belief that all these musicians have a significant leg up on that ultimate quest.
- Pete
Sunday, October 14, 2018
Master Blueprints # 38: "I’m Beginning to Hear Voices. And There’s No One Around”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Cold Irons Bound”
Album: Time Out of Mind
Release Date: September 1997
Autumn has always been a particularly stimulating season for me. All five senses seem to go into overdrive. I’m sure living in New England has something to do with it: The fall foliage (seen), the falling acorns (heard) the evening breeze (touched), the wood burning in the fireplace (smelled), the pumpkin pie (tasted). Perhaps as an effect of all this multi-sense stimulation, my memories tend to be retained more intensely from autumn-seasons gone by - in relation to other seasons. I’ve recently wondered if this is my brain tapping into its most primal modes of survival: Ancient ancestral genes and synapses having stored prehistoric experiences in every way possible, to best track, and to best elude.
My fall memories have played out on these blog pages over the years, most notably in relation to Halloween. Go figure! It’s not like this celebration stands out among other annual celebrations - such as Christmas, New Year’s Eve, Thanksgiving, Easter, and the Fourth of July - when it comes to special moments. But Halloween does benefit from sitting smack dab in the middle of that leaf-dropping, night-moves, wind-swept, memory-soaked time-of-year. The Halloween’s of yesteryear that I’ve devoted writeups to already are; 1) the evening I met my wife (see my The Who-centric “Under the Big Top” series entry # 16 here ) and; 2) the hilarious night my son Peter decided to don a Richard Nixon mask for trick-or-treating (see my Neil Young-centric “Forever Young” series entry # 37 here ). I’m going to add to that list here with another Halloween memory, this one much earlier in my life. But before I do, I want to tie in the Bob Dylan angle.
This is the 3rd time I’ve swung back to Time out of Mind in this Master Blueprint series. It goes to show how great of an album I think it is (the only other album with a Blueprint threepeat thus far is Bringing It All Back Home). Time out of Mind is a haunting disc, about love lost. Every song attempts to express this unique type of pain, with memories, analogies, regrets and innuendos piling up from track to track, and a likely journey down the Mississippi River (and Highway 61) cutting across it all (see Master Blueprint # 11: here ). There’s imagery everywhere on this album, with one song in particular -- the mesmerizing, bass-guitar-driven “Cold Irons Bound” -- offering up the strongest imagery of them all. Much of it comes courtesy of a single refraining line:
“20 miles out of town in Cold Irons bound”
Setting aside the fact that ‘Cold Irons’ is capitalized in the lyrics (connoting that this could be a place - as opposed to shackles - …. a place where you don’t want to be), I’d like to focus here on that more obvious image: A man in chains, twenty miles from any semblance of hope. This image is so visual to me, in ways similar to the powerful visual effect that comes with listening to “All Along the Watchtower” (see Master Blueprint # 32: here ). In my mind’s eye I see a vast forest sprawled out between the imprisoned protagonist and the town. I see darkness. I see howling wind and pouring rain. I see …. Iron Maiden album covers (now there’s one band I never thought I’d mention in this blog series). I see Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado”.
And, I see the childhood Aurora model “The Forgotten Prisoner of Castle Mare” ( here ), which my lifelong friend, Phil, had finished and painted at the base of his cellar stairs, an eerie entry into the labyrinth beyond.
Phil’s Martin Avenue home was next-door to my family’s home in my early grade school years (we moved a few blocks away when I entered 6th grade). Our homes were in an idyllic New England neighborhood in the then-small town of Franklin, Massachusetts. Old stately Victorians, along with cottage-style and farmhouse-style homes surrounded us. Equally old and stately trees lined the avenues. There was plenty of woods. There were train tracks, which were well-traveled by my friends and I. And all of it was close to a classic Bedford-Falls-style downtown.
This was all quite bucolic, but such an environment could also play games with the wild and vivid imaginations of a young adolescent, especially in the fall. Large oak trees with their rustling leaves could take on a life of their own to a wandering mind. At night, heading home from any number of friend’s homes nearby, shadows danced about. The wind made human-like howling noises. What’s around that corner? The Forgotten Prisoner coming back to seek revenge on anyone who dared cross his path? I’m tellin’ ya, when I hear that driving Tony Garnier bass beat kicking off Bob Dylan’s “Cold Irons Bound”, it’s like the soundtrack to those spooky moments.
It was during one of those Autumn nights in our home on Martin Ave, just before Halloween, when my parents and their closest hometown friends, the Rappa’s, gathered all their kids (along with Phil and another neighbor friend, Jeff) down into the cellar. We sat in a circle. Not soon after, the lights went out, excepting for a candle which flickered on a small table beside Mr. Rappa, who commenced to reading an unfamiliar poem called “The Terrible Ghost Story” from a thick book of many short poems. It began “There was a man named Joshua Brown, who disappeared one night from town”. That caught our attention.
After each verse, Mr. Rappa hesitated in order that we could take in the gruesome details of a fictional murder victim being discovered one body part at a time (i.e. “as they searched the fields and lanes, they came upon the victim’s veins”). The breaks in the action were highlighted by our parents in two ways. The first of these were recommendations in the book, whereby a given ‘body part’ (food items, such as grapes for eyes) had been pre-prepared in baggies. These items would be passed around from one trembling, blinded, nervously-giggling kid to the next (the poem is at the end of this post, including the suggested food items in parenthesis…. you can probably guess ahead what item was used for those veins). The second highlight was much more impromptu; my Dad whacking the oil tank in the rear of the basement with a baseball bat after each verse, to produce a loud, horrifying GONG (we eventually got a kick out it).
This was a hugely successful coup by my parents and the Rappa’s, seeing as none of us kids would ever forget it. However, our Mom’s and Dad’s would have to deal with the immediate after effects for a spell. I for one didn’t sleep all that great that evening, or subsequent evenings for that matter, and I’m pretty sure the same went for my friends and siblings. My buddy, Jeff, had to head back to his home in the dark that evening, which was less than a block away (we could see his home from ours). I watched him out the window with my Mom. I have to say, I’ve never seen anyone move that fast before or since. The long-term effect was much more positive though. Moments like the one my parents and their friends created in that dark basement can be expansive to the imagination of a young mind; indelible, often in unforeseen ways. Counterintuitively, I believe it’s the sort of thing that can have you ultimately overcoming your fears.
It took me decades to track down “The Terrible Ghost Story” again, which I accomplished about 15 years ago. At the time, I preserved the poem in its entirety. However, for the life of me I could not find it one last time this week, in order that I could credit the author, who I do not recall. I apologize up front to the author (as well as anyone reading this whose name is Joshua Brown). If anybody can track down the poem’s author, I’d be grateful, and I will subsequently include it here.
As for “Cold Irons Bound”, it’s these same terrorized emotions that Bob Dylan tries to pull out of us in this song (how else could you interpret a song that begins with the lyrics “I’m beginning to hear voices, and there’s no one around”). Since I cannot find the original bass-driven version on line I’ll have to settle for this alternate take (I recommend the original though): Cold Irons Bound alternate take
Keep alert in the night air, folks. And be careful of what might be behind that large oak tree up ahead.
Boo!
- Pete
Song: “Cold Irons Bound”
Album: Time Out of Mind
Release Date: September 1997
Autumn has always been a particularly stimulating season for me. All five senses seem to go into overdrive. I’m sure living in New England has something to do with it: The fall foliage (seen), the falling acorns (heard) the evening breeze (touched), the wood burning in the fireplace (smelled), the pumpkin pie (tasted). Perhaps as an effect of all this multi-sense stimulation, my memories tend to be retained more intensely from autumn-seasons gone by - in relation to other seasons. I’ve recently wondered if this is my brain tapping into its most primal modes of survival: Ancient ancestral genes and synapses having stored prehistoric experiences in every way possible, to best track, and to best elude.
My fall memories have played out on these blog pages over the years, most notably in relation to Halloween. Go figure! It’s not like this celebration stands out among other annual celebrations - such as Christmas, New Year’s Eve, Thanksgiving, Easter, and the Fourth of July - when it comes to special moments. But Halloween does benefit from sitting smack dab in the middle of that leaf-dropping, night-moves, wind-swept, memory-soaked time-of-year. The Halloween’s of yesteryear that I’ve devoted writeups to already are; 1) the evening I met my wife (see my The Who-centric “Under the Big Top” series entry # 16 here ) and; 2) the hilarious night my son Peter decided to don a Richard Nixon mask for trick-or-treating (see my Neil Young-centric “Forever Young” series entry # 37 here ). I’m going to add to that list here with another Halloween memory, this one much earlier in my life. But before I do, I want to tie in the Bob Dylan angle.
This is the 3rd time I’ve swung back to Time out of Mind in this Master Blueprint series. It goes to show how great of an album I think it is (the only other album with a Blueprint threepeat thus far is Bringing It All Back Home). Time out of Mind is a haunting disc, about love lost. Every song attempts to express this unique type of pain, with memories, analogies, regrets and innuendos piling up from track to track, and a likely journey down the Mississippi River (and Highway 61) cutting across it all (see Master Blueprint # 11: here ). There’s imagery everywhere on this album, with one song in particular -- the mesmerizing, bass-guitar-driven “Cold Irons Bound” -- offering up the strongest imagery of them all. Much of it comes courtesy of a single refraining line:
“20 miles out of town in Cold Irons bound”
Setting aside the fact that ‘Cold Irons’ is capitalized in the lyrics (connoting that this could be a place - as opposed to shackles - …. a place where you don’t want to be), I’d like to focus here on that more obvious image: A man in chains, twenty miles from any semblance of hope. This image is so visual to me, in ways similar to the powerful visual effect that comes with listening to “All Along the Watchtower” (see Master Blueprint # 32: here ). In my mind’s eye I see a vast forest sprawled out between the imprisoned protagonist and the town. I see darkness. I see howling wind and pouring rain. I see …. Iron Maiden album covers (now there’s one band I never thought I’d mention in this blog series). I see Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado”.
And, I see the childhood Aurora model “The Forgotten Prisoner of Castle Mare” ( here ), which my lifelong friend, Phil, had finished and painted at the base of his cellar stairs, an eerie entry into the labyrinth beyond.
Phil’s Martin Avenue home was next-door to my family’s home in my early grade school years (we moved a few blocks away when I entered 6th grade). Our homes were in an idyllic New England neighborhood in the then-small town of Franklin, Massachusetts. Old stately Victorians, along with cottage-style and farmhouse-style homes surrounded us. Equally old and stately trees lined the avenues. There was plenty of woods. There were train tracks, which were well-traveled by my friends and I. And all of it was close to a classic Bedford-Falls-style downtown.
This was all quite bucolic, but such an environment could also play games with the wild and vivid imaginations of a young adolescent, especially in the fall. Large oak trees with their rustling leaves could take on a life of their own to a wandering mind. At night, heading home from any number of friend’s homes nearby, shadows danced about. The wind made human-like howling noises. What’s around that corner? The Forgotten Prisoner coming back to seek revenge on anyone who dared cross his path? I’m tellin’ ya, when I hear that driving Tony Garnier bass beat kicking off Bob Dylan’s “Cold Irons Bound”, it’s like the soundtrack to those spooky moments.
It was during one of those Autumn nights in our home on Martin Ave, just before Halloween, when my parents and their closest hometown friends, the Rappa’s, gathered all their kids (along with Phil and another neighbor friend, Jeff) down into the cellar. We sat in a circle. Not soon after, the lights went out, excepting for a candle which flickered on a small table beside Mr. Rappa, who commenced to reading an unfamiliar poem called “The Terrible Ghost Story” from a thick book of many short poems. It began “There was a man named Joshua Brown, who disappeared one night from town”. That caught our attention.
After each verse, Mr. Rappa hesitated in order that we could take in the gruesome details of a fictional murder victim being discovered one body part at a time (i.e. “as they searched the fields and lanes, they came upon the victim’s veins”). The breaks in the action were highlighted by our parents in two ways. The first of these were recommendations in the book, whereby a given ‘body part’ (food items, such as grapes for eyes) had been pre-prepared in baggies. These items would be passed around from one trembling, blinded, nervously-giggling kid to the next (the poem is at the end of this post, including the suggested food items in parenthesis…. you can probably guess ahead what item was used for those veins). The second highlight was much more impromptu; my Dad whacking the oil tank in the rear of the basement with a baseball bat after each verse, to produce a loud, horrifying GONG (we eventually got a kick out it).
This was a hugely successful coup by my parents and the Rappa’s, seeing as none of us kids would ever forget it. However, our Mom’s and Dad’s would have to deal with the immediate after effects for a spell. I for one didn’t sleep all that great that evening, or subsequent evenings for that matter, and I’m pretty sure the same went for my friends and siblings. My buddy, Jeff, had to head back to his home in the dark that evening, which was less than a block away (we could see his home from ours). I watched him out the window with my Mom. I have to say, I’ve never seen anyone move that fast before or since. The long-term effect was much more positive though. Moments like the one my parents and their friends created in that dark basement can be expansive to the imagination of a young mind; indelible, often in unforeseen ways. Counterintuitively, I believe it’s the sort of thing that can have you ultimately overcoming your fears.
It took me decades to track down “The Terrible Ghost Story” again, which I accomplished about 15 years ago. At the time, I preserved the poem in its entirety. However, for the life of me I could not find it one last time this week, in order that I could credit the author, who I do not recall. I apologize up front to the author (as well as anyone reading this whose name is Joshua Brown). If anybody can track down the poem’s author, I’d be grateful, and I will subsequently include it here.
As for “Cold Irons Bound”, it’s these same terrorized emotions that Bob Dylan tries to pull out of us in this song (how else could you interpret a song that begins with the lyrics “I’m beginning to hear voices, and there’s no one around”). Since I cannot find the original bass-driven version on line I’ll have to settle for this alternate take (I recommend the original though): Cold Irons Bound alternate take
Keep alert in the night air, folks. And be careful of what might be behind that large oak tree up ahead.
Boo!
- Pete
The Terrible
Ghost Story
There was a man named Joshua Brown
Who disappeared one night from town.
His friends with fearful thoughts were filled.
Where is he now? Has he been killed?
The proof they had right from the start.
They were almost sure when the found a part.
A part of Brown,you've soon to know
What they found was his big toe ( Have kids feel a piece of carrot)
It was too bad he had to die,
What they found next was his right eye? (grape)
Too bad he had to die so young
The next part found was Joshua's tongue.( a few slices of deli meat)
"Who done him in? The robbers band?"
They asked as they found Josh's hand ( wet glove filled with sand)
We must be sure: We must have proof!
Ah, Here's a clue! It's Josh's tooth. ( a wig or a small stone for tooth)
As they searched the fields and lanes,
They came upon the victim's veins. ( cold, cooked spaghetti)
They screamed, they showed their grief and pain,
What next they found was poor Josh's brain. (damp sponge)
They knew J. Brown was surely dead,
When they picked up his only head. (head of cabbage)
The ghosts will talk, the witches fly,
No one will speak. None saw him die.
Oh, who could be so cruelly mean,
And kill Josh Brown on Halloween!
There was a man named Joshua Brown
Who disappeared one night from town.
His friends with fearful thoughts were filled.
Where is he now? Has he been killed?
The proof they had right from the start.
They were almost sure when the found a part.
A part of Brown,you've soon to know
What they found was his big toe ( Have kids feel a piece of carrot)
It was too bad he had to die,
What they found next was his right eye? (grape)
Too bad he had to die so young
The next part found was Joshua's tongue.( a few slices of deli meat)
"Who done him in? The robbers band?"
They asked as they found Josh's hand ( wet glove filled with sand)
We must be sure: We must have proof!
Ah, Here's a clue! It's Josh's tooth. ( a wig or a small stone for tooth)
As they searched the fields and lanes,
They came upon the victim's veins. ( cold, cooked spaghetti)
They screamed, they showed their grief and pain,
What next they found was poor Josh's brain. (damp sponge)
They knew J. Brown was surely dead,
When they picked up his only head. (head of cabbage)
The ghosts will talk, the witches fly,
No one will speak. None saw him die.
Oh, who could be so cruelly mean,
And kill Josh Brown on Halloween!
Sunday, October 7, 2018
Master Blueprints # 37: "May You Always Know the Truth and See the Lights Surrounding You”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Forever Young”
Album: Planet Waves
Release Date: January 1974
Seemingly coincidental occurrences just keep piling up in this The Year of the Blueprint. This time around it was a musical mind-meld with my wife, Nancy. I’d started the week listening to Bob Dylan’s most recent album of original songs, 2012’s Tempest, with the usual intention of writing something related to it (the title track being a strong contender for a Blueprint choice, along with “Roll on John”). By Tuesday afternoon’s drive home from work however, I’d concluded that I was going to need more time with Tempest. Fortunately, I had a backup plan, seeing as one of Dylan’s most heartfelt songs, “Forever Young” had been playing in my head for weeks. As quick as you can say ‘cd switch’ I had its host album, Planet Waves, emanating through my car speakers, and for the remainder of the week I homed in on all things “Forever Young”.
Anyhow, I usually keep my evolving thoughts to myself as I’m formulating them, even from Nancy. I think it’s a creative process thing; a fear of writer’s block if you prematurely reveal your subject matter until its finalized. As has been the case for virtually every entry to date, no problem there. And so, you can imagine that I would be momentarily speechless when Nancy told me not soon after I made the disc switcheroo that she’d written a personal note to our son, Peter with the lyrics to “Forever Young” in it. Nancy had done this once before, for our daughter Charlotte as she was spreading her wings, moving into her own rental pad for the first time. Now it was Peter’s turn. But it had been four years since Nancy had written that letter to Charlotte, and so “Forever Young” had not been front and center in our daily spousal exchanges in quite some time. A memorable coincidence for sure (or perhaps more than that).
Nancy and I disagree on one major aspect to “Forever Young”. She likes the Rod Stewart cover version. I, of course, prefer the original ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Frj2CLGldC4 ). One thing that irks me about Stewarts cover: He and his cowriters, Jimmy Cregan and Kevin Savigar, mess quite a bit with the original lyrics (in their version, Cregan and Savigar are bookended between Bob Dylan and Stewart in credit order). In the annals of music covers, how often does this happen? Nancy insists the meaning is made clearer, and there certainly is truth to this (it’s Stewart & friends lyrics that Nancy wrote to Charlotte and Peter). Rod Stewart aims for simplicity and sentimentality. Perhaps it was his intention to open this Bob Dylan song to a broader audience, which clearly worked for Nancy. At its core, Dylan’s version (he not prone to sentimentality) aims for something a bit deeper and in turn somewhat more difficult to grasp. And yet, there’s a little voice gnawing at me: I can’t help but think that Rod Stewart was also in some ways trying to ‘rewrite’ history.
Regardless, I’d like to focus on the commonality of Nancy and my love for this song, which is that both versions were written with sons and daughters in mind. Indeed, no matter how you slice it “Forever Young” has universal parental appeal. I will add here my slice to the Bob Dylan, Rod Stewart and Nancy Steeves pie. I’ll to do this by breaking up the original version into its three stanzas, following up each with my own commentary, both personal and universal – along with a little Dylanology sprinkled in for you Bob Dylan fans.
Here’s stanza number one:
“May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young”
One term that people tend to use a lot these days when someone in their lives is graced with good fortune is “how lucky you are”. I’m much more inclined to say, “you are blessed’. Luck sounds random, does it not? On the other hand, if you are blessed, it means you followed your true path and made something work within that context. Wishes coming true go hand in hand. What is it to be blessed? Daughter Charlotte, being patient enough over the course of days in the rain forest to finally catch a rare sighting of a family of resplendent quetzals fluttering overhead in the wilds of Panama. That’s blessed. Our son Peter’s understanding of honesty and true friendship and an uncanny ability to see b.s. the moment he hears it. Again, blessed.
The next set of lines are deep. “May you always do for others” can have you contemplating that helping others is core to a healthy life; that giving of oneself is what makes you truly happy. Think of the alternative…. selfishness. Anyone with children advises them to avoid that vice. Dylan simply flips this sort of advice on its head: Positive vs negative reinforcement in lyrical form. The real deep line, however, is the follow-up “and let others do for you”. It may be as simple as letting someone pay for the meal out at a nice restaurant, or as heavy as knowing when to be humble, admitting when you need guidance. There are those who tend to think that if they allow these things to happen they will forever be indebted to those who ‘did for them’. ‘Let it be’ I say to my son and daughter. All of us will have our time to lead and to guide. To get there you first need to learn the right way to follow.
This feeds into that 3rd part of the first stanza about ladders, stars, and rungs, with the rungs being the most thought-provoking of these metaphors. In other words, earn your keep every step of the way. Pay attention to the details as you forge along your path. Listen more than talk. Don’t step on others as you blaze that trail. I’m reminded of a line in Bob Dylan’s “Foot of Pride”, which goes “You know what they say about bein’ nice to the right people on the way up. Sooner or later you are gonna meet them comin’ down”. Again though, “Forever Young” and its parental declarations are about positive – not negative – reinforcement. One of the great things about Charlotte and Peter’s generation (both of them born in the 90s) is that they seem to understand all this ‘every rung’ stuff (in this day and age, they have to). And so, I look at reflecting on these words of wisdom as simply a good way for them to know that we their parents know this too.
One additional comment about the beginning of “Forever Young” for you Dylanologists. The song starts off with a western guitar style (Robbie Robertson I’m sure) that is reminiscent of Dylan’s prior album Pat Garret & Billy the Kid. I’ve been noticing this about Dylan’s discography. There’s a tiny bit of overlap in musical style from one album to the next, with this one being the most pleasantly surprising. I welcome your thoughts.
On to the second stanza:
“May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the light surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young”
To be righteous is to not compromise your convictions. When you do something right, people see it and feel it. And when you do things right on a regular basis, many of us see and sense that you are someone pleasing to God. A true person’s private moments are just as righteous as their public ones. In your journey through life you will meet those who will have a strong effect on you in amazingly positive ways. I think it no coincidence that they have found you and you have found them. Foster these relationships. Don’t let them wither on the vine.
If you are on the right path, you will know it. It’s all about seeing that ‘light surrounding you’ that Bob Dylan mentions (as I typed these words, I thought of that early-week flirtation with “Roll on John” – an ode to John Lennon – and the line in the refrain “you shined so bright”). There will be moments when you just know there are greater forces at work, and that you are part of a much bigger plan which you may not fully understand (I most certainly don’t). These moments occur when you follow the righteous path. Savor them, so that you can feed on the memory of these moments when your path forward inevitably becomes difficult to discern or takes a rocky turn for the worse.
A second Dylanology footnote: I find it interesting that Bob Dylan wrote “Forever Young” during his third and final stint with The Band (# 1 being the boo-bird tours of 1965-66 and # 2 being the Big Pink summer of ’67). He very likely saw the struggles several of the Band’s members were going through with drugs and alcohol. The importance of this song to Dylan in this context would be revealed in his penultimate tribute to them as his closing number for the Band’s Last Waltz.
As for the 3rd part to that 2nd stanza above, there will always be adversity. These are the moments when you get to see what you are made of. Sometimes you must cut the adversity off at the knees. Sometimes you must confront it as soon as it plays out. Sometimes you must be patient and play a bit of chess. Always pray and ponder. Whatever it takes be sure to do your best to approach the situation with all the integrity you can muster. Try to not let fear get in the way. Faith is the best way to combat fear.
The third and final stanza goes:
“May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young”
It’s natural that others will be impressed when they see you use your hands and feet in productive ways, be it building, cooking, writing, knitting, painting, running, hiking, swimming, exploring, performing. Resist idleness; the temptations of sloth. There is always need for relaxation, but even when sitting in front of the T.V. you can keep busy in one capacity or another (for example, I like to write these blog entries while sporting events blare in the background).
Change is bound to happen. It will be up to you to decide whether that change is good for you and others, or not so. Sometimes you will be signaled out if you don’t conform to changes to the norm. Stick to your guns. Often that norm loops right back again. It may take a while but be willing to stick it out. If you feel strongly about your position don’t waver. We all have a little rebellious independent spirit in us. Use it every so often. You may find yourself amazed at how it all plays out in the long run. On the flip side, you may be at the heart of change, driving it. A strong foundation helps on this side of the fence too. Others will jump on board. It can be very exciting, particularly when you know you are on to something…. something good.
Dylanology footnote number three: The Band’s unique chugging style kicks in as “Forever Young” winds down, driven by Rick Danko’s bass and Levon Helm’s drumming. Bob Dylan must have found this so alluring, which is why he returned to these guys more than any other musicians in his career. Think about everyone Dylan has worked with: Robert Hunter, Joan Baez, Mick Taylor, Jerry Wexler, Mark Knopfler, Robbie Shakespeare, Sly Dunbar, Mark Bloomfield, Scarlet Rivera, Al Kooper, Mick Ronson, Stevie-Ray Vaughn, George Harrison, Daniel Lanois, T-Bone Burnett, Ronnie Wood, the list goes on. Still, it was this one-of-a-kind band, The Band – Robbie Robertson, Levon Helm, Richard Manuel, Rick Danko, and Garth Hudson - who Dylan found himself most strongly affiliated with, which is reflected in the album covers he painted for “Music From Big Pink” and “Planet Waves”, both of which show that Dylan sorta felt like he was part of this crew.
Bob Dylan closes the lyrical portion of “Forever Young" with “May your heart always be joyful. May your song always be sung”. I was talking with Charlotte & Peter’s Grandma this morning as I do every Sunday. Mom mentioned to me that she and my Dad were out with friends this past week for dinner, one of them being Dad’s best friend (and Best Man) from his youth, who leaned over to Mom during dinner and asked, “how is it that Pete is always so happy and full of life?”. Mom responded in her subtle, unassuming way that it’s love and faith, with the connotation that the faith part is oh-so important. I’ve been blessed to see my Dad clairvoyantly in this regard. As for your song always being sung, well of course it’s a metaphor for most of us, but it’s the one line that in my mind hits closest to home with Mr. Bob Dylan. The man who wrote “Lay Down Your Weary Tune” early in his career will never have to be concerned with having to do so with his own music. His song will always be sung.
Yours can too.
- Pete (Dad)
Song: “Forever Young”
Album: Planet Waves
Release Date: January 1974
Seemingly coincidental occurrences just keep piling up in this The Year of the Blueprint. This time around it was a musical mind-meld with my wife, Nancy. I’d started the week listening to Bob Dylan’s most recent album of original songs, 2012’s Tempest, with the usual intention of writing something related to it (the title track being a strong contender for a Blueprint choice, along with “Roll on John”). By Tuesday afternoon’s drive home from work however, I’d concluded that I was going to need more time with Tempest. Fortunately, I had a backup plan, seeing as one of Dylan’s most heartfelt songs, “Forever Young” had been playing in my head for weeks. As quick as you can say ‘cd switch’ I had its host album, Planet Waves, emanating through my car speakers, and for the remainder of the week I homed in on all things “Forever Young”.
Anyhow, I usually keep my evolving thoughts to myself as I’m formulating them, even from Nancy. I think it’s a creative process thing; a fear of writer’s block if you prematurely reveal your subject matter until its finalized. As has been the case for virtually every entry to date, no problem there. And so, you can imagine that I would be momentarily speechless when Nancy told me not soon after I made the disc switcheroo that she’d written a personal note to our son, Peter with the lyrics to “Forever Young” in it. Nancy had done this once before, for our daughter Charlotte as she was spreading her wings, moving into her own rental pad for the first time. Now it was Peter’s turn. But it had been four years since Nancy had written that letter to Charlotte, and so “Forever Young” had not been front and center in our daily spousal exchanges in quite some time. A memorable coincidence for sure (or perhaps more than that).
Nancy and I disagree on one major aspect to “Forever Young”. She likes the Rod Stewart cover version. I, of course, prefer the original ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Frj2CLGldC4 ). One thing that irks me about Stewarts cover: He and his cowriters, Jimmy Cregan and Kevin Savigar, mess quite a bit with the original lyrics (in their version, Cregan and Savigar are bookended between Bob Dylan and Stewart in credit order). In the annals of music covers, how often does this happen? Nancy insists the meaning is made clearer, and there certainly is truth to this (it’s Stewart & friends lyrics that Nancy wrote to Charlotte and Peter). Rod Stewart aims for simplicity and sentimentality. Perhaps it was his intention to open this Bob Dylan song to a broader audience, which clearly worked for Nancy. At its core, Dylan’s version (he not prone to sentimentality) aims for something a bit deeper and in turn somewhat more difficult to grasp. And yet, there’s a little voice gnawing at me: I can’t help but think that Rod Stewart was also in some ways trying to ‘rewrite’ history.
Regardless, I’d like to focus on the commonality of Nancy and my love for this song, which is that both versions were written with sons and daughters in mind. Indeed, no matter how you slice it “Forever Young” has universal parental appeal. I will add here my slice to the Bob Dylan, Rod Stewart and Nancy Steeves pie. I’ll to do this by breaking up the original version into its three stanzas, following up each with my own commentary, both personal and universal – along with a little Dylanology sprinkled in for you Bob Dylan fans.
Here’s stanza number one:
“May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young”
One term that people tend to use a lot these days when someone in their lives is graced with good fortune is “how lucky you are”. I’m much more inclined to say, “you are blessed’. Luck sounds random, does it not? On the other hand, if you are blessed, it means you followed your true path and made something work within that context. Wishes coming true go hand in hand. What is it to be blessed? Daughter Charlotte, being patient enough over the course of days in the rain forest to finally catch a rare sighting of a family of resplendent quetzals fluttering overhead in the wilds of Panama. That’s blessed. Our son Peter’s understanding of honesty and true friendship and an uncanny ability to see b.s. the moment he hears it. Again, blessed.
The next set of lines are deep. “May you always do for others” can have you contemplating that helping others is core to a healthy life; that giving of oneself is what makes you truly happy. Think of the alternative…. selfishness. Anyone with children advises them to avoid that vice. Dylan simply flips this sort of advice on its head: Positive vs negative reinforcement in lyrical form. The real deep line, however, is the follow-up “and let others do for you”. It may be as simple as letting someone pay for the meal out at a nice restaurant, or as heavy as knowing when to be humble, admitting when you need guidance. There are those who tend to think that if they allow these things to happen they will forever be indebted to those who ‘did for them’. ‘Let it be’ I say to my son and daughter. All of us will have our time to lead and to guide. To get there you first need to learn the right way to follow.
This feeds into that 3rd part of the first stanza about ladders, stars, and rungs, with the rungs being the most thought-provoking of these metaphors. In other words, earn your keep every step of the way. Pay attention to the details as you forge along your path. Listen more than talk. Don’t step on others as you blaze that trail. I’m reminded of a line in Bob Dylan’s “Foot of Pride”, which goes “You know what they say about bein’ nice to the right people on the way up. Sooner or later you are gonna meet them comin’ down”. Again though, “Forever Young” and its parental declarations are about positive – not negative – reinforcement. One of the great things about Charlotte and Peter’s generation (both of them born in the 90s) is that they seem to understand all this ‘every rung’ stuff (in this day and age, they have to). And so, I look at reflecting on these words of wisdom as simply a good way for them to know that we their parents know this too.
One additional comment about the beginning of “Forever Young” for you Dylanologists. The song starts off with a western guitar style (Robbie Robertson I’m sure) that is reminiscent of Dylan’s prior album Pat Garret & Billy the Kid. I’ve been noticing this about Dylan’s discography. There’s a tiny bit of overlap in musical style from one album to the next, with this one being the most pleasantly surprising. I welcome your thoughts.
On to the second stanza:
“May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the light surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young”
To be righteous is to not compromise your convictions. When you do something right, people see it and feel it. And when you do things right on a regular basis, many of us see and sense that you are someone pleasing to God. A true person’s private moments are just as righteous as their public ones. In your journey through life you will meet those who will have a strong effect on you in amazingly positive ways. I think it no coincidence that they have found you and you have found them. Foster these relationships. Don’t let them wither on the vine.
If you are on the right path, you will know it. It’s all about seeing that ‘light surrounding you’ that Bob Dylan mentions (as I typed these words, I thought of that early-week flirtation with “Roll on John” – an ode to John Lennon – and the line in the refrain “you shined so bright”). There will be moments when you just know there are greater forces at work, and that you are part of a much bigger plan which you may not fully understand (I most certainly don’t). These moments occur when you follow the righteous path. Savor them, so that you can feed on the memory of these moments when your path forward inevitably becomes difficult to discern or takes a rocky turn for the worse.
A second Dylanology footnote: I find it interesting that Bob Dylan wrote “Forever Young” during his third and final stint with The Band (# 1 being the boo-bird tours of 1965-66 and # 2 being the Big Pink summer of ’67). He very likely saw the struggles several of the Band’s members were going through with drugs and alcohol. The importance of this song to Dylan in this context would be revealed in his penultimate tribute to them as his closing number for the Band’s Last Waltz.
As for the 3rd part to that 2nd stanza above, there will always be adversity. These are the moments when you get to see what you are made of. Sometimes you must cut the adversity off at the knees. Sometimes you must confront it as soon as it plays out. Sometimes you must be patient and play a bit of chess. Always pray and ponder. Whatever it takes be sure to do your best to approach the situation with all the integrity you can muster. Try to not let fear get in the way. Faith is the best way to combat fear.
The third and final stanza goes:
“May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
May you stay forever young”
It’s natural that others will be impressed when they see you use your hands and feet in productive ways, be it building, cooking, writing, knitting, painting, running, hiking, swimming, exploring, performing. Resist idleness; the temptations of sloth. There is always need for relaxation, but even when sitting in front of the T.V. you can keep busy in one capacity or another (for example, I like to write these blog entries while sporting events blare in the background).
Change is bound to happen. It will be up to you to decide whether that change is good for you and others, or not so. Sometimes you will be signaled out if you don’t conform to changes to the norm. Stick to your guns. Often that norm loops right back again. It may take a while but be willing to stick it out. If you feel strongly about your position don’t waver. We all have a little rebellious independent spirit in us. Use it every so often. You may find yourself amazed at how it all plays out in the long run. On the flip side, you may be at the heart of change, driving it. A strong foundation helps on this side of the fence too. Others will jump on board. It can be very exciting, particularly when you know you are on to something…. something good.
Dylanology footnote number three: The Band’s unique chugging style kicks in as “Forever Young” winds down, driven by Rick Danko’s bass and Levon Helm’s drumming. Bob Dylan must have found this so alluring, which is why he returned to these guys more than any other musicians in his career. Think about everyone Dylan has worked with: Robert Hunter, Joan Baez, Mick Taylor, Jerry Wexler, Mark Knopfler, Robbie Shakespeare, Sly Dunbar, Mark Bloomfield, Scarlet Rivera, Al Kooper, Mick Ronson, Stevie-Ray Vaughn, George Harrison, Daniel Lanois, T-Bone Burnett, Ronnie Wood, the list goes on. Still, it was this one-of-a-kind band, The Band – Robbie Robertson, Levon Helm, Richard Manuel, Rick Danko, and Garth Hudson - who Dylan found himself most strongly affiliated with, which is reflected in the album covers he painted for “Music From Big Pink” and “Planet Waves”, both of which show that Dylan sorta felt like he was part of this crew.
Bob Dylan closes the lyrical portion of “Forever Young" with “May your heart always be joyful. May your song always be sung”. I was talking with Charlotte & Peter’s Grandma this morning as I do every Sunday. Mom mentioned to me that she and my Dad were out with friends this past week for dinner, one of them being Dad’s best friend (and Best Man) from his youth, who leaned over to Mom during dinner and asked, “how is it that Pete is always so happy and full of life?”. Mom responded in her subtle, unassuming way that it’s love and faith, with the connotation that the faith part is oh-so important. I’ve been blessed to see my Dad clairvoyantly in this regard. As for your song always being sung, well of course it’s a metaphor for most of us, but it’s the one line that in my mind hits closest to home with Mr. Bob Dylan. The man who wrote “Lay Down Your Weary Tune” early in his career will never have to be concerned with having to do so with his own music. His song will always be sung.
Yours can too.
- Pete (Dad)
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