(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Just Like a
Woman”
Album: Blonde on Blonde
Release Date: June,
1966
Note: This is the 2 of 2
conclusion of the last write up (Master Blueprint # 7). If you have not read the introduction to that
entry, read it first before reading on here, otherwise a full connection with
this entry will escape you ( http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2018/02/master-blueprints-7-struck-down-by.html ).
Carrying on now with my top 10 covers of the Bob Dylan The 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration at
Madison Square Garden, New York City, October 16, 1992. # 10 up to # 6 were
reviewed in that 1 of 2 link above. Here
I tackle the top 5, working my way up to # 1:
# 5. “Mr. Tambourine Man”
sung by Roger McGuinn, Tom Petty, and the Heartbreakers ( http://www.dailymotion.com/video/ximopy ) . I think I’ll simply
paraphrase here on a paragraph from my Master Blueprints # 1 entry ( http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2018/01/master-blueprints-1-magic-swirlin-ship.html ), which was written with this song in mind:
“I recall as I listened to it thinking at the time that Roger
McGuinn and Tom Petty both had in mind Dylan himself as they sang the
lyrics. Near the end of the magical
rendition of this song, Tom Petty catches McGuinn’s eye and offers a knowing
wink. At that moment, I felt a kinship
with these musicians. A common sense of
wonder in relation to the man they were honoring, not only through a song
written by him, but now being interpreted as also being about him”.
Not much more needs to be said other than to suggest reading that
fist Master Blueprint entry, inspired by the beauty that is “Mr. Tambourine
Man”.
Ok, no more pushing folks off to other entries.
#4. “I’ll Be Your Baby
Tonight”, sung by Kris Kristofferson ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PlvN2nr5MZw ). I’ve rarely seen a performer
so elated singing as Kris Kristofferson is here. Other musicians on the stage included Willie
Nelson (who did an admirable job just prior with “What Was It You Wanted”) and
Don Was on bass, who had produced Bob Dylan’s then-most recent studio album Under the Red Sky (I once read a review
of those sessions where one of the musicianS who was there was reflecting on Don
Was’ fascination in finally having a change to work with Bob Dylan, at one time
asking him “So, Bob, did you ever wonder,
y’know: ‘Why me?’”, and getting no reply).
A quick listen and one could easily conclude that “I’ll Be Your
Baby Tonight” is a simple love song. But
nothing is simple with Bob Dylan. Years
ago I interpreted this song as being from the perspective of an infant, singing
to a parent (hmmm….I’ll add a grandparent to that short list). Others have concluded this too, because
subsequently I read a gratifying Dylan reply to an interviewer, stating that he
supposed it could be construed that way (that’s about as good as you are going
to get from him).
So I’m going to run with
that, as I am sure this angle was on Kristofferson’s mind too. His elation is the pure joy emanating from
the memory and perspective of a man blessed to have been a father, as I believe
Kristofferson (and of course Bob Dylan) was.
Picture a young Dad, any young Dad, seemingly after a weary, long day at
work. I mean, my goodness, from that
perspective there is just no beating the line “Kick your shoes off. Do not fear.
Bring that bottle over here. I’ll be your baby tonight”…...baby
bottle that is.
Yes, it’s no wonder Kris Kristofferson was on such a high. If you leave a song up for interpretation, as
Bob Dylan always does, it must be so much fun to figure it out for yourself,
and then go out and perform it, knowing you’ve got the inside scoop.
# 3. “License to Kill”,
sung by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CEfNY02n5E ). You’d think there would
be nothing that could top Kristofferson’s performance, but in my opinion there
were three such instances. # 3 on the
list is this (see link above) killer rendition of “License to Kill” covered by
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, a song about the misinformation that can fill
a man’s mind, and a woman’s lament to be unable to do anything about it. It’s a brave and insightful song for a man to
write, and should put no doubt in any equal-rights-minded woman that Bob Dylan
has their back (including the Boston waitress who confronts Dylan in an
incredibly summarized exchange, which can be heard on the song/novella that is
“Highlands” off of Time Out of Mind). One could also easily envision the “woman” in
the song to be any peacemaker, giving “License to Kill” some affiliation with
“Watching the River Flow”, which was the focus-song for Master Blueprints # 6.
Anyhow, after a warm greeting to the crowd, Tom Petty’s smile turns into
something completely different, which stays with him for the entirety of his intense
performance. Mike Campbell adds a brilliant lead guitar during the instrumental
bridge near the end. The lyrics are poignant and, in comparison to many of Bob
Dylan’s songs, relatively easy to interpret.
With that said, if you have never heard this number off of Infidels (or even if you have) give it a
listen: “License to Kill” is always worthy
of further contemplation.
# 2. “Seven Days”, sung by
Ronnie Wood ( https://rutube.ru/video/9f7fd5902d1c72e4d3a6d57d38440814/ ). First off, I love that
Ronnie Wood got his own slot at the Dylan 30th; he and Ringo Starr, often there
for the party at these mega rock events over the years, but consigned to only
getting on stage for the end-of-show jam fests (think The Last Waltz). Not so
here, Ronnie Wood delivering the goods in this gem of a rarity, which he
covered on his 1979 album Gimme Some Neck
(there are perks to being a beer connoisseur buddy with Bob Dylan). Recently I’ve been reading this song as being
about a son’s reunion with his long lost mother.
Oh, and did I say jam? Yeah,
well, I’ve rarely enjoyed one as much as the magnificently drawn-out
instrumental bridge that plays out here.
Ronnie Wood comes across as a well-versed conductor, spontaneous to
boot, pointing to various members of the Booker T and the MGs band to take lead
during the jam. At one moment, at the
2:55 mark of the link above, Wood appears so zoned in as he backs away from
Booker T, that I can’t help but think he’s as close to vaporizing into a big
ball of music as anyone who has ever played in a band. G.E. Smith, the normal conductor for much of
the evening, adapts masterfully on the fly, working closely with the rhythm
section (check out G.E. when Ronnie calls out Booker T to take the 2nd
lead transition during the jam). The
fourth and final lead (back to Ronnie Wood) is a classic moment too, with Steve
Cropper aping Wood’s chords 2 seconds behind, like only a seasoned professional
could.
My number 2 and number 1 choices were performed back to back that
magical evening; a solid one-two punch.
Number 1 you ask? …….
# 1. “Just Like a Woman”,
sung by Richie Havens ( https://vimeo.com/198166747 ). My sister Amy is in the
know on this one; the most transcendent moment in the concert as far as I am
concerned. This Richie Havens’ performance
of “Just Like a Woman” swung wide open for me the door to connecting with the
depth of the beauty in this song, and is that not the intention of any
musician, whether singing their own song or someone else’s? To blow away the crowd, not just with the
musical element, but with the narrative and reflective one too? It all adds up to a strong emotional bond
when the stars align.
When a casual listener thinks of Bob Dylan I believe they relate
to him mostly as a folk singer, or a protest singer, or going electric, or his
faith journey, or contributing to the weaving of the American narrative. One normally does not associate him with love
songs. But when you dive into Dylan’s
music, you realize that love - and love loss - are the most prominent sources
for his creative inspirations. In turn,
when you have someone with the prolific abilities of a Bob Dylan who is willing
to open up in this way, you can make some pretty profound connections to your
own life experience in relation to this the sweetest – and most painful - of
all feelings.
“Just Like a Woman” comes across to me as a two part account of a
relationship achingly nearing its end.
The first 2 verses focus on the woman and her delicate state of mind at
the time of the break up. As I listened
to Richie Havens cover this week, I thought of the Counting Crows song “Round
Here”, which I now believe was at least partly inspired by “Just Like a Woman” (heck, on the same album - the solid and well
balanced August and Everything After –
the Counting Crows even mention Bob Dylan in the lyrics to “Mr. Jones“). The second two verses, from the man’s view,
are even more painful. There’s not a
wasted word in these lyrics, each line making clearer that the songwriter is
dealing with heavy heartache. But at the
same time, there is a tenderness and a universality that underlies the entire
song, lifting it from the ashes.
I am grateful to have attended a Richie Havens concert, and one of
the big take home messages I got from that show was the buildup. Havens was slow out of the gate in terms of
enthusiasm when Nancy and I saw him, but he knew how to work a crowd, and
before long we were all caught up the aura of his musical tapestry. By the end the entire crowd was
enraptured. The amazing thing about
Richie Havens’ performance at the Dylan 30th was that he took that
skill for building up a concert and condensed it into one song. Watch that buildup play out in the link. It’s more than talent. It’s genuine empathy.
Well, that’s my Bob Dylan
The 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration top 10 list. Honorable mentions include George Thorogood singing
“Wanted Man” (what a surprise that was, and it didn’t even make the cd release),
The Band singing “When I Paint My
Masterpiece”, and Neil Young’s cover of “All Along the Watchtower”.
- Pete
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Sunday, February 18, 2018
Master Blueprints # 7: “You Know What They Say About Bein' Nice to the Right People on the Way Up, Sooner or Later You Gonna Meet Them Comin' Down”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Foot of Pride”
Album: Unreleased from the Infidels sessions
Release Date: October, 1983
Out of the gate for this series, I mentioned an early breakthrough I made with Bob Dylan’s music, listening to the Rolling Thunder Review version of “Shelter from the Storm” off of the live Hard Rain album. That was back in the mid-80s. There were a number of leaps forward not long after that, a significant one being the release of Oh Mercy in 1989 (I’ve yet to tackle a song from that album, but this is imminent). One particularly large leap was made several years later while watching a live simulcast of Bob Dylan: The 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration at my good friend Jeff’s apartment. The actual event, a tribute show, took place at Madison Square Garden in New York City that same evening; October 16, 1992.
As I’ve mentioned before, Bob Dylan gets covered more than any other musician I know…. by a country mile. I’ve also mentioned that the best Bob Dylan covers are those where a musician finds a song that suits his/her style. There is something in his vast catalog for everyone, and I’ve always believed this availability of his music to be intentional on his part (again, it’s why I call the series Master Blueprints). This all played out brilliantly in the 30th Anniversary Concert. Virtually every musician who performed that night played a song suitable for them.
What an incredible night of music and gathering of musicians that was (I could even feel the vibes via simulcast, and I’ve been to many concerts in my lifetime - where the real vibes preside). If you ask me it was right up there with Woodstock, Monterey, Live Aid and the 2016 “Desert Trip” concert for star power and talent. I recall Eddie Vedder stating in a pre-concert interview that he felt as if he were hanging with seven of the twelve apostles. The set list was pretty incredible too: A perfect cross section of songs from every phase of Bob Dylan’s songwriting career; the choices of deep cuts and hits balancing out nicely. What an honor it must have been for Dylan to get such a profound tribute, and at a relatively young age (51).
There were a few marquee performers that night who got to perform 2 songs including Neil Young, George Harrison, Eric Clapton, John Mellencamp, Tom Petty and the man of honor himself. All were memorable, but it was primarily a handful of the one-off acts who stole the show (as well as Petty, a marquee performer who truly rose to the occasion). As I watched and listened for the umpteenth time this week (but the first time in over a decade), I was glad to see my sense of wonder still persists (although it was tough to take in how many of these performers are no longer with us).
I’ve put together a personal top 10 list of the most stirring performances from this event below. I’ll be working my way from # 10 up to # 1, with commentary on each, including how the song worked so well for the musician who covered it. # 10 up to # 6 are in this entry. The top 5 are in the next.
# 10. “The Times They Are A-Changin’”, sung by Tracy Chapman (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCZWv5U5wJ4 ). Several young bucks covered Bob Dylan’s early protest songs in this show (including Vedder, who performed “Masters of War” quite admirably). Chapman gets the nod though. She sounds sincere and earnest here, not having the appearance of being starry eyed in the least. Politics was in the air on this evening, only 2 weeks away from a presidential election (Bill Clinton vs. George H.W. Bush). I had just turned 30 years old two months earlier and I remember the build-up to that election well (it was the first time in four attempts that I would end up voting for the winner, and unlike prior elections, I could feel victory in the air). The protest songs were fitting in my mind, and Chapman was classy in her delivery (alternatively, I felt Stevie Wonder was a bit over the top with his drawn-out, politically-charged introduction comments and subsequent rendition of “Blowin’ in the Wind”… one of the only energy drains of the evening). “The Times They Are A-Changin” has and will continue to endure the test of time.
# 9. “It Ain’t Me Babe”, sung by June Carter Cash and Johnny Cash ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=253pRcqSl1M ). Admittedly past their prime, but there is some beautiful passion and sincerity here, particularly in June Carter Cash’s singing the refrain. Today when I watch it, I think of Walk the Line, a fantastic movie that I have sat through on at least three occasions (more often I have just fast-forwarded to the classic Folsom State Prison scene at the end, one of my favorite movie moments of all time). After getting that insight into their life together (the movie coming out 13 years after the Dylan 30th event), the passion in June Carter Cash’s vocals now makes more sense.
In Walk the Line, the character of Johnny Cash (Joaquin Phoenix) comes across as doting in his endless advances toward June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), which was understandable: Cash was smitten. With all the issues Johnny Cash was dealing with (substance abuse, marriage break up) - which was not sugar coated in the movie – June Carter was rather measured in her response. So now when I listen to this performance, I get out of Johnny Cash’s singing the sense that he is respecting June Carter Cash’s rather stoic (albeit door ajar) reaction to his advances during their long courtship, and June Carter Cash is belting out how she dealt with him in reply. Yes, the lyrics to “It Ain’t Me Babe” reflects June Carter Cash’s approach to their relationship to a tee.
# 8 “Rainy Day Woman # 12 & 35”, sung by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8NocHFec8I ). It’s too bad I could only track down the audio here, because if there is any performance in this top 10 list where you get the full effect with the visual, it is this one. Here we see Tom Petty (a shocker of a passing this past year) and crew add a little fun to the mix (although virtually the entire event was exhilarating). Prior to watching Petty’s rendition, I’d been pretty ambivalent with this song. Now I get a big kick out of it, which I believe was Bob Dylan’s intention all along. Having toured with Dylan in 1986 - a rabble-rousing tour from the accounts I’ve read - Petty knew this as well as anybody. And boy does it come out on that Madison Square Garden stage. Indeed, no matter which way Bob Dylan turned when he wrote the song back in 1966 he likely had some form of mind altering substance shoved in his face. I envision an animated music video being dreamed up for this song someday. It will be a hoot.
# 7 “Highway 61 Revisited”, covered here by Johnny Winter ( http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xpdsck ). When Johnny Winter walked out on the stage I was transfixed. For a split second, I thought I was looking at Freddy Krueger! Was this guy going to start shooting lightning bolts out of his fingers at the crowd and bring the house down in a big ball of flame? I soon recovered my senses, with a bit of help from Johnny Winter’s Texan brother, Jeff, sitting in the chair next to me, who’d seen Winter on numerous occasions. But then Johnny Winter preceded to do just that! His performance, particularly his guitar playing, was the most on-the-edge, high flying moment in the show that evening. The fast pace of his playing and singing did such a great honor to “Highway 61 Revisited”, a truly bizarre tale of that middle of America Blues Highway, which generally winds along the Mississippi River from Dylan’s home State of Minnesota to New Orleans, Louisiana (I’ll have much more to say about this North/South blues linkage for Bob Dylan when I review some of the more conceptual elements from Time Out of Mind). The euphoric instrumental wrap up alone would have been worth the price of admission. This song is going to have to get its own Master Blueprint at some point, if only for the opening verse (I’ll leave those not in the know to either try to interpret Mr. Winter or find the lyrics).
# 6 “Foot of Pride”, covered here by Lou Reed ( https://ok.ru/video/96938101297 ). Probably the closest-to-perfection of the alignment of a Bob Dylan song and a musician covering it that I have ever heard (ok, I’ll grant that Jimi Hendrix cover of “All Along the Watchtower” is right up there too). Dylan has never performed this song live, despite having been on that truly never-ending ‘Never Ending’ tour for decades now, where he is always rolling out nuggets. This avoidance is understandable, however. “Foot of Pride” is HEAVY (even by Dylan standards), extremely complex in vocabulary (including the exclamations), and to date no one has aptly explained the meaning other than in the generality that the song is an indictment on significant chunks of humanity, personified in the lyrics by a handful of well justified character attacks (whether these seriously flawed characters be real or fictitious is of little consequence).
Regardless of all this, Lou Reed pulls the song off masterfully here, despite the use of teleprompters. In fact, I think his use of teleprompters actually adds to my fascination in how he nails it, seeing as Reed’s phrasing and his raw emotions are absolutely tuned in to the spirit of the original recording. In other words, Sweet Lou is nowhere near auto pilot. There are numerous examples of the unbridled force in this very rare live rendition of “Foot of Pride” including Reed’s delivery of one of my all-time favorite Bob Dylan lines: “You know what they say about bein’ nice to the right people on the way up. Sooner or later you gonna meet them comin’ down”. To this day I still recall the chilling feeling of hearing those lyrics for the first time at Jeff’s apartment that night (which was the first time I heard this at-the-time unreleased gem of a song from the 1983 Infidels sessions).
One other note about Lou Reed in relation to Dylan’s 30th: Before the show Reed was interviewed and he prophetically stated that Bob Dylan had not even done his best stuff yet. It was quite a statement, considering that so many contemporary musicians prove to be well past their prime by the time they hit middle age. What was to come for Bob Dylan over the next 20 years was much more in line with Lou Reed’s vision.
It’s a wrap. See you next entry for the top 5.
- Pete
Song: “Foot of Pride”
Album: Unreleased from the Infidels sessions
Release Date: October, 1983
Out of the gate for this series, I mentioned an early breakthrough I made with Bob Dylan’s music, listening to the Rolling Thunder Review version of “Shelter from the Storm” off of the live Hard Rain album. That was back in the mid-80s. There were a number of leaps forward not long after that, a significant one being the release of Oh Mercy in 1989 (I’ve yet to tackle a song from that album, but this is imminent). One particularly large leap was made several years later while watching a live simulcast of Bob Dylan: The 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration at my good friend Jeff’s apartment. The actual event, a tribute show, took place at Madison Square Garden in New York City that same evening; October 16, 1992.
As I’ve mentioned before, Bob Dylan gets covered more than any other musician I know…. by a country mile. I’ve also mentioned that the best Bob Dylan covers are those where a musician finds a song that suits his/her style. There is something in his vast catalog for everyone, and I’ve always believed this availability of his music to be intentional on his part (again, it’s why I call the series Master Blueprints). This all played out brilliantly in the 30th Anniversary Concert. Virtually every musician who performed that night played a song suitable for them.
What an incredible night of music and gathering of musicians that was (I could even feel the vibes via simulcast, and I’ve been to many concerts in my lifetime - where the real vibes preside). If you ask me it was right up there with Woodstock, Monterey, Live Aid and the 2016 “Desert Trip” concert for star power and talent. I recall Eddie Vedder stating in a pre-concert interview that he felt as if he were hanging with seven of the twelve apostles. The set list was pretty incredible too: A perfect cross section of songs from every phase of Bob Dylan’s songwriting career; the choices of deep cuts and hits balancing out nicely. What an honor it must have been for Dylan to get such a profound tribute, and at a relatively young age (51).
There were a few marquee performers that night who got to perform 2 songs including Neil Young, George Harrison, Eric Clapton, John Mellencamp, Tom Petty and the man of honor himself. All were memorable, but it was primarily a handful of the one-off acts who stole the show (as well as Petty, a marquee performer who truly rose to the occasion). As I watched and listened for the umpteenth time this week (but the first time in over a decade), I was glad to see my sense of wonder still persists (although it was tough to take in how many of these performers are no longer with us).
I’ve put together a personal top 10 list of the most stirring performances from this event below. I’ll be working my way from # 10 up to # 1, with commentary on each, including how the song worked so well for the musician who covered it. # 10 up to # 6 are in this entry. The top 5 are in the next.
# 10. “The Times They Are A-Changin’”, sung by Tracy Chapman (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCZWv5U5wJ4 ). Several young bucks covered Bob Dylan’s early protest songs in this show (including Vedder, who performed “Masters of War” quite admirably). Chapman gets the nod though. She sounds sincere and earnest here, not having the appearance of being starry eyed in the least. Politics was in the air on this evening, only 2 weeks away from a presidential election (Bill Clinton vs. George H.W. Bush). I had just turned 30 years old two months earlier and I remember the build-up to that election well (it was the first time in four attempts that I would end up voting for the winner, and unlike prior elections, I could feel victory in the air). The protest songs were fitting in my mind, and Chapman was classy in her delivery (alternatively, I felt Stevie Wonder was a bit over the top with his drawn-out, politically-charged introduction comments and subsequent rendition of “Blowin’ in the Wind”… one of the only energy drains of the evening). “The Times They Are A-Changin” has and will continue to endure the test of time.
# 9. “It Ain’t Me Babe”, sung by June Carter Cash and Johnny Cash ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=253pRcqSl1M ). Admittedly past their prime, but there is some beautiful passion and sincerity here, particularly in June Carter Cash’s singing the refrain. Today when I watch it, I think of Walk the Line, a fantastic movie that I have sat through on at least three occasions (more often I have just fast-forwarded to the classic Folsom State Prison scene at the end, one of my favorite movie moments of all time). After getting that insight into their life together (the movie coming out 13 years after the Dylan 30th event), the passion in June Carter Cash’s vocals now makes more sense.
In Walk the Line, the character of Johnny Cash (Joaquin Phoenix) comes across as doting in his endless advances toward June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), which was understandable: Cash was smitten. With all the issues Johnny Cash was dealing with (substance abuse, marriage break up) - which was not sugar coated in the movie – June Carter was rather measured in her response. So now when I listen to this performance, I get out of Johnny Cash’s singing the sense that he is respecting June Carter Cash’s rather stoic (albeit door ajar) reaction to his advances during their long courtship, and June Carter Cash is belting out how she dealt with him in reply. Yes, the lyrics to “It Ain’t Me Babe” reflects June Carter Cash’s approach to their relationship to a tee.
# 8 “Rainy Day Woman # 12 & 35”, sung by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8NocHFec8I ). It’s too bad I could only track down the audio here, because if there is any performance in this top 10 list where you get the full effect with the visual, it is this one. Here we see Tom Petty (a shocker of a passing this past year) and crew add a little fun to the mix (although virtually the entire event was exhilarating). Prior to watching Petty’s rendition, I’d been pretty ambivalent with this song. Now I get a big kick out of it, which I believe was Bob Dylan’s intention all along. Having toured with Dylan in 1986 - a rabble-rousing tour from the accounts I’ve read - Petty knew this as well as anybody. And boy does it come out on that Madison Square Garden stage. Indeed, no matter which way Bob Dylan turned when he wrote the song back in 1966 he likely had some form of mind altering substance shoved in his face. I envision an animated music video being dreamed up for this song someday. It will be a hoot.
# 7 “Highway 61 Revisited”, covered here by Johnny Winter ( http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xpdsck ). When Johnny Winter walked out on the stage I was transfixed. For a split second, I thought I was looking at Freddy Krueger! Was this guy going to start shooting lightning bolts out of his fingers at the crowd and bring the house down in a big ball of flame? I soon recovered my senses, with a bit of help from Johnny Winter’s Texan brother, Jeff, sitting in the chair next to me, who’d seen Winter on numerous occasions. But then Johnny Winter preceded to do just that! His performance, particularly his guitar playing, was the most on-the-edge, high flying moment in the show that evening. The fast pace of his playing and singing did such a great honor to “Highway 61 Revisited”, a truly bizarre tale of that middle of America Blues Highway, which generally winds along the Mississippi River from Dylan’s home State of Minnesota to New Orleans, Louisiana (I’ll have much more to say about this North/South blues linkage for Bob Dylan when I review some of the more conceptual elements from Time Out of Mind). The euphoric instrumental wrap up alone would have been worth the price of admission. This song is going to have to get its own Master Blueprint at some point, if only for the opening verse (I’ll leave those not in the know to either try to interpret Mr. Winter or find the lyrics).
# 6 “Foot of Pride”, covered here by Lou Reed ( https://ok.ru/video/96938101297 ). Probably the closest-to-perfection of the alignment of a Bob Dylan song and a musician covering it that I have ever heard (ok, I’ll grant that Jimi Hendrix cover of “All Along the Watchtower” is right up there too). Dylan has never performed this song live, despite having been on that truly never-ending ‘Never Ending’ tour for decades now, where he is always rolling out nuggets. This avoidance is understandable, however. “Foot of Pride” is HEAVY (even by Dylan standards), extremely complex in vocabulary (including the exclamations), and to date no one has aptly explained the meaning other than in the generality that the song is an indictment on significant chunks of humanity, personified in the lyrics by a handful of well justified character attacks (whether these seriously flawed characters be real or fictitious is of little consequence).
Regardless of all this, Lou Reed pulls the song off masterfully here, despite the use of teleprompters. In fact, I think his use of teleprompters actually adds to my fascination in how he nails it, seeing as Reed’s phrasing and his raw emotions are absolutely tuned in to the spirit of the original recording. In other words, Sweet Lou is nowhere near auto pilot. There are numerous examples of the unbridled force in this very rare live rendition of “Foot of Pride” including Reed’s delivery of one of my all-time favorite Bob Dylan lines: “You know what they say about bein’ nice to the right people on the way up. Sooner or later you gonna meet them comin’ down”. To this day I still recall the chilling feeling of hearing those lyrics for the first time at Jeff’s apartment that night (which was the first time I heard this at-the-time unreleased gem of a song from the 1983 Infidels sessions).
One other note about Lou Reed in relation to Dylan’s 30th: Before the show Reed was interviewed and he prophetically stated that Bob Dylan had not even done his best stuff yet. It was quite a statement, considering that so many contemporary musicians prove to be well past their prime by the time they hit middle age. What was to come for Bob Dylan over the next 20 years was much more in line with Lou Reed’s vision.
It’s a wrap. See you next entry for the top 5.
- Pete
Sunday, February 11, 2018
Master Blueprints # 6: "People Disagreeing On All Just About Everything, Yeah, Makes You Stop and Wonder Why, Why Only Yesterday I Saw Somebody on the Street Who Just Couldn't Help But Cry"
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Watching the River Flow”
Album: Released as a single
Release Date: June, 1971
My office walls are adorned with a number of the masterly art-works of my daughter, as well as a handful of classic maps (being close to the vest in relation to my profession, I’d be remiss not to include a sampling of cartographic gems). Tucked among all of this is a relatively modest exhibit, a short poem by the late American poet James Dillet Freeman called “Rivers Hardly Ever” ( https://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/15695.html ). This framed verse was a gift from my Mom, who handed it to me at the tail end of a visit home several years back.
At first glance “Rivers Hardly Ever” comes across as a simple yet poignant take on earth’s sinuous, flowing sensations, and as with anything expressed eloquently, it is worthy of pondering from that angle alone. But even after just a quick read, this poem is not too difficult to construe the deeper meaning: Freeman is using the physical traits of a river’s morphology as a metaphor for some of our better human traits, including perseverance, adaptability, and fortitude (for more on rivers and humanity, see http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2016/03/ ).
If not for “Rivers Hardly Ever”, I may never have come to a fully satisfactory interpretation of Bob Dylan’s 1971 single, “Watching the River Flow”, one of the multitude of Dylan’s underrated, lesser-known songs, which I have enjoyed for some time, but had never grasped in a thoroughly gratifying manner. That changed early this week as I drove into work. I had only the day before picked up Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits Vol. II at a local library, for the sole purpose of listening to this song (friends and family may recall that I’m not one for “Greatest Hits” compilations, but seeing as this was the only album I could find this ditty on, I had no other recourse). Not long after slipping the disk into the CD player, I got a nice little light bulb moment - the kind of moment I always hope for in relation to this blog series - as I listened to track 1, the song focus of this entry.
At that moment, I came to the realization that “Watching the River Flow” shared very similar metaphorical analogies to Freeman’s poem. As the work week progressed I went back and forth between poem and song, and with each cycle that proverbial light bulb illuminated a bit more. And so, much of the remainder of this entry I’ll be elucidating on this commonality in meaning by breaking down “Watching the River Flow” into digestible chunks. But first things first: Thanks, Mom!
Ok, before I dive into “Watching the River Flow” I need to take a slight meander (pun intended). Those of us graced to have children are never short of sound advice for them, but one bit of guidance that can be very difficult is in explaining the importance of not getting caught up in the power struggles of life. We do, as young adults, make this connection in a loose sort of way with our peers, which plays out around our senior year of high school as we eyeball promising but uncertain prospects for the future. Just take another glance at your dusty old yearbook. How many comments from fellow graduates advise us in one way or another to avoid “plasticity” (aka fakeness) by staying true to ourselves?
These are but stepping-stone tips to understanding the core effects of straying from who we really are, but it’s all still sound advice; I’d even go as far as to say its right near the top of the list really. And many of us as adolescents got this advice in a roundabout way from adults as well. But when you are young, it’s still be a bit of a leap to connect plasticity to all the vices that can crop up if we allow it to seep in, including that aforementioned vice of getting caught up in power struggles. That’s where the adult experience really needs to factor, in a way our young peers can’t yet envision. All that being said, I’ve been graced with parents who in some way knew how to get me to mostly avoid those pitfalls. I’d like to think my wife and I have found ways to relay the same wisdom to our children.
Thinking a bit more about power struggles though, there are likely a handful of reasons for a lack of direct advice, first and foremost being that we as parents may come to believe this to be too hard a concept to get across to our sons and daughters until they have truly lived it. Much of our advice to our children is offered up while they are living under our roofs. In our minds we may feel this reality is keeping them somewhat ‘sheltered from the storm’. But the fact of the matter is that they are already seeing power struggles all around them, even during this period in their young lives. And it’s all having an effect on them. The seeds are already being sown.
A second reason is that we want our kids to be ambitious. Teenagers often come across as ambivalent, even rebellious toward most anything authoritative and entrenched. And so, we are caught in a conundrum. To guide them to go out and seize their piece of the pie or to steer them away from the tangled web-weave of materialism? To empower or to humble? For many of us, it’s a never ending balance, not only in the ways in which we advise our children with these fundamental questions, but also in the ways in which we advise ourselves.
Avoiding plasticity and the related power struggles that come with it is a cornerstone of the rock ‘n’ roll message, inherited from folk music (Bob Dylan the key bridge by the way). It is the biggest reason why this music will always be considered by the over-the-top power-hungry types to be subversive. But I digress. It’s time to dig into “Watching the River Flow”, one of those rock ‘n’ roll cornerstone-message sorts of songs. I’m going to do this by breaking it down verse by verse, with commentary interspersed.
The song (see below for url link) starts out with Bob Dylan in a rural all night café in the wee hours. I imagine a truck stop. This out-of-the-gate setting and mood is already telling:
Song: “Watching the River Flow”
Album: Released as a single
Release Date: June, 1971
My office walls are adorned with a number of the masterly art-works of my daughter, as well as a handful of classic maps (being close to the vest in relation to my profession, I’d be remiss not to include a sampling of cartographic gems). Tucked among all of this is a relatively modest exhibit, a short poem by the late American poet James Dillet Freeman called “Rivers Hardly Ever” ( https://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/15695.html ). This framed verse was a gift from my Mom, who handed it to me at the tail end of a visit home several years back.
At first glance “Rivers Hardly Ever” comes across as a simple yet poignant take on earth’s sinuous, flowing sensations, and as with anything expressed eloquently, it is worthy of pondering from that angle alone. But even after just a quick read, this poem is not too difficult to construe the deeper meaning: Freeman is using the physical traits of a river’s morphology as a metaphor for some of our better human traits, including perseverance, adaptability, and fortitude (for more on rivers and humanity, see http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2016/03/ ).
If not for “Rivers Hardly Ever”, I may never have come to a fully satisfactory interpretation of Bob Dylan’s 1971 single, “Watching the River Flow”, one of the multitude of Dylan’s underrated, lesser-known songs, which I have enjoyed for some time, but had never grasped in a thoroughly gratifying manner. That changed early this week as I drove into work. I had only the day before picked up Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits Vol. II at a local library, for the sole purpose of listening to this song (friends and family may recall that I’m not one for “Greatest Hits” compilations, but seeing as this was the only album I could find this ditty on, I had no other recourse). Not long after slipping the disk into the CD player, I got a nice little light bulb moment - the kind of moment I always hope for in relation to this blog series - as I listened to track 1, the song focus of this entry.
At that moment, I came to the realization that “Watching the River Flow” shared very similar metaphorical analogies to Freeman’s poem. As the work week progressed I went back and forth between poem and song, and with each cycle that proverbial light bulb illuminated a bit more. And so, much of the remainder of this entry I’ll be elucidating on this commonality in meaning by breaking down “Watching the River Flow” into digestible chunks. But first things first: Thanks, Mom!
Ok, before I dive into “Watching the River Flow” I need to take a slight meander (pun intended). Those of us graced to have children are never short of sound advice for them, but one bit of guidance that can be very difficult is in explaining the importance of not getting caught up in the power struggles of life. We do, as young adults, make this connection in a loose sort of way with our peers, which plays out around our senior year of high school as we eyeball promising but uncertain prospects for the future. Just take another glance at your dusty old yearbook. How many comments from fellow graduates advise us in one way or another to avoid “plasticity” (aka fakeness) by staying true to ourselves?
These are but stepping-stone tips to understanding the core effects of straying from who we really are, but it’s all still sound advice; I’d even go as far as to say its right near the top of the list really. And many of us as adolescents got this advice in a roundabout way from adults as well. But when you are young, it’s still be a bit of a leap to connect plasticity to all the vices that can crop up if we allow it to seep in, including that aforementioned vice of getting caught up in power struggles. That’s where the adult experience really needs to factor, in a way our young peers can’t yet envision. All that being said, I’ve been graced with parents who in some way knew how to get me to mostly avoid those pitfalls. I’d like to think my wife and I have found ways to relay the same wisdom to our children.
Thinking a bit more about power struggles though, there are likely a handful of reasons for a lack of direct advice, first and foremost being that we as parents may come to believe this to be too hard a concept to get across to our sons and daughters until they have truly lived it. Much of our advice to our children is offered up while they are living under our roofs. In our minds we may feel this reality is keeping them somewhat ‘sheltered from the storm’. But the fact of the matter is that they are already seeing power struggles all around them, even during this period in their young lives. And it’s all having an effect on them. The seeds are already being sown.
A second reason is that we want our kids to be ambitious. Teenagers often come across as ambivalent, even rebellious toward most anything authoritative and entrenched. And so, we are caught in a conundrum. To guide them to go out and seize their piece of the pie or to steer them away from the tangled web-weave of materialism? To empower or to humble? For many of us, it’s a never ending balance, not only in the ways in which we advise our children with these fundamental questions, but also in the ways in which we advise ourselves.
Avoiding plasticity and the related power struggles that come with it is a cornerstone of the rock ‘n’ roll message, inherited from folk music (Bob Dylan the key bridge by the way). It is the biggest reason why this music will always be considered by the over-the-top power-hungry types to be subversive. But I digress. It’s time to dig into “Watching the River Flow”, one of those rock ‘n’ roll cornerstone-message sorts of songs. I’m going to do this by breaking it down verse by verse, with commentary interspersed.
The song (see below for url link) starts out with Bob Dylan in a rural all night café in the wee hours. I imagine a truck stop. This out-of-the-gate setting and mood is already telling:
What's the matter with me
I don't have much to say
Daylight sneakin' through the window
And I'm still in this all-night cafe
Walkin' to and fro beneath the moon
Out to where the trucks are rollin' slow
To sit down on this bank of sand
And watch the river flow
I don't have much to say
Daylight sneakin' through the window
And I'm still in this all-night cafe
Walkin' to and fro beneath the moon
Out to where the trucks are rollin' slow
To sit down on this bank of sand
And watch the river flow
Dylan is in search of inspiration and not finding it. The river remains..... a river. At this stage the song slows to a grinding
halt. But then Leon Russel’s boogie
piano kicks the rest of the instrumentation back in and we move on to the
second verse, where the mood in the lyrics begins to change:
Wish I was back in the city
Instead of this old bank of sand
With the sun beating down over the chimney tops
And the one I love so close at hand
If I had wings and I could fly
I know where I would go
But right now I'll just sit here so contentedly
And watch the river flow
Instead of this old bank of sand
With the sun beating down over the chimney tops
And the one I love so close at hand
If I had wings and I could fly
I know where I would go
But right now I'll just sit here so contentedly
And watch the river flow
I love how in the 2nd line above, Dylan adds the word
“old” in describing the bank of sand he is sitting on. He’s a bit angry at it, because nothings
coming to him. But later in this verse,
his mood is beginning to change. Note
the second-to-last line, the word “contentedly” is included to describe his
changing mood as he watches the river flow (in the second-to-last line in the
first verse this adverb is absent). I
believe what Dylan is insinuating here that inspiration is beginning to kick
in. Here’s where things get much deeper:
People disagreeing on all just about everything, yeah
Makes you stop and all wonder why
Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street
Who just couldn't help but cry
Oh, this ol' river keeps on rollin', though
No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow
And as long as it does I'll just sit here
And watch the river flow
Makes you stop and all wonder why
Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street
Who just couldn't help but cry
Oh, this ol' river keeps on rollin', though
No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow
And as long as it does I'll just sit here
And watch the river flow
I recall that when I first began to love this song, it was this
series of lines that did it for me. Have
you ever seen a stranger break down in a public place? I don’t mean in an obvious way, for all to
see, but a moment you just happened to catch yourself, maybe sitting on a bus,
plane or train and glancing across the aisle over at another passenger weeping
silently. Anyhow, it’s happened to me on
a few occasions. In these cases I left well enough alone, because I got the
sense that whatever emotions I saw were meant to be private. But these moments can have you thinking about
how life can catch up to people sometimes.
Bob Dylan channels these type of thoughts a bit, directing the listener
toward why the person he’s alluding to in this verse is crying, which he blames
on disharmony in the world, due to a seemingly endless dispute between factions
on what is right and what is wrong. This
one line is why I meandered for several paragraphs earlier to write about power
struggles.
However, the central point to “Watching the River Flow” is the anthropomorphism of the river, which really begins to get driven home here. As with “Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” (see Master Blueprints # 4) Bob Dylan dips us down near despair, but in the end pulls us out again with a positive closing message. In this case its’ by pointing to those great human characteristics inherent in all of us – but not always utilized - that are also referred to in Freeman’s poem: Perseverance, adaptability, and fortitude.
After a great instrumental bridge, the last verse kicks in:
However, the central point to “Watching the River Flow” is the anthropomorphism of the river, which really begins to get driven home here. As with “Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” (see Master Blueprints # 4) Bob Dylan dips us down near despair, but in the end pulls us out again with a positive closing message. In this case its’ by pointing to those great human characteristics inherent in all of us – but not always utilized - that are also referred to in Freeman’s poem: Perseverance, adaptability, and fortitude.
After a great instrumental bridge, the last verse kicks in:
People disagreeing everywhere you look
Makes you want to stop and read a book
Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street
That was really shook
But this ol' river keeps on rollin', though
No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow
And as long as it does I'll just sit here
And watch the river flow
Makes you want to stop and read a book
Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street
That was really shook
But this ol' river keeps on rollin', though
No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow
And as long as it does I'll just sit here
And watch the river flow
It’s a repeat on the talking points in the 3rd verse,
but that’s fine by me, seeing as this fourth verse reaffirms the core messages.
To get the most out of this song, I believe you need to hear the original studio version, but it’s impossible to find on YouTube (there are several live Dylan versions and a number of covers, but no original to be found). I did find it on a Japanese video-sharing website called Ninonico, but I had to sign up (it’s quick however, and free of charge): http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm10123061.
Bob Dylan and James Dillet Freeman each found ways to give praise to the steady-as-you-go peace makers of the world through the metaphor of a river. The notion of righteousness, ultimately besting immorality. We shall overcome indeed. As one other songwriter once put it, “Ol’ Man River, he just keeps on rolling. He just keeps on rolling along”.
- Pete
To get the most out of this song, I believe you need to hear the original studio version, but it’s impossible to find on YouTube (there are several live Dylan versions and a number of covers, but no original to be found). I did find it on a Japanese video-sharing website called Ninonico, but I had to sign up (it’s quick however, and free of charge): http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm10123061.
Bob Dylan and James Dillet Freeman each found ways to give praise to the steady-as-you-go peace makers of the world through the metaphor of a river. The notion of righteousness, ultimately besting immorality. We shall overcome indeed. As one other songwriter once put it, “Ol’ Man River, he just keeps on rolling. He just keeps on rolling along”.
- Pete
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Master Blueprints # 5: “Well, the Last Thing I Remember Before I Stripped and Kneeled, Was a Train Load of Fools Bogged Down in a Magnetic Field"
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Señor”
Album: Street Legal
Release Date: June, 1978
A tradition in my household during the Christmas season has been to watch one or more of the many film adaptions of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”. I’d say we have probably watched about eight in all, most on numerous occasions, and have found that you really can’t go wrong with any of them (although our favorite and most watched is the 1970 musical staring Albert Finney as Scrooge). There’s something about the story that brings out the best in the actors, directors and producers, no matter the film era or the budget.
However, one piece of the plot I have been a bit confused about over the years was the purpose of the ghost of Jacob Marley. Here’s the dilemma: If you are accursed, as Marley apparently was, then why bother to reach out to Scrooge? What was in it for Jacob Marley? I mean, with all those money boxes and chains he’s lugging around, and all the moaning and groaning, and his own doomed self-analysis, one can’t help but conclude that this ghost is a lost soul, damned for all eternity.
On top of these personal afflictions, there is, in at least one movie adaptation - the one starring Finney – a scenario that has Scrooge and Marley drifting above the night streets of London amongst truly hapless apparitions, all of whom are floating about aimlessly in a torturous haze. And later in that same film, Marley welcomes Scrooge to hell, which will presumably play out, if, in the words of the Second Spirit, “these shadows remain unaltered by the future”. It appeared that Jacob Marley was in a very bad place, with no chance for parole, so how is he out and about in the first place? This all seemed a bit flawed.
After reading Dicken’s original tale however, I have come to believe that the author probably meant for Marley to be in some sort of purgatory - in pursuit of atonement - and not hell. Alas, purgatory is not heaven, not by any stretch of the imagination. But it isn’t hell either. After all, despite the impression of forlornness that Jacob Marley exudes, he does in fact have an affiliation with the three spirits, who he forebodes to Scrooge. And the spirits are there to try to make matters right, so they can only be coming from a good place. With this in mind, maybe, just maybe, Dickens meant for Scrooge’s salvation to be Marley’s salvation too; a high stakes Christmas Eve, not for one, but for both of these former business partners.
Ok, enough about Jacob Marley. To get to my Bob Dylan connection in this entry I need to round this out and move on to the 3 spirits; the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. There is no mistaking their purpose in Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”, which is resolute and clear. All bring ominous tones in their messages to Scrooge, with the 3rd spirit’s message the most dreaded of all, not only to Scrooge, but also to many of us who connect with this story. This is at least partly because, unlike the other 2 spirits, the 3rd spirit is rooted in Christian theology. He’s the Grim Reaper, the Angel of Death.
Bob Dylan’s own tale of purgatory and journey with death appears to play out in transcendent fashion in his majestic song “Señor” ( https://vimeo.com/223957330 ). I have to say up front, I’ve never read anything where Dylan has actually come out and stated this as being what the song is about, but I’ve suspected it for some time. It was a recent Bono cover story in Rolling Stone, one where the U2 front man basically states the same thoughts, which pretty much confirmed my interpretation, at least for me (Bono adds in his interview that the subtitle of the song “Tales of Yankee Power”, is Dylan pulling the listener off the trail).
The title of “Señor” is Bob Dylan’s name for the Angel of Death, whom the central figure in the song is imploring from start to finish, and much like Ebenezer Scrooge, receiving nary a reply. Also, much like Scrooge’s tone by the time he meets the 3rd Spirit, the protagonists tone in this song toward Señor is one of awe-inspiring respect, albeit a respect also interspersed with confusion and consternation. As the song plays out, this yearning soul takes a mind-boggling ride with this reverential figure, not knowing the why or the where to, but getting an endless parade of glimpses into his life’s journey, along with what appears to be occasional glimpses into mankind’s journey. As with Scrooge, what he is shown is of a very serious nature.
There are seven stanzas in “Señor”, with the fifth being the most intense:
“Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled
Was that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field
A gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring
He said “Son, this ain’t a dream no more, it’s the real thing”
Yow! I interpret the first half of this stanza as the protagonist seeking Divine Mercy, with a terrified eye on those who have rejected it. The second half comes at you from a different angle. One image that flashes through my mind as I listen is that of a homeless person, a soul who remains firmly planted in terra firma, and yet who alone can actually see what is playing out in this spirit-world of a journey, and respond in kind, as the central figure and the Angel of Death drift past. It’s so unique of a plot twist, and with such specific detail, that I can’t help but believe it really happened.
“Señor” is a truly open, honest, extraordinary song. One thing that separates Bob Dylan from many of his contemporaries - which plays out here - is that he’s willing to face his own mortality (George Harrison was another). Other musicians can come across this way, but they don’t express it in the way Dylan does. Often, their expression is through self-destruction, which in reality is not really facing the music. Dylan does face the music however, because his expression is founded upon a never-ending quest for redemption.
The very beginning and ending of “Señor” is identical; a slow methodical series of guitar notes, which has me pondering that nothing has changed – despite the supernatural sojourn. Nothing yet, anyway. The album Street Legal - aside from “Señor” an otherwise average album by Bob Dylan standards - was released just prior to Dylan’s “Gospel Years” (see Master Blueprints # 3), and so this kinda makes sense. Dylan was stuck in a sort of purgatory at that stage in his life, but soon he would be ready to break that mold.
There is much to mull over when listening to “Señor”. Yes, this is likely Bob Dylan’s purgatory, but as with any great work of art, there is a piece of all of us in there too.
- Pete
Song: “Señor”
Album: Street Legal
Release Date: June, 1978
A tradition in my household during the Christmas season has been to watch one or more of the many film adaptions of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”. I’d say we have probably watched about eight in all, most on numerous occasions, and have found that you really can’t go wrong with any of them (although our favorite and most watched is the 1970 musical staring Albert Finney as Scrooge). There’s something about the story that brings out the best in the actors, directors and producers, no matter the film era or the budget.
However, one piece of the plot I have been a bit confused about over the years was the purpose of the ghost of Jacob Marley. Here’s the dilemma: If you are accursed, as Marley apparently was, then why bother to reach out to Scrooge? What was in it for Jacob Marley? I mean, with all those money boxes and chains he’s lugging around, and all the moaning and groaning, and his own doomed self-analysis, one can’t help but conclude that this ghost is a lost soul, damned for all eternity.
On top of these personal afflictions, there is, in at least one movie adaptation - the one starring Finney – a scenario that has Scrooge and Marley drifting above the night streets of London amongst truly hapless apparitions, all of whom are floating about aimlessly in a torturous haze. And later in that same film, Marley welcomes Scrooge to hell, which will presumably play out, if, in the words of the Second Spirit, “these shadows remain unaltered by the future”. It appeared that Jacob Marley was in a very bad place, with no chance for parole, so how is he out and about in the first place? This all seemed a bit flawed.
After reading Dicken’s original tale however, I have come to believe that the author probably meant for Marley to be in some sort of purgatory - in pursuit of atonement - and not hell. Alas, purgatory is not heaven, not by any stretch of the imagination. But it isn’t hell either. After all, despite the impression of forlornness that Jacob Marley exudes, he does in fact have an affiliation with the three spirits, who he forebodes to Scrooge. And the spirits are there to try to make matters right, so they can only be coming from a good place. With this in mind, maybe, just maybe, Dickens meant for Scrooge’s salvation to be Marley’s salvation too; a high stakes Christmas Eve, not for one, but for both of these former business partners.
Ok, enough about Jacob Marley. To get to my Bob Dylan connection in this entry I need to round this out and move on to the 3 spirits; the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. There is no mistaking their purpose in Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol”, which is resolute and clear. All bring ominous tones in their messages to Scrooge, with the 3rd spirit’s message the most dreaded of all, not only to Scrooge, but also to many of us who connect with this story. This is at least partly because, unlike the other 2 spirits, the 3rd spirit is rooted in Christian theology. He’s the Grim Reaper, the Angel of Death.
Bob Dylan’s own tale of purgatory and journey with death appears to play out in transcendent fashion in his majestic song “Señor” ( https://vimeo.com/223957330 ). I have to say up front, I’ve never read anything where Dylan has actually come out and stated this as being what the song is about, but I’ve suspected it for some time. It was a recent Bono cover story in Rolling Stone, one where the U2 front man basically states the same thoughts, which pretty much confirmed my interpretation, at least for me (Bono adds in his interview that the subtitle of the song “Tales of Yankee Power”, is Dylan pulling the listener off the trail).
The title of “Señor” is Bob Dylan’s name for the Angel of Death, whom the central figure in the song is imploring from start to finish, and much like Ebenezer Scrooge, receiving nary a reply. Also, much like Scrooge’s tone by the time he meets the 3rd Spirit, the protagonists tone in this song toward Señor is one of awe-inspiring respect, albeit a respect also interspersed with confusion and consternation. As the song plays out, this yearning soul takes a mind-boggling ride with this reverential figure, not knowing the why or the where to, but getting an endless parade of glimpses into his life’s journey, along with what appears to be occasional glimpses into mankind’s journey. As with Scrooge, what he is shown is of a very serious nature.
There are seven stanzas in “Señor”, with the fifth being the most intense:
“Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled
Was that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field
A gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring
He said “Son, this ain’t a dream no more, it’s the real thing”
Yow! I interpret the first half of this stanza as the protagonist seeking Divine Mercy, with a terrified eye on those who have rejected it. The second half comes at you from a different angle. One image that flashes through my mind as I listen is that of a homeless person, a soul who remains firmly planted in terra firma, and yet who alone can actually see what is playing out in this spirit-world of a journey, and respond in kind, as the central figure and the Angel of Death drift past. It’s so unique of a plot twist, and with such specific detail, that I can’t help but believe it really happened.
“Señor” is a truly open, honest, extraordinary song. One thing that separates Bob Dylan from many of his contemporaries - which plays out here - is that he’s willing to face his own mortality (George Harrison was another). Other musicians can come across this way, but they don’t express it in the way Dylan does. Often, their expression is through self-destruction, which in reality is not really facing the music. Dylan does face the music however, because his expression is founded upon a never-ending quest for redemption.
The very beginning and ending of “Señor” is identical; a slow methodical series of guitar notes, which has me pondering that nothing has changed – despite the supernatural sojourn. Nothing yet, anyway. The album Street Legal - aside from “Señor” an otherwise average album by Bob Dylan standards - was released just prior to Dylan’s “Gospel Years” (see Master Blueprints # 3), and so this kinda makes sense. Dylan was stuck in a sort of purgatory at that stage in his life, but soon he would be ready to break that mold.
There is much to mull over when listening to “Señor”. Yes, this is likely Bob Dylan’s purgatory, but as with any great work of art, there is a piece of all of us in there too.
- Pete
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Master Blueprints # 4: “Oh, What'll You Do Now My Blue Eyed Son, Oh, What'll You Do Now My Darling Young One”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall”
Album: The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan
Release Date: May, 1963
On the same weekend I turned 16 years of age, I attended the marriage of one of my parent’s closest friends, my Godfather Jack, to Ellen. It was the ‘Godfather’ part that got me the invite, which allowed for some invaluable solo time with Mom and Dad for an entire day (being one of six, these alone-time memories with both my parents were few, far between, and cherished). It was a beautiful summer day, with a slight breeze coming off the ocean on Massachusetts’ South Shore. A large tent was set up for the reception in Ellen’s backyard, with a classical band contributing to the joyous mood, performing on the grassy hillside, which sloped off to reveal a serene view of Cape Cod Bay behind them.
In many respects this was a coming-of-age day for me. The conversations with my parents – to, from, and at the wedding - were more adult-like than before. Those conversations were also more two-way. On top of that development, this was one of my very first weddings. A vast majority of the people who attended were much older than I. The food was adult. The music was adult. The beverages were adult. The dancing was adult. The humor, the sophistication, the wealth, the strengths – and the weaknesses - were virtually all adult.
There were several of us in the younger bracket there however, holding up our end of the generational spectrum. This small representation would include my slightly older, free-spirited cousin, Lori, who I took a brief stroll with to the beach (engaging in yet another coming-of-age type conversation if I recall). There were also several of Jack’s nieces and nephews, one of whom was doubling up on my own forays to the beer tent (and later paying for it). This too was, in its own way, a coming of age experience. However, it was the performance of another one of Jack’s nephews, one who was about half my age, which gave me my most lasting impressions of the day.
Toward the end of the ceremony, not long after the band had departed, this boy stood on a chair to make his presence known, with the obvious intention – with a little help from his Mom and Dad - of entertaining us. I had never met him before, so I did not know what to expect. Others in attendance knew what was coming though, and they gathered around him in hushed tones, listening intently as this youngster first collected himself, and then launched into the ballad, “Danny Boy”. If not for his singing, you could have heard a pin drop over the subsequent 3-minute span. It was a masterful rendition. I say this not only because he was good, but because he got this jaded teenager’s attention, which was not an easy thing to pull in those days, particularly by a kid. He also stimulated my curiosity, and in turn capped off a thought-provoking day; a day I look back on now as having contributed quite impressively to the shaping of my world view.
“Danny Boy”. What was it that so deeply stirred this predominantly Boston-Irish crowd on that hot afternoon, August, 1978? I concluded right off that it could not be the singing alone, which was good, but not that good. No, there was history playing out here, recent history. And deep raw emotion, which was thinly veiled just beneath the surface, but bubbling up now. I saw tears and I heard sobs, and I connected. It took a while for that connection to gel, but gel it would.
The Irish journey, like many other 19th and early 20th century journeys, was not an easy one. It witnessed its fair share of sacrifices and separations. The people at this wedding were remembering their families past. What I was seeing and hearing was both gratitude and lament for the sacrifices and turmoil that their forefathers (and I’m sure a number of them) had endured. Yes, the song played out only for a few brief moments. But for my then-newly-minted 16-year-old ears and eyes, a few moments was long enough.
“Danny Boy” is a ballad about the parting of a son from his Irish homeland, and it’s delivered from the perspective of his Dad. There’s a sense that the son is going off to war, but it could also be that father and son are being forced to separate for some other reason equally dire (famine, opportunity overseas, British rule). The lyrics are a grieving of sorts, that this is the last time the two will see each other, and that the father will no longer be alive when and if his son returns. This is all heady stuff, but the toughest pill to swallow in the lyrics of “Danny Boy” are heard between the lines. There’s a sense that this Dad knows all too well what his son is in for. There’s an immense loss of innocence just around the corner. And there’s nothing either of them can do about it. The fact that this part of the story goes unspoken, makes “Danny Boy” even more stirring than if it was.
Bob Dylan took this concept to the nth degree with “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall”. Here we hear the other side of the son’s journey, the coming home side, and the journey experience the father had feared. “Where have you been?”, “What did you see?”, “Who did you meet?”, and “What did you hear, my blue eyed son?” “My darling young one?” the father repeatedly asks. The son’s responses? I’d do an injustice to extract a sampling, so here’s a link to the original studio version for a listen ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5al0HmR4to ).
Whether or not this ‘Danny-comes-home’ concept was Bob Dylan’s intention, I am of course not privy. But it’s what I mostly hear when I listen. I also on occasion, hear “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” as Dylan singing to his own father about his own journey. For example, at one point near the end of this uncanny song he sings the line “And I’ll know my song well before I start singin’”, so you get the sense there’s at least a small piece of him there. If this be case it could be related to his journey up to the date he wrote the song (1963) or more profoundly, it could be him anticipating his remaining journey as well, which is still playing out. Bob Dylan is a poet, and poets see the world more intensely, and often more starkly, than most of us do.
If Bob Dylan left the song at those series of questions and answers mentioned above, it would have left the listener to ponder the gnawing pang of a conclusion: Who’s to blame? But Dylan doesn’t stop there. The last question from father to son goes “Oh, What’ll you do now my blue eyed son; oh, what’ll you do now my darling young one?” The response is a strong, defiant one, twice the length of all the previous responses, and includes the most brilliant line among brilliant lines: “then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’”. In other words, faith will propel this son forward from this moment on.
The father has lost a boy, but he’s gained …..a man.
My journey has not been the same as that of the son in “Oh Danny Boy” and “Hard Rain”, or the journey of Bob Dylan for that matter. But despite this, I believe I can relate. How can this be? How can someone like me, who has lived a relatively sheltered life, relate to a storied son who has been to hell and back, or a man who has inspired a generation? It comes down to moments in your life. Moments that shape who you are. Moments like the ones I spent on a hot summer day, with my parents, at a wedding, on my 16th birthday
- Pete
Song: “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall”
Album: The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan
Release Date: May, 1963
On the same weekend I turned 16 years of age, I attended the marriage of one of my parent’s closest friends, my Godfather Jack, to Ellen. It was the ‘Godfather’ part that got me the invite, which allowed for some invaluable solo time with Mom and Dad for an entire day (being one of six, these alone-time memories with both my parents were few, far between, and cherished). It was a beautiful summer day, with a slight breeze coming off the ocean on Massachusetts’ South Shore. A large tent was set up for the reception in Ellen’s backyard, with a classical band contributing to the joyous mood, performing on the grassy hillside, which sloped off to reveal a serene view of Cape Cod Bay behind them.
In many respects this was a coming-of-age day for me. The conversations with my parents – to, from, and at the wedding - were more adult-like than before. Those conversations were also more two-way. On top of that development, this was one of my very first weddings. A vast majority of the people who attended were much older than I. The food was adult. The music was adult. The beverages were adult. The dancing was adult. The humor, the sophistication, the wealth, the strengths – and the weaknesses - were virtually all adult.
There were several of us in the younger bracket there however, holding up our end of the generational spectrum. This small representation would include my slightly older, free-spirited cousin, Lori, who I took a brief stroll with to the beach (engaging in yet another coming-of-age type conversation if I recall). There were also several of Jack’s nieces and nephews, one of whom was doubling up on my own forays to the beer tent (and later paying for it). This too was, in its own way, a coming of age experience. However, it was the performance of another one of Jack’s nephews, one who was about half my age, which gave me my most lasting impressions of the day.
Toward the end of the ceremony, not long after the band had departed, this boy stood on a chair to make his presence known, with the obvious intention – with a little help from his Mom and Dad - of entertaining us. I had never met him before, so I did not know what to expect. Others in attendance knew what was coming though, and they gathered around him in hushed tones, listening intently as this youngster first collected himself, and then launched into the ballad, “Danny Boy”. If not for his singing, you could have heard a pin drop over the subsequent 3-minute span. It was a masterful rendition. I say this not only because he was good, but because he got this jaded teenager’s attention, which was not an easy thing to pull in those days, particularly by a kid. He also stimulated my curiosity, and in turn capped off a thought-provoking day; a day I look back on now as having contributed quite impressively to the shaping of my world view.
“Danny Boy”. What was it that so deeply stirred this predominantly Boston-Irish crowd on that hot afternoon, August, 1978? I concluded right off that it could not be the singing alone, which was good, but not that good. No, there was history playing out here, recent history. And deep raw emotion, which was thinly veiled just beneath the surface, but bubbling up now. I saw tears and I heard sobs, and I connected. It took a while for that connection to gel, but gel it would.
The Irish journey, like many other 19th and early 20th century journeys, was not an easy one. It witnessed its fair share of sacrifices and separations. The people at this wedding were remembering their families past. What I was seeing and hearing was both gratitude and lament for the sacrifices and turmoil that their forefathers (and I’m sure a number of them) had endured. Yes, the song played out only for a few brief moments. But for my then-newly-minted 16-year-old ears and eyes, a few moments was long enough.
“Danny Boy” is a ballad about the parting of a son from his Irish homeland, and it’s delivered from the perspective of his Dad. There’s a sense that the son is going off to war, but it could also be that father and son are being forced to separate for some other reason equally dire (famine, opportunity overseas, British rule). The lyrics are a grieving of sorts, that this is the last time the two will see each other, and that the father will no longer be alive when and if his son returns. This is all heady stuff, but the toughest pill to swallow in the lyrics of “Danny Boy” are heard between the lines. There’s a sense that this Dad knows all too well what his son is in for. There’s an immense loss of innocence just around the corner. And there’s nothing either of them can do about it. The fact that this part of the story goes unspoken, makes “Danny Boy” even more stirring than if it was.
Bob Dylan took this concept to the nth degree with “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall”. Here we hear the other side of the son’s journey, the coming home side, and the journey experience the father had feared. “Where have you been?”, “What did you see?”, “Who did you meet?”, and “What did you hear, my blue eyed son?” “My darling young one?” the father repeatedly asks. The son’s responses? I’d do an injustice to extract a sampling, so here’s a link to the original studio version for a listen ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T5al0HmR4to ).
Whether or not this ‘Danny-comes-home’ concept was Bob Dylan’s intention, I am of course not privy. But it’s what I mostly hear when I listen. I also on occasion, hear “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” as Dylan singing to his own father about his own journey. For example, at one point near the end of this uncanny song he sings the line “And I’ll know my song well before I start singin’”, so you get the sense there’s at least a small piece of him there. If this be case it could be related to his journey up to the date he wrote the song (1963) or more profoundly, it could be him anticipating his remaining journey as well, which is still playing out. Bob Dylan is a poet, and poets see the world more intensely, and often more starkly, than most of us do.
If Bob Dylan left the song at those series of questions and answers mentioned above, it would have left the listener to ponder the gnawing pang of a conclusion: Who’s to blame? But Dylan doesn’t stop there. The last question from father to son goes “Oh, What’ll you do now my blue eyed son; oh, what’ll you do now my darling young one?” The response is a strong, defiant one, twice the length of all the previous responses, and includes the most brilliant line among brilliant lines: “then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’”. In other words, faith will propel this son forward from this moment on.
The father has lost a boy, but he’s gained …..a man.
My journey has not been the same as that of the son in “Oh Danny Boy” and “Hard Rain”, or the journey of Bob Dylan for that matter. But despite this, I believe I can relate. How can this be? How can someone like me, who has lived a relatively sheltered life, relate to a storied son who has been to hell and back, or a man who has inspired a generation? It comes down to moments in your life. Moments that shape who you are. Moments like the ones I spent on a hot summer day, with my parents, at a wedding, on my 16th birthday
- Pete
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