(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Red River Shore”
Album: The
Bootleg Series Vol. 8: Tell Tale Signs: Rare and Unreleased 1989–2006
Release Date: Date: October
2008 (produced in 1989 during the Oh Mercy sessions)
Part 1 of 2
Flash back to early summer 2006, the first day in the week of a
very large computer mapping (GIS) conference at the San Diego Convention Center,
being hosted by ESRI. Since I’ve been
through this before, I know I’m in for a main-stage all-day marketing bonanza
by the hosts. Several colleagues are
aware of this as well, and so, with the hope of getting some real work done, we
make plans to take the 3-hour drive north to Redlands to meet with a few ESRI technical
staffers at their corporate headquarters.
After a predictably productive day in Redlands, we start heading back to
San Diego on an alternate scenic route though the canyons, which is recommended
to us at the meeting. I’m driving, and as we weave our way up the mountain
roads, I turn on the XM satellite radio that comes with the rental car and immediately
I hear a familiar voice over the airwaves talking about, of all topics,
mothers. Yes, those mothers: The (mostly) wonderful woman who reared us.
This was my introduction to Bob Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour, which began airing the week before (“Mother”
was episode # 2 of 100) and I was fortunate to have stumbled into it so early. I mean, to put this into perspective, I’m not
someone who jumps out of the gate to get new technology. My cell phone is antiquated. Our home computer is too. And so is my car and its satellite-bereft radio. What can I say? I don’t see it as a priority to jump on
technology bandwagons, and neither does my wife Nancy (though we have not
subjected our children to this position, and help pay for their various modern
devices so they can fit in and not have to face good-natured ridicule like us).
For those who have never listened to Theme Time Radio, I recommend you begin doing your homework
(episodes are available on line). The show
works for anyone who loves music, period!
And it will never be dated. The
basic concept had Bob Dylan as DJ choosing a weekly theme, say “Death and
Taxes” and then playing songs that reflected that given theme from all genera –
be it swing, punk, blues, even sea shanties - since the dawn of recorded music. Dylan would also offer up between-song commentary
in the form of trivia, minutiae and anecdotes, which was often humorous. It was all so fascinating, but most
important, the program taught me more about the vast world of music than
anything else I’d ever experienced.
Aside from a few additional random moments with Theme Time Radio Hour on XM radio in
cars not my own, I may have foolishly left that Southern California drive as a
nice isolated experience if not for good friend Jeff Strause coming to the
rescue. Half a year into Season One, I
received a parcel of 10 cd’s in the mail, each with a recorded episode. Over the next few years I’d receive several
more parcels of episodes. These were
some of the best gifts I have ever been given in my life, as I have listened to
those cd’s as much as anything else I have in my entire record collection, and
that’s saying something. Thanks again,
Jeff!
Before I dive into an idea I have for this entry, I need to
reflect on a few memorable hillite-reel moments from Theme Time Radio. My
favorite episode was “California”, followed closely by “Days of the Week”. Both captured the perfect mood for the given
theme, and the diversity of music for each was masterfully orchestrated (about
as well as Bob Dylan orchestrates his own songs). Other great episodes included “Blood” and “Smoking”. Then there was the hilarious lead-in to the
“Classic Rock” episode; Dylan building up the anticipation for weeks. When it finally came, the songs were all
about…. rocks and other forms of geology.
LOL! (I have never and will never use that term again in this series,
but it fits well here). I loved Bob Dylan’s
interpretation of an angry exchange between Nikiti Khrushchev and Richard Nixon
in the “Presidents” episode. And hearing
him cracking up while talking about the Byrds in the “Birds” episode. I also loved DJ Dylan’s reflection on a
handful of the famous last words of people on their death beds in the “Death
and Taxes” episode, including Lou Costello’s “That’s the best ice cream soda I
ever tasted”. The man was clearly in his
element, episode after episode after episode.
Amazing music moments include Kris Kristofferson “Sunday Morning Coming
Down” (closing the “Days of the Week” episode), Curtis Mayfield “Freddie’s
Dead” (heard on the “Death and Taxes” episode), They Might Be Giants singing
“James K Polk” (“Presidents” episode), Linda Thompson’s heart wrenching
“Withered and Died” (“Death and Taxes”), and Townes Van Zandt’s eerie “Nothing”
(from the episode of the same name). There
was the pleasant surprise of hearing Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins sing
“Happy” (episode “Happiness”) and listening to Jolie Holland closing the
“California” episode with “Goodbye California” (never mind hearing Dione
Warwick’s “Do You Know the Way to San Jose” and the Sir Douglas Quintet singing
“Mendocino” in the same episode). There
was local Boston band “Morphine” singing “Thursday” on “Days of the Week”, Nervous
Norvus singing “Transfusion” on the “Blood” episode, and Billie Holliday
singing “What Is This Thing Called Love” in the “Questions” episode. The list goes on my friends.
At one time or another Bob Dylan would end up playing the music of pretty much any
quality musician you can think of including such diverse acts the Rolling
Stones (once stating that he played them more than average because they were
always supportive of black acts as backup bands at their shows), Randy Newman,
Judy Garland, Muddy Waters, the Mississippi Sheiks, Bing Crosby, Hank
Williams, Frank Sinatra, Joni Mitchell, Gram Parsons, Lois Armstrong, Tiny Tim,
Mose Allison, and Thunderclap Newman. With
that said, the only quality act Bob Dylan never covered on his radio program
was the music of Mr. Top Cat himself… in other words his own songs (“Top Cat” by
the way was the instrumental music that closed each show). To my recollection there was one minor
exception: An in-studio instrumental performance of “Blowin’ In the Wind” on
the recorder during the “Days of the Week” episode. This was done immediately after
Dylan played the Rolling Stones’ “Ruby Tuesday” and discussed Brian Jones
timeless playing of the recorder on that record (at the time, DJ Dylan called
the recorder the most beautiful sounding of all musical instruments). After this short rendition of “Blowin’ In the
Wind” Bob Dylan courteously chirped “How about that!”. Yeah, how about that.
With all this in mind, I thought what I’d do in this entry and the
next is envision a fictitious episode of Theme
Time Radio Hour, consisting of all Bob Dylan songs. The theme?
“Astonish”. Here’s a chance, I
thought, to run through 10 Dylan songs that have blown me away and do it in
radio-format style. I’ll have to
substitute here for Bob Dylan as DJ, because Dylan would be too humble to do
such a thing, so I won’t put myself in his shoes. In the process I will do my best to honor the
ambiance of the original Theme Time. For those who read my blog series on a
regular basis, you may notice a few songs that I’ve
already covered as Blueprints. Mostly however, I’ll roll out songs that
I’ve yet to discuss. Here goes….
Good evening and
welcome to Alternate-World Theme Time Radio.
Tonight’s episode, which is focused on the music of the real-world Theme Time host, Bob Dylan, may have you
astonished, astounded, and floored. Perhaps
talking to yourself, speaking in tongues, or off on a quest for the Holy
Grail. Are you ready for mind expansion?
Ready to solve the world’s problems? I’m
thinking it may be time to dust off that old VHS of 2001: A Space Odyssey, or maybe take a Quantum Physics course. Go ahead and stare deeper into that Burning
Bush. It’s the new golden age of the enlightenment folks. Be sure to eat your cheerios for breakfast,
avocado for lunch, and fish for dinner. Then do what you must do, and after you
do so, keep an ear open for Nobel to give you a call.
We can’t dive into the
deep end right away. It’s too steep. So, let’s start with a little dream-sequence
ditty from Bringing It All Back Home.
You know the number: It’s “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream”. Hold on tight. This dream makes Alice in Wonderland feel like a mandatory corporate training
session.
https://vimeo.com/235551745
There you go Alice. Stick that in you pipe and smoke it!
There’s a moral to the
story here: If you find yourself in a dream that puts you in an endless parade
of hopeless predicaments you gotta kinda roll with the punches.
Speaking of stories,
morals and predicaments, let’s move on to “The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas
Priest”. Of the two characters here, who
is the hero? Who is the victim? You
decide:
http://videos.sapo.pt/WwoLzoKUubtoZVIZaVD6
“The Ballad of Frankie
Lee and Judas Priest” starts off well enough, speaking to us average Joes in
simple language we can understand. This
goes on for about three verses, where you’ve got a straight-up story of one guy
(Frankie Lee) needing to borrow money and another (Judas Priest) willing to
help his friend. But my goodness, by the
start of the fourth verse things start to get a whole lot deeper, with Judas
Priest telling Frankie Lee that he’ll wait for him down the road in “Eternity”
as Frankie Lee decides on how much money he wants to borrow. At the same time,
Frankie Lee, apparently an agnostic, disputes Judas’ Priest use of the
term. The story just gets wilder from
there, culminating with Frankie Lee tracking down Judas Priest (with the help
of a ‘stranger’) at a bright home with “four and twenty windows, and a woman’s
face in every one”. Here Frankie Lee loses
control “over everything he had made
while the mission bells did toll”.
The saga ends with Frankie Lee dying of thirst in Judas Priest’s arms. There’s
only one response to this story: Yow!
“The Ballad of Frankie
Lee and Judas Priest” keeps you glued from beginning to end, but for my money
it’s the closing stanza that I can never get enough of:
“Well the moral of the story
The moral of this song
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong
So, when you see your neighbor carryin’ somethin’
Help him with his load
And don’t go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road”
Sing these words as
you listen. They’ll sink in…in ways that
are difficult to explain.
Where to go from here?
How about we head for the hills…. the highlands
to be more precise, which is the title of Bob Dylan’s longest song; 16 minutes
and thirty-one seconds of raw emotion.
The “Highlands” highlight is of course the middle-frame storyline, which
places Dylan in a “Boston Town” restaurant (being from the area, my thought is
that the locale was in bordering Cambridge, at the old Wursthaus Restaurant in
Harvard Square). Go figure? Boston is about as far from the highlands as
one would think. Well, this song is all
over the map, and I’m not going to dwell here on the significance of the
title. What elevates it to being
included in this Alternate Theme Time episode is in his exchange with a
waitress in that Boston restaurant. I’ll
tackle that in a quarter hour or so. In
the meantime, set aside 16 minutes of mind space and have a listen:
https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xmhoa5
As you may have
deciphered, the waitress comes across from the beginning as ….
confrontational. She knows who this
famous person is the second she lays eyes on him alone in his booth, and she’s
ready to confront him for what she has already concluded as being a male
chauvinist (which he addresses in the song).
You would think this a courageous stance, but the way the waitress goes
about her protestation comes across as shallow and devoid of compassion. Bob Dylan, trapped in his seat, sees this
right away. However, he adapts to the
moment, albeit begrudgingly seeing as he’s forced into revealing to this
waitress that she has become but a figment of her true self. How does he do this? Well the waitress knows that Dylan is an
artist on the side and demands he draw a sketch of her. After drawing a few lines on a napkin, he
hands the results over and she tosses it back angrily while stating it looks
nothing like her. Dylan then says, “Oh kind miss, it most certainly does”. She says, “You must be joking”. His
reply on its own fits our theme word “Astonish” like a glove: “I wish I was”.
Next on the docket: “Red
River Shore”. First up in the astonish
category regarding this song: How do you bury it? Cut in the studio for the Time Out of Mind sessions in 1997, producer
Daniel Lanois, along with the session musicians, all thought they caught
lightning in a bottle. But to their
dismay, Bob Dylan decided to leave it off the final record. It could be easily argued that “Red River
Shore” was the best of the best of songs performed for Time Out of Mind. And this is not an
isolated event. Dylan has done this
throughout his career. It’s head shaking
when you think about it. Without further
ado, let’s have a listen:
https://vimeo.com/233167417
It’s a beautiful song,
is it not? Dwell for a moment if you can on Bob Dylan’s singing. For example, when he sings the lyrics “well, I been to the east and I been to the
west and I….”. The slight hesitancy
in that last “and I” makes it sound
so personal. To me “Red River Shore” is about
a man who dedicates his life to a singular memory, and in doing so maintains
his integrity despite his loneliness. As
with “The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest”, this song also starts simple,
chugging along in “I think I can” fashion.
But soon enough it shifts tracks to the mind-boggling speed rail. The last three verses (6 - 8) are heartfelt
and fascinating. If we could all tap that
deep into the well of creativity that is inside all of us this world would be a
better place.
The rest
of this Alternate Theme Time episode
will conclude next entry with six more song reviews in Part 2 of 2.
Closing
note: this 2-part series is dedicated to fellow Theme Time Radio Hour enthusiast, Linda Whiteside (from Bob Dylan’s
hometown of Hibbing MN no less!) and Jeff Strause, who fed the flame.
- Pete
Sunday, June 10, 2018
Monday, June 4, 2018
Master Blueprints # 21: “Oh, Jokerman, You Know What He Wants, Oh, Jokerman, You Don’t Show Any Response”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Jokerman”
Album: Infidels
Release Date: Date: October 1983
One subject I’ve yet to focus much attention on in this series is Bob Dylan’s early 60s protest music, which was creatively portrayed as a persona (by Christian Bale) in the highly recommended and aptly-named movie I’m Not There (one of six Dylan personas in the film, each played by a different actor). Virtually every documentary of Bob Dylan I’ve ever read or watched includes at least one chapter or segment centered on this persona. Most of these documentaries put a bow on that period at about the time Dylan went all rock & roll electric on everyone near the middle of the decade, presumably abandoning protest music in the process. To be more specific, political protest – which is how Joan Baez once explained it. This distinction is important, because if defining ‘protest’ as “a solemn declaration” (which is at the nexus of the origin of the word) one could argue that Dylan would go on to protest all sorts of things as the 60s played out, from a bad work environment (“Maggie’s Farm”) to getting jilted (“She’s Your Lover Now”) to urban chaos (“Desolation Row”) to a prodigal daughter (“Tears of Rage”) to the consequences of apathy (“Too Much of Nothing”).
As the 70s rolled in, Bob Dylan did manage to weave back in the political-protest narrative here and there, including in his songs “Hurricane” and “Lenny Bruce”. All the while, his other forms of protest continued, which was made clear in a classic moment on the Bob Dylan Live, 1975 disc, (see the last three Master Blueprint entries centered on the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review Tour), where Dylan responds to a heckler in the crowd who yells “play a protest song!” by stating “here’s one for ya”. He then goes on to play “Oh, Sister” – a lament on family discord from 1975’s Blood on the Tracks and a song which at first glance one would not equate to protestation. As the decade concluded, Bob Dylan’s Gospel years kicked in, which included songs that were not only full of strong Faith, but that also include solemn declarations, often in the form of dire warning about the implications of turning a blind eye to God: Protests in their own right.
I get it though: For 20 years or so, there was nary the same level of commitment from Bob Dylan to the political-protest spark that he ignited in the early -60s. However, Dylanologists should think of this more as a long hiatus rather than an abandonment, because in 1983, the man came back to this type of protest music with a vengeance, with his album Infidels. The title fits the mold, does it not? After all, Infidels was the first release on the tail end of that Gospel phase in Dylan’s career, and so considering these circumstances, what term would be more fitting to solemnly rail against someone or something?
I cannot recall how or when I got into Infidels, but it was relatively early in my fascination with all things Dylan. Most everyone has at least a mild curiosity in Bob Dylan, especially after his recent Nobel Prize recognition. However, if that mild curiosity is to blossom, as mine did, then it’s likely a keen interest in his early protest music helped spur that on. And yet, the thought that Dylan would truly abandon such strong convictions can be deflating to anyone trying to make these inroads. I mean, who abandons their principles other than the foolhardy? Alas, for me, it was Infidels that came to the rescue (although I would later figure there’s a lot more to it than that).
I view Infidels as an end-side bookend album. The beginning side of the bookend being 1978’s Street Legal. In between are Bob Dylan’s three Gospel albums: Slow Train Coming, Saved, and Shot of Love. I’ve recently contemplated these bookend albums as each having a cornerstone song. On Street Legal, it’s “Señor” and on Infidels it’s “Jokerman”, which is this entry’s focus tune ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XSvsFgvWr0 ). These songs are two of the most intense in Dylan’s vast catalog. “Jokerman” is both an appeal to and a condemnation of a soul gone astray. It’s from the viewpoint of a man who has experienced deep Christian Faith, and is articulated in a way that can only come from a someone who yearns to one day see the Promised Land. As for “Señor”, which was written just prior to Bob Dylan’s Gospel-album journey, well, I’ve already written about this in Master Blueprints # 5, but here is an excerpt from that entry that is most relevant to this one:
“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. Dylan was stuck in a sort of purgatory at that stage in his life, but soon he would be ready to break that mold.”
This week, I researched the setlist for a Bob Dylan concert that I witnessed from the 2nd row at the Orpheum Theatre in Boston in 1994. I did this tracking because I wanted to verify my recollection that Dylan opened the show with “Jokerman” (he did). I was already at least five years into my own journey with Infidels by the time so hearing this song live was a bit of a “Wow” moment for me. However, what really caught my eye after I retrieved the setlist was the second song Dylan played that evening; Señor (see Master Blueprint # 5). I was not yet familiar with this song at that time, so unfortunately, it did not reverberate. Now I see this back-to-back performance of these two relatively deep tracks (at least in terms of performance) and I think…. hmmm, maybe I’m on to something here.
Ok, so in terms of protestations on Infidels, I’d like to work my way up to “Jokerman”. Let me start with “Union Sundown”, a song about the erosion of hands-on American ingenuity, and one of two overtly political protest songs on the album (I try to refrain from political discourse in this blog series, but, I feel I’ve got no choice here). This being 1983, it’s clear Bob Dylan threw his hat in the ring early on in expressing disappointment about how “made in America” was going the way of the Dodo.
Ahh yes, the Reagan 80s. It’s all coming back now. Today, the rattling of cages on this issue is coming from staunch conservative circles, but “Union Sundown” hints at that mindset being what got us in this predicament in the first place, with populist lyrics like “you know, Capitalism is above the law”, and “the unions are big business friend, and their goin’ out like a dinosaur” and the refrain “sure was a good idea, ‘till greed got in the way”. Regardless, Bob Dylan was showing a concern for his Country in a way that any true blue American - no matter their political persuasion - could relate to.
Listening to “Union Sundown” this week, I was reminded of Bob Dylan’s “We…will build your car” 2014 Super Bowl commercial, promoting American made automobiles: ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zd18am6dc0Y ). If you don’t recall (or even if you do), give it a watch. It’s worth the 2 minutes.
The other overtly political protest on the album is “Neighborhood Bully”, which goes to bat for the unique geopolitical situation of the Jewish State. This is another position that seems to have been hijacked in recent years by staunch conservatism (while at the same time, conceivably abandoned by the liberal left). One could easily argue this was the case in 1983 as well, but that would be an over generalization. “Neighborhood Bully” was written only several years after the Iran hostage crisis, which was the first time America really felt it got burned by a Middle East country. Back then, there was a general mindset of having been the victim. Those were relatively innocent times to be an American. Today, after much retaliation, we are in a lot deeper with the Middle East, and we continue to ally ourselves with an assortment of strange bedfellows. Indeed, it’s a far more complex situation now, and yet, somehow, “Neighborhood Bully” does not sound dated in the least. However, the historical context must be factored in when listening.
“License to Kill” is right up there as another example of a powerful solemn declaration, taking Type A personalities to task by shining a light on the often-tragic failure of aggressive impatient behavior. To Bob Dylan’s courageous credit, the Type A personalities are represented in “License to Kill” as masculine, and the counterpoint rebuke - the Type B propensity for patience in other words - is represented as feminine. For a little more detail, I also wrote about this one in Master Blueprints # 8, which included a review of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers amazing performance of “License to Kill” at the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert in 1992.
The same masculine/feminine element plays out in “Sweetheart Like You”, the sweetheart in this case presumably being Mother Nature. Again, there’s populist protest playing out here, best articulated in the line:
“They say that patriotism is the last refuge
To which a scoundrel clings
Steal a little and they throw you in jail
Steal a lot on they make you king”
One key and somewhat unique aspect of Infidels is that it ties Bob Dylan’s secular-leaning concerns to his faith-focused ones. “I and I’, “Man of Peace” and “Jokerman” all lean closer to the faith vest. As with so many of Dylan’s works, these songs are packed with multi-layered spiritual meaning. All three have similar powerful messages, but “Jokerman” stands out. One way it stands out is in Bob Dylan’s vocals on the studio version. This song would only be interpreted as an indictment if just reading the lyrics, but the vocal delivery makes it also sound empathetic and hopeful, despite the depths of depravity that the singer is observing in the Jokerman character. This gives “Jokerman” more of a cathartic feel. It also raises the song to a truly Christian approach to protest. And finally, it brings to the fore why I love listening to Bob Dylan: He’s oh, so heavy, even dreadful here, but at the same time he’s oh so good for the soul. If you can negotiate this duality, you have yourself a treasure trove of musical chestnuts at your disposal throughout the depth and breadth of Dylan’s catalog.
I’m going to wrap with the following. I caught an interesting homily at Mass a month or so ago (yes, I am Catholic if you have not figured that already), where the priest, Father Jeremy, was reflecting on a reading he had just delivered from Acts of the Apostles (Acts 5:33-35). The passage is about the advice given by a well-respected Pharisee of the time named Gamaliel to the Sanhedrin (tribunals in the ancient land of Israel), who want to have the Apostles killed for speaking to crowds in Jesus name and for blaming these same Jewish leaders for His death. Gamaliel's Advice: “So in the present case I advise you: Leave these men alone. Let them go! For if their purpose or endeavor is of human origin, it will fail. But if from God, you will not be able to stop them. You may even find yourself fighting against God”.
The interesting take Father Jeremy had on this passage was that he was putting a positive spin on the fact that these leaders were engaging the Apostles, despite the engagement being of a seriously confrontational nature. His point being that by being so engaged, many of these Sanhedrin were showing passion, however misguided, which still gave them a fighting chance at finding truth. Father Jeremy then contrasted both the converted and those persecuting them, with others who remained unengaged and uninterested despite all this passion surrounding them in Jerusalem in those, the earliest days of Christianity. These were the ones, he stated, who were truly devoid of spirituality. These were the ones who had far less hope for redemption than even the nastiest of the Sanhedrin who were engaged.
This was what quickly came to mind after slipping Bob Dylan’s Infidels into my car’s cd player early this week and listening to that glorious opening salvo, “Jokerman”. Bob Dylan is basically singing about the same type of apathy that Father Jeremy was sermonizing on (for the record, the most political-protest lyric from my perspective being the evil-despot line “manipulator of crowds. You’re a dream twister”). There’s a lot of back and forth in “Jokerman”; a toggle from the holy to the unholy (a contrast that ends up driving home the lyrics at the end of the song, which I am unashamedly using for the title of this entry: “Oh, Jokerman, you know what He wants. Oh, Jokerman, you don’t show any response”). This, along with other elements, such as a need for a deep understanding of Biblical theology, can make the song confusing. But if you stick with the sentiment alone out of the gate, it will propel you forward with this incredible tune, as well as this very underrated album.
Well I never did tackle that early protest period. Soon enough I’m sure. However, after drafting this entry, I hope I’ve made the case that Bob Dylan has never really abandoned protest, and I don’t believe he thinks so either.
- Pete
Song: “Jokerman”
Album: Infidels
Release Date: Date: October 1983
One subject I’ve yet to focus much attention on in this series is Bob Dylan’s early 60s protest music, which was creatively portrayed as a persona (by Christian Bale) in the highly recommended and aptly-named movie I’m Not There (one of six Dylan personas in the film, each played by a different actor). Virtually every documentary of Bob Dylan I’ve ever read or watched includes at least one chapter or segment centered on this persona. Most of these documentaries put a bow on that period at about the time Dylan went all rock & roll electric on everyone near the middle of the decade, presumably abandoning protest music in the process. To be more specific, political protest – which is how Joan Baez once explained it. This distinction is important, because if defining ‘protest’ as “a solemn declaration” (which is at the nexus of the origin of the word) one could argue that Dylan would go on to protest all sorts of things as the 60s played out, from a bad work environment (“Maggie’s Farm”) to getting jilted (“She’s Your Lover Now”) to urban chaos (“Desolation Row”) to a prodigal daughter (“Tears of Rage”) to the consequences of apathy (“Too Much of Nothing”).
As the 70s rolled in, Bob Dylan did manage to weave back in the political-protest narrative here and there, including in his songs “Hurricane” and “Lenny Bruce”. All the while, his other forms of protest continued, which was made clear in a classic moment on the Bob Dylan Live, 1975 disc, (see the last three Master Blueprint entries centered on the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review Tour), where Dylan responds to a heckler in the crowd who yells “play a protest song!” by stating “here’s one for ya”. He then goes on to play “Oh, Sister” – a lament on family discord from 1975’s Blood on the Tracks and a song which at first glance one would not equate to protestation. As the decade concluded, Bob Dylan’s Gospel years kicked in, which included songs that were not only full of strong Faith, but that also include solemn declarations, often in the form of dire warning about the implications of turning a blind eye to God: Protests in their own right.
I get it though: For 20 years or so, there was nary the same level of commitment from Bob Dylan to the political-protest spark that he ignited in the early -60s. However, Dylanologists should think of this more as a long hiatus rather than an abandonment, because in 1983, the man came back to this type of protest music with a vengeance, with his album Infidels. The title fits the mold, does it not? After all, Infidels was the first release on the tail end of that Gospel phase in Dylan’s career, and so considering these circumstances, what term would be more fitting to solemnly rail against someone or something?
I cannot recall how or when I got into Infidels, but it was relatively early in my fascination with all things Dylan. Most everyone has at least a mild curiosity in Bob Dylan, especially after his recent Nobel Prize recognition. However, if that mild curiosity is to blossom, as mine did, then it’s likely a keen interest in his early protest music helped spur that on. And yet, the thought that Dylan would truly abandon such strong convictions can be deflating to anyone trying to make these inroads. I mean, who abandons their principles other than the foolhardy? Alas, for me, it was Infidels that came to the rescue (although I would later figure there’s a lot more to it than that).
I view Infidels as an end-side bookend album. The beginning side of the bookend being 1978’s Street Legal. In between are Bob Dylan’s three Gospel albums: Slow Train Coming, Saved, and Shot of Love. I’ve recently contemplated these bookend albums as each having a cornerstone song. On Street Legal, it’s “Señor” and on Infidels it’s “Jokerman”, which is this entry’s focus tune ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XSvsFgvWr0 ). These songs are two of the most intense in Dylan’s vast catalog. “Jokerman” is both an appeal to and a condemnation of a soul gone astray. It’s from the viewpoint of a man who has experienced deep Christian Faith, and is articulated in a way that can only come from a someone who yearns to one day see the Promised Land. As for “Señor”, which was written just prior to Bob Dylan’s Gospel-album journey, well, I’ve already written about this in Master Blueprints # 5, but here is an excerpt from that entry that is most relevant to this one:
“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. Dylan was stuck in a sort of purgatory at that stage in his life, but soon he would be ready to break that mold.”
This week, I researched the setlist for a Bob Dylan concert that I witnessed from the 2nd row at the Orpheum Theatre in Boston in 1994. I did this tracking because I wanted to verify my recollection that Dylan opened the show with “Jokerman” (he did). I was already at least five years into my own journey with Infidels by the time so hearing this song live was a bit of a “Wow” moment for me. However, what really caught my eye after I retrieved the setlist was the second song Dylan played that evening; Señor (see Master Blueprint # 5). I was not yet familiar with this song at that time, so unfortunately, it did not reverberate. Now I see this back-to-back performance of these two relatively deep tracks (at least in terms of performance) and I think…. hmmm, maybe I’m on to something here.
Ok, so in terms of protestations on Infidels, I’d like to work my way up to “Jokerman”. Let me start with “Union Sundown”, a song about the erosion of hands-on American ingenuity, and one of two overtly political protest songs on the album (I try to refrain from political discourse in this blog series, but, I feel I’ve got no choice here). This being 1983, it’s clear Bob Dylan threw his hat in the ring early on in expressing disappointment about how “made in America” was going the way of the Dodo.
Ahh yes, the Reagan 80s. It’s all coming back now. Today, the rattling of cages on this issue is coming from staunch conservative circles, but “Union Sundown” hints at that mindset being what got us in this predicament in the first place, with populist lyrics like “you know, Capitalism is above the law”, and “the unions are big business friend, and their goin’ out like a dinosaur” and the refrain “sure was a good idea, ‘till greed got in the way”. Regardless, Bob Dylan was showing a concern for his Country in a way that any true blue American - no matter their political persuasion - could relate to.
Listening to “Union Sundown” this week, I was reminded of Bob Dylan’s “We…will build your car” 2014 Super Bowl commercial, promoting American made automobiles: ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zd18am6dc0Y ). If you don’t recall (or even if you do), give it a watch. It’s worth the 2 minutes.
The other overtly political protest on the album is “Neighborhood Bully”, which goes to bat for the unique geopolitical situation of the Jewish State. This is another position that seems to have been hijacked in recent years by staunch conservatism (while at the same time, conceivably abandoned by the liberal left). One could easily argue this was the case in 1983 as well, but that would be an over generalization. “Neighborhood Bully” was written only several years after the Iran hostage crisis, which was the first time America really felt it got burned by a Middle East country. Back then, there was a general mindset of having been the victim. Those were relatively innocent times to be an American. Today, after much retaliation, we are in a lot deeper with the Middle East, and we continue to ally ourselves with an assortment of strange bedfellows. Indeed, it’s a far more complex situation now, and yet, somehow, “Neighborhood Bully” does not sound dated in the least. However, the historical context must be factored in when listening.
“License to Kill” is right up there as another example of a powerful solemn declaration, taking Type A personalities to task by shining a light on the often-tragic failure of aggressive impatient behavior. To Bob Dylan’s courageous credit, the Type A personalities are represented in “License to Kill” as masculine, and the counterpoint rebuke - the Type B propensity for patience in other words - is represented as feminine. For a little more detail, I also wrote about this one in Master Blueprints # 8, which included a review of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers amazing performance of “License to Kill” at the Bob Dylan 30th Anniversary Concert in 1992.
The same masculine/feminine element plays out in “Sweetheart Like You”, the sweetheart in this case presumably being Mother Nature. Again, there’s populist protest playing out here, best articulated in the line:
“They say that patriotism is the last refuge
To which a scoundrel clings
Steal a little and they throw you in jail
Steal a lot on they make you king”
One key and somewhat unique aspect of Infidels is that it ties Bob Dylan’s secular-leaning concerns to his faith-focused ones. “I and I’, “Man of Peace” and “Jokerman” all lean closer to the faith vest. As with so many of Dylan’s works, these songs are packed with multi-layered spiritual meaning. All three have similar powerful messages, but “Jokerman” stands out. One way it stands out is in Bob Dylan’s vocals on the studio version. This song would only be interpreted as an indictment if just reading the lyrics, but the vocal delivery makes it also sound empathetic and hopeful, despite the depths of depravity that the singer is observing in the Jokerman character. This gives “Jokerman” more of a cathartic feel. It also raises the song to a truly Christian approach to protest. And finally, it brings to the fore why I love listening to Bob Dylan: He’s oh, so heavy, even dreadful here, but at the same time he’s oh so good for the soul. If you can negotiate this duality, you have yourself a treasure trove of musical chestnuts at your disposal throughout the depth and breadth of Dylan’s catalog.
I’m going to wrap with the following. I caught an interesting homily at Mass a month or so ago (yes, I am Catholic if you have not figured that already), where the priest, Father Jeremy, was reflecting on a reading he had just delivered from Acts of the Apostles (Acts 5:33-35). The passage is about the advice given by a well-respected Pharisee of the time named Gamaliel to the Sanhedrin (tribunals in the ancient land of Israel), who want to have the Apostles killed for speaking to crowds in Jesus name and for blaming these same Jewish leaders for His death. Gamaliel's Advice: “So in the present case I advise you: Leave these men alone. Let them go! For if their purpose or endeavor is of human origin, it will fail. But if from God, you will not be able to stop them. You may even find yourself fighting against God”.
The interesting take Father Jeremy had on this passage was that he was putting a positive spin on the fact that these leaders were engaging the Apostles, despite the engagement being of a seriously confrontational nature. His point being that by being so engaged, many of these Sanhedrin were showing passion, however misguided, which still gave them a fighting chance at finding truth. Father Jeremy then contrasted both the converted and those persecuting them, with others who remained unengaged and uninterested despite all this passion surrounding them in Jerusalem in those, the earliest days of Christianity. These were the ones, he stated, who were truly devoid of spirituality. These were the ones who had far less hope for redemption than even the nastiest of the Sanhedrin who were engaged.
This was what quickly came to mind after slipping Bob Dylan’s Infidels into my car’s cd player early this week and listening to that glorious opening salvo, “Jokerman”. Bob Dylan is basically singing about the same type of apathy that Father Jeremy was sermonizing on (for the record, the most political-protest lyric from my perspective being the evil-despot line “manipulator of crowds. You’re a dream twister”). There’s a lot of back and forth in “Jokerman”; a toggle from the holy to the unholy (a contrast that ends up driving home the lyrics at the end of the song, which I am unashamedly using for the title of this entry: “Oh, Jokerman, you know what He wants. Oh, Jokerman, you don’t show any response”). This, along with other elements, such as a need for a deep understanding of Biblical theology, can make the song confusing. But if you stick with the sentiment alone out of the gate, it will propel you forward with this incredible tune, as well as this very underrated album.
Well I never did tackle that early protest period. Soon enough I’m sure. However, after drafting this entry, I hope I’ve made the case that Bob Dylan has never really abandoned protest, and I don’t believe he thinks so either.
- Pete
Saturday, May 26, 2018
Master Blueprints # 20: “All Rubin’s Cards Were Marked in Advance, the Trial Was a Pig-Circus He Never Had a Chance”
(Personal reflections
inspired by Bob Dylan songs)
Song: “Hurricane”
Album: Desire
Release Date: Date: January 1976
Part 3 of 3 (see Master Blueprint #’s 18 and 19 for the first two installments of this 3-part mini-series of personal thoughts inspired by the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Revue tour in 1975, which consisted of 24 locales in the Northeast; 1/3 of which took place in my home State of Massachusetts. Eight locales are covered for each of the 3 entries).
November 24, Hartford, Connecticut: Hartford Civic Center
The last 8 shows on the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review tour would find the ensemble spreading their wings some geographically, but continuing to orbit around my home State of Massachusetts. The next stop after the second stretch of Boston-area shows (see last entry) was the capital city of Connecticut. My Mom’s endearing sister Marie lived in Hartford most of her life. My brother Joe got married to his lovely wife Monica in her nearby West Hartford hometown on a pristine fall day in 1989. Another great memory of the area had my wife Nancy and I taking the kids to nearby Dinosaur State Park in the winter of 2001, where their lifelong love of natural history was significantly stimulated (the year of that excursion is easy to remember because we carried on to New York City afterward, where we enjoyed many Big Apple highlights, including the Statue of Liberty: A photo of us on the Staten Island Ferry, with the Twin Towers as a backdrop is a refrigerator-door keeper, but it is also an eerie reminder of what would occur just a few months later).
I’ve made the trek to Hartford for work on numerous occasions, staying overnight a few times for the rare multi-day meeting. Great restaurants, great company. One of the biggest Bob Dylan fans I’ve ever known, Steve Grady, worked in our Hartford office during my first 2 decades at USGS, and has long since retired. As a child of the 60s, Steve attended many-a Bob Dylan shows, including the infamous 1965 Newport Folk Festival where Dylan went electric (if I recall correctly, he also attended several of the Rolling Thunder Review shows too). It was always a treat to get Steve’s take on Bob Dylan, since I did not have any other long-term personal context in my life on this brilliant musician. I’d like to believe that Steve appreciated my younger, upcoming angle on all-things-Dylan too.
This week I did some research on the set lists of shows on the Rolling Thunder Review tour, after observing that the Hard Rain album - consisting solely of music from the 2nd leg - has a more heavy, personal, melancholy vibe than the Bob Dylan Live, 1975 album, consisting solely of music from the first leg. For example, when I listen to “You’re a Big Girl Now” or “I Threw It All Away” off Hard Rain, I can’t help but feel the pain coming through in Bob Dylan’s vocals. Had the end of the road with his wife Sara become more evident as the tour progressed? Possibly related: I have not done a tally, but I’m thinking Bob Dylan performed more songs from “Blood on the Tracks” on the second leg, which as Dylan fans know, is his breakup album. As such, I can’t help but disagree with Larry Stoman’s otherwise excellent liner notes in the Bob Dylan Live, 1975 booklet, where he hints that the second leg of the tour lacked the energy of the first. I think it was simply more personally heavy for Dylan, but he was able to convey those emotions in the same awe-inspiring way that he was able to covey exuberance and protest during the first leg.
“Bird on the horizon, sittin' on a fence
Song: “Hurricane”
Album: Desire
Release Date: Date: January 1976
Part 3 of 3 (see Master Blueprint #’s 18 and 19 for the first two installments of this 3-part mini-series of personal thoughts inspired by the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Revue tour in 1975, which consisted of 24 locales in the Northeast; 1/3 of which took place in my home State of Massachusetts. Eight locales are covered for each of the 3 entries).
November 24, Hartford, Connecticut: Hartford Civic Center
The last 8 shows on the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review tour would find the ensemble spreading their wings some geographically, but continuing to orbit around my home State of Massachusetts. The next stop after the second stretch of Boston-area shows (see last entry) was the capital city of Connecticut. My Mom’s endearing sister Marie lived in Hartford most of her life. My brother Joe got married to his lovely wife Monica in her nearby West Hartford hometown on a pristine fall day in 1989. Another great memory of the area had my wife Nancy and I taking the kids to nearby Dinosaur State Park in the winter of 2001, where their lifelong love of natural history was significantly stimulated (the year of that excursion is easy to remember because we carried on to New York City afterward, where we enjoyed many Big Apple highlights, including the Statue of Liberty: A photo of us on the Staten Island Ferry, with the Twin Towers as a backdrop is a refrigerator-door keeper, but it is also an eerie reminder of what would occur just a few months later).
I’ve made the trek to Hartford for work on numerous occasions, staying overnight a few times for the rare multi-day meeting. Great restaurants, great company. One of the biggest Bob Dylan fans I’ve ever known, Steve Grady, worked in our Hartford office during my first 2 decades at USGS, and has long since retired. As a child of the 60s, Steve attended many-a Bob Dylan shows, including the infamous 1965 Newport Folk Festival where Dylan went electric (if I recall correctly, he also attended several of the Rolling Thunder Review shows too). It was always a treat to get Steve’s take on Bob Dylan, since I did not have any other long-term personal context in my life on this brilliant musician. I’d like to believe that Steve appreciated my younger, upcoming angle on all-things-Dylan too.
This week I did some research on the set lists of shows on the Rolling Thunder Review tour, after observing that the Hard Rain album - consisting solely of music from the 2nd leg - has a more heavy, personal, melancholy vibe than the Bob Dylan Live, 1975 album, consisting solely of music from the first leg. For example, when I listen to “You’re a Big Girl Now” or “I Threw It All Away” off Hard Rain, I can’t help but feel the pain coming through in Bob Dylan’s vocals. Had the end of the road with his wife Sara become more evident as the tour progressed? Possibly related: I have not done a tally, but I’m thinking Bob Dylan performed more songs from “Blood on the Tracks” on the second leg, which as Dylan fans know, is his breakup album. As such, I can’t help but disagree with Larry Stoman’s otherwise excellent liner notes in the Bob Dylan Live, 1975 booklet, where he hints that the second leg of the tour lacked the energy of the first. I think it was simply more personally heavy for Dylan, but he was able to convey those emotions in the same awe-inspiring way that he was able to covey exuberance and protest during the first leg.
“Bird on the horizon, sittin' on a fence
He's singin' his song for me at his own expense
And I'm just like that bird, oh
Singin' just for you
I hope that you can hear
Hear me singin' through these tears” --- “You’re a Big Girl Now”
November 26, Augusta, Maine: Augusta Civic Center
Maine was the last of the six New England states visited by the Rolling Thunder Review. It’s a state with an amazing range of natural beauty. I hate to say it, but the capitol city of Augusta itself is not much to write home about…the larger Maine city of Portland, an hour or so ‘down east’ has significantly more character. Augusta’s capitol dome is darn impressive, though. And if you make your way along the Kennebec River for a short stretch you will stumble upon the hip hamlet of Hallowell, home to several classic downtown pubs, including the Liberal Cup and the Quarry Tap Room.
Augusta does have a crown jewel, however; the aforementioned Kennebec River, which was relieved of its last major dam in July 1999. I was there to witness this, along with Bruce Babbitt, the then Secretary of the Interior, and many others. At that moment the river’s natural state was freed up for the first time in over a century and a half. Since then Augusta has witnessed a river transforming back to the anadromous fish habitat it once was.
Having listened 3 straight weeks to music from the Rolling Thunder Review tour, I’ve picked up on a handful of individual musical highlights, including 1) Rob Stoner’s bass on the Hard Rain version of “Shelter from the Storm” 2) Scarlett Rivera violin on “One Too Many Mornings” and “Hurricane” 3) Mick Ronson’s guitar during the musical bridges of “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” (along with Stoner’s bass) and 4) Howard Wyeth’s drumming throughout. For the most part though, it was an all ensemble effort all the time. And these musicians were not just there to backup Bob Dylan; they were tuned into the emotional sway that played out from song to song. Case in point, Wyeth imitates a judge’s gavel pounding just after Bob Dylan utters the lyrics “In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel” in “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” and during “Isis” he imitates the sound of a dead body being rolled into a ditch as Dylan sings “I picked up his body and I dragged him inside, threw him down in the hole and I put back the cover”. And Mick Ronson imitates thunder on his guitar as Dylan sings “was that the thunder that I heard” during “Romance in Durango”. These are but small samples of how zoned in the musicians were; and of course, none of them more so than Bob Dylan himself.
“Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, baby blue” --- “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue”
November 27, Bangor, Maine: Bangor Municipal Auditorium
I’ve always thought of Bangor as the gateway to Maine’s Great North Woods. It’s the last significantly populated area in Maine before hitting the vastness of the hinterlands to the north that includes Baxter State Park, Moosehead Lake, the Allagash Wilderness Waterway and Maine’s highest peak, Mount Katahdin (which includes one of the most spectacular stretches of trail along its “Knife Edge”). Bangor is also the gateway east to the splendid beauty of Acadia National Park. I’ve had the privilege of enjoying each one of these regions and then some.
The Allagash River on the far northern edge of Maine is so remote and isolated that once you are portaged upstream to the launch point on rugged dirt roads, it requires 4-5 days of strenuous canoeing to get back to any semblance of human habitation. One of the most lasting images of my life was at dusk about halfway back to civilization, turning around to catch a moose crossing the Allagash, with the enormity of the red setting sun behind him. A snapshot in time.
The Rolling Thunder Bangor show was performed on Thanksgiving, 1975. One year later, on the very same holiday, Bob Dylan would be the most special of special guests at The Band’s Last Waltz concert. There were a lot of famous musicians at these two events, but off the top of my head, the only other musician other than Dylan who was at both was Joni Mitchell. Anyhow, there’s a little Dylan trivia for ya.
“I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the axe just fell” --- “Tangled Up in Blue”
November 29, Quebec City, Quebec: Colisée de Québec
I’ve had the good fortune of getting to know the Quebecois over the years through school and work connections, and despite the fact it’s the one province in Canada that is predominantly French speaking, there’s a New England affinity with these people that can be hard to explain. I believe much of this is due to a shared Northeast experience. Before I recognized this affinity in my Quebec neighbors, I would have thought the ‘Bostonian mentality’ was something unique to my own more immediate neck of the woods. The similarities? Well, one example is there’s a bit of the wisecrack in the Quebecois: You must be on your toes, at least early in any given conversation. The aggressive driving is also familiar. So too is the jaywalking. Most important, there is a shared sense of humor.
Quebec City is the only Old-World-feel city in North America. It’s walled. Many of its oldest structures are built of mortar and rock. The food is exquisite. The history, relatively speaking for the New World, is …. older. One of my most recent visits there was on a Father-Son excursion with my Dad. It was an invaluable and extremely memorable opportunity to have one on one time with my Pop for 4 days. After two days in the old city, we headed further up the St. Lawrence River to the mouth of the Saguenay River, where a boat tour of this deep-water fjord had us witnessing Beluga Whales bobbing up and down in the water by the hundreds, their all-white bodies easily mistaken for wave caps to the untrained eye. The St. Lawrence River is the center of the Quebecois world: A prized possession of countless gems along it’s valley, much of which is not-well-advertised (I’m thinking intentionally) to the outside world.
The set list for Bob Dylan’s portion of the show in Quebec City included “I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine” and “Dark as a Dungeon”, each of which were played a dozen times or so on the tour. Other songs that were not quite as common on the tour included, “Catfish”, and “Walls of Red Wing”, “Seven Days” and “I Pity the Poor Immigrant” and “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts”. The only musician I know who could have gotten all the lyrics to that last one down would be Mr. Dylan himself.
“Backstage the girls were playin' five-card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens, she was hopin' for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets were fillin' up, the window was open wide
A gentle breeze was blowin', you could feel it from inside
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts” --- “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts”
December 1-2, Toronto, Ontario: Maple Leaf Gardens
In terms of Rock and Roll music hubs, Toronto had its own big thing going in the early 60s, particularly on Yonge Street. Joni Mitchell, Ronnie Hawkins (his band consisting of what eventually would become The Band), Stephen Stills, and Neil Young were all part of the scene. One could argue that, at the time, it was as hot as it gets. For this and other reasons, it was no wonder why bands like the Who and the Rolling Stones found Toronto to be like a home away from home: That early 60’s scene greased the skids.
The first time I was in Toronto was 1980 when I vacationed with my parents and siblings across Upper State New York and Ontario in a motorhome RV. I remember the year for 2 reasons. First, I recall watching the Republican National Convention on a tiny tv in the camper on the shores of Lake Ontario in a campground just outside Toronto (Reagan trying to talk Ford into being his VP). Why I was interested in this at the age of 17, I can only speculate. Second, it was the summer before my going off to college, and I was struggling to determine a major. This trip was when I first mentally connected with a natural skillset I had related to mapping and navigation, seeing as my Dad endlessly required a co-pilot to get from point a to point b, and it appeared I had the knack. This would end up leading to my career path in the world of geospatial (GIS) analysis
The story goes that “One More Cup of Coffee” was written about a Bob Dylan experience in France, but I cannot help but hear a Spanish influence in this song, particularly Mexico. Same obviously with “Romance in Durango”. I also sense a connection between Bob Dylan’s 1973 Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, and his Desire album. Dylan spent a lot of time in Mexico during the making of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. Was the Desire album partly an attempt to finish something he started 2 years earlier?
“Your breath is sweet
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky
Your back is straight; your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie” --- “One More Cup of Coffee”
December 4, Montreal, Quebec: Montreal Forum
Here’s a Montreal memory: Great friend, Mac and I made the trek to Ottawa – 2 hours further west - in late winter, 1983, to reconnect with my Carleton University crowd (where I spent the previous year on an exchange program) for a long weekend. I hitchhiked from North Adams, Massachusetts, up Rte. 7 in western Vermont and met up with Mac in Burlington, Vermont. The two of us then continued the hitching to Montreal (a story in itself) where Bob Mainguy, another great lifelong friend, picked us up by driving the 2 hours from Carleton (having appreciated our effort to get that far). After a stellar weekend, Mac and I took a bus back to Montreal, where we planned to take another bus to Burlington. When we arrived in Montreal, however, we had a change of heart. The decision to stay put was at least partially due to the outrageous cost of the bus tickets to Burlington, but was also driven by not wanting to miss an opportunity to take in the Montreal night life. Fine enough, but these were the days before bank cards, and neither of us had credit cards. We had just enough cash between us for a few beers. Finding a place to stay? How to get out of the city the next day? We would figure all that out later.
We helped close Wellington Street, and when we walked out of the last pub of the night, it was pouring out. A local YMCA proved impossible to get into. After roaming the streets for a while, we came up with a thought: McGill University. A TV lounge, perhaps? Sure enough, we found a dorm, but the door was locked. Somehow, we were able to get in (I remember a security guard, a student, a shrub and a skunk, not necessarily in that order). We then made a B-line for the lounge, where we angled the couches to face the opposite wall. This was to prove insightful seeing as before falling asleep, I watched as a night-patrol flashlight scan of the room passed overhead. The next day we slipped off campus early, split a breakfast, and spent the remainder of our cash on a subway ride over the St. Lawrence River, where a highway awaited our thumbs pointed south.
After listening to live Rolling Thunder these past weeks, I’m now thinking Bob Dylan may have been better off not releasing a studio album for Desire. The best of that album was fleshed out live on the tour, before the studio album was released. Desire could have been a live album, like Neil Young’s Time Fades Away, or Rust Never Sleeps albums. In Young’s case it’s clear that this is the way these songs were meant to be heard. And from what I’ve read (and heard now), the studio version of the Desire songs pales in comparison to what was witnessed on stage.
“I was thinkin' about turquoise, I was thinkin' about gold
I was thinkin' about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace
As we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold
I was thinkin' about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless” --- “Isis”
December 7, Clinton, New Jersey: Clinton Correctional Facility
So, here’s where things start getting a little more serious. Granted Bob Dylan was making a case throughout the tour in word, deed and song for Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, a black boxer convicted of the crime of murder, which he would later be acquitted of (in great part thanks to this tour). But at the Clinton Correctional Facility, where Carter was incarcerated, as well as the last stop on the first leg of the tour in New York City’s Madison Square Garden, the focus on injustice would get ratcheted up significantly. Dylan visited “the Hurricane” in prison, and played to inmates while there too. The subsequent Madison Square Garden show would be a charity event to raise money for Carter’s defense.
Clinton New Jersey is close to the Pennsylvania border. Its where Bob Dylan and friends honored a moral Christian code by visiting the imprisoned. Another angle of that moral code is sheltering the poor. Coincidentally, my most significant memory of the area was in nearby Reading PA, where I spent a week with my daughter on a mission trip, doing our small part to help rebuild some of the lowest-income sections of that beleaguered city on the Schuylkill River. Commitments like these can change a person.
There’s some good footage in the movie Renaldo and Clara of Rolling Thunder Review’s visit to the Clinton Correctional Facility, which includes Rubin Carter speaking in his own defense. The scenes of the band performing in the prison reminds me of the great closing scene in Walk the Line when Joaquin Phoenix reenacts the famous Johnny Cash concert for inmates at Folsom Prison in 1968. I’m sure Bob Dylan was inspired by his good friend Cash in this regard.
“Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin’ that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world” – “Hurricane”
( http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x59y679 )
December 8, New York City, New York: Madison Square Garden
The Massachusetts-centric first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review tour ended in New York City. Go figure! But hey, us outward-bound Bostonians can appreciate the Big Apple on occasion. Besides, it was Bob Dylan’s home turf in those days, and of course where his career took off. And so, I believe it was apropos that the best tour of Dylan’s career would end in New York, as a charity event for a black boxer, with the goal of releasing him from jail for a crime he did not commit.
The seven times I’ve spent more than one day in New York City have all been incredible adventures. I briefly discussed several in this 3-part series already. Two others were fleshed out in their own blog entries, the first of which kinda comes at you from a boxer’s angle, which I wrote back in 2008 ( http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2008/09/gmvw-36.html ). The second included discussion points on my only visit to Madison Square Garden, to see the Who perform Quadrophenia ( http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2016/02/under-big-top-9-symphony-of-four.html ). So obviously, New York has influenced me. There’s no other place like it that I know of.
That’s it for my 3-part whirlwind summary of the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review Tour, and the memories jarred out of me in relation to reading up on the tour stops. Listening to Hard Rain and Bob Dylan Live, 1975 these past 3 weeks has me more convinced than ever that this Gypsy Caravan was living out something the Beatles envisioned in 1967. Yes, this was the real Magical Mystery Tour. I wish I was about five years older at the time. I’m guessing I would have been there.
Back to the regular single part series next time.
- Pete
And I'm just like that bird, oh
Singin' just for you
I hope that you can hear
Hear me singin' through these tears” --- “You’re a Big Girl Now”
November 26, Augusta, Maine: Augusta Civic Center
Maine was the last of the six New England states visited by the Rolling Thunder Review. It’s a state with an amazing range of natural beauty. I hate to say it, but the capitol city of Augusta itself is not much to write home about…the larger Maine city of Portland, an hour or so ‘down east’ has significantly more character. Augusta’s capitol dome is darn impressive, though. And if you make your way along the Kennebec River for a short stretch you will stumble upon the hip hamlet of Hallowell, home to several classic downtown pubs, including the Liberal Cup and the Quarry Tap Room.
Augusta does have a crown jewel, however; the aforementioned Kennebec River, which was relieved of its last major dam in July 1999. I was there to witness this, along with Bruce Babbitt, the then Secretary of the Interior, and many others. At that moment the river’s natural state was freed up for the first time in over a century and a half. Since then Augusta has witnessed a river transforming back to the anadromous fish habitat it once was.
Having listened 3 straight weeks to music from the Rolling Thunder Review tour, I’ve picked up on a handful of individual musical highlights, including 1) Rob Stoner’s bass on the Hard Rain version of “Shelter from the Storm” 2) Scarlett Rivera violin on “One Too Many Mornings” and “Hurricane” 3) Mick Ronson’s guitar during the musical bridges of “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” (along with Stoner’s bass) and 4) Howard Wyeth’s drumming throughout. For the most part though, it was an all ensemble effort all the time. And these musicians were not just there to backup Bob Dylan; they were tuned into the emotional sway that played out from song to song. Case in point, Wyeth imitates a judge’s gavel pounding just after Bob Dylan utters the lyrics “In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel” in “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” and during “Isis” he imitates the sound of a dead body being rolled into a ditch as Dylan sings “I picked up his body and I dragged him inside, threw him down in the hole and I put back the cover”. And Mick Ronson imitates thunder on his guitar as Dylan sings “was that the thunder that I heard” during “Romance in Durango”. These are but small samples of how zoned in the musicians were; and of course, none of them more so than Bob Dylan himself.
“Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, baby blue” --- “It’s All Over Now Baby Blue”
November 27, Bangor, Maine: Bangor Municipal Auditorium
I’ve always thought of Bangor as the gateway to Maine’s Great North Woods. It’s the last significantly populated area in Maine before hitting the vastness of the hinterlands to the north that includes Baxter State Park, Moosehead Lake, the Allagash Wilderness Waterway and Maine’s highest peak, Mount Katahdin (which includes one of the most spectacular stretches of trail along its “Knife Edge”). Bangor is also the gateway east to the splendid beauty of Acadia National Park. I’ve had the privilege of enjoying each one of these regions and then some.
The Allagash River on the far northern edge of Maine is so remote and isolated that once you are portaged upstream to the launch point on rugged dirt roads, it requires 4-5 days of strenuous canoeing to get back to any semblance of human habitation. One of the most lasting images of my life was at dusk about halfway back to civilization, turning around to catch a moose crossing the Allagash, with the enormity of the red setting sun behind him. A snapshot in time.
The Rolling Thunder Bangor show was performed on Thanksgiving, 1975. One year later, on the very same holiday, Bob Dylan would be the most special of special guests at The Band’s Last Waltz concert. There were a lot of famous musicians at these two events, but off the top of my head, the only other musician other than Dylan who was at both was Joni Mitchell. Anyhow, there’s a little Dylan trivia for ya.
“I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the axe just fell” --- “Tangled Up in Blue”
November 29, Quebec City, Quebec: Colisée de Québec
I’ve had the good fortune of getting to know the Quebecois over the years through school and work connections, and despite the fact it’s the one province in Canada that is predominantly French speaking, there’s a New England affinity with these people that can be hard to explain. I believe much of this is due to a shared Northeast experience. Before I recognized this affinity in my Quebec neighbors, I would have thought the ‘Bostonian mentality’ was something unique to my own more immediate neck of the woods. The similarities? Well, one example is there’s a bit of the wisecrack in the Quebecois: You must be on your toes, at least early in any given conversation. The aggressive driving is also familiar. So too is the jaywalking. Most important, there is a shared sense of humor.
Quebec City is the only Old-World-feel city in North America. It’s walled. Many of its oldest structures are built of mortar and rock. The food is exquisite. The history, relatively speaking for the New World, is …. older. One of my most recent visits there was on a Father-Son excursion with my Dad. It was an invaluable and extremely memorable opportunity to have one on one time with my Pop for 4 days. After two days in the old city, we headed further up the St. Lawrence River to the mouth of the Saguenay River, where a boat tour of this deep-water fjord had us witnessing Beluga Whales bobbing up and down in the water by the hundreds, their all-white bodies easily mistaken for wave caps to the untrained eye. The St. Lawrence River is the center of the Quebecois world: A prized possession of countless gems along it’s valley, much of which is not-well-advertised (I’m thinking intentionally) to the outside world.
The set list for Bob Dylan’s portion of the show in Quebec City included “I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine” and “Dark as a Dungeon”, each of which were played a dozen times or so on the tour. Other songs that were not quite as common on the tour included, “Catfish”, and “Walls of Red Wing”, “Seven Days” and “I Pity the Poor Immigrant” and “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts”. The only musician I know who could have gotten all the lyrics to that last one down would be Mr. Dylan himself.
“Backstage the girls were playin' five-card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens, she was hopin' for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets were fillin' up, the window was open wide
A gentle breeze was blowin', you could feel it from inside
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts” --- “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts”
December 1-2, Toronto, Ontario: Maple Leaf Gardens
In terms of Rock and Roll music hubs, Toronto had its own big thing going in the early 60s, particularly on Yonge Street. Joni Mitchell, Ronnie Hawkins (his band consisting of what eventually would become The Band), Stephen Stills, and Neil Young were all part of the scene. One could argue that, at the time, it was as hot as it gets. For this and other reasons, it was no wonder why bands like the Who and the Rolling Stones found Toronto to be like a home away from home: That early 60’s scene greased the skids.
The first time I was in Toronto was 1980 when I vacationed with my parents and siblings across Upper State New York and Ontario in a motorhome RV. I remember the year for 2 reasons. First, I recall watching the Republican National Convention on a tiny tv in the camper on the shores of Lake Ontario in a campground just outside Toronto (Reagan trying to talk Ford into being his VP). Why I was interested in this at the age of 17, I can only speculate. Second, it was the summer before my going off to college, and I was struggling to determine a major. This trip was when I first mentally connected with a natural skillset I had related to mapping and navigation, seeing as my Dad endlessly required a co-pilot to get from point a to point b, and it appeared I had the knack. This would end up leading to my career path in the world of geospatial (GIS) analysis
The story goes that “One More Cup of Coffee” was written about a Bob Dylan experience in France, but I cannot help but hear a Spanish influence in this song, particularly Mexico. Same obviously with “Romance in Durango”. I also sense a connection between Bob Dylan’s 1973 Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, and his Desire album. Dylan spent a lot of time in Mexico during the making of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. Was the Desire album partly an attempt to finish something he started 2 years earlier?
“Your breath is sweet
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky
Your back is straight; your hair is smooth
On the pillow where you lie” --- “One More Cup of Coffee”
December 4, Montreal, Quebec: Montreal Forum
Here’s a Montreal memory: Great friend, Mac and I made the trek to Ottawa – 2 hours further west - in late winter, 1983, to reconnect with my Carleton University crowd (where I spent the previous year on an exchange program) for a long weekend. I hitchhiked from North Adams, Massachusetts, up Rte. 7 in western Vermont and met up with Mac in Burlington, Vermont. The two of us then continued the hitching to Montreal (a story in itself) where Bob Mainguy, another great lifelong friend, picked us up by driving the 2 hours from Carleton (having appreciated our effort to get that far). After a stellar weekend, Mac and I took a bus back to Montreal, where we planned to take another bus to Burlington. When we arrived in Montreal, however, we had a change of heart. The decision to stay put was at least partially due to the outrageous cost of the bus tickets to Burlington, but was also driven by not wanting to miss an opportunity to take in the Montreal night life. Fine enough, but these were the days before bank cards, and neither of us had credit cards. We had just enough cash between us for a few beers. Finding a place to stay? How to get out of the city the next day? We would figure all that out later.
We helped close Wellington Street, and when we walked out of the last pub of the night, it was pouring out. A local YMCA proved impossible to get into. After roaming the streets for a while, we came up with a thought: McGill University. A TV lounge, perhaps? Sure enough, we found a dorm, but the door was locked. Somehow, we were able to get in (I remember a security guard, a student, a shrub and a skunk, not necessarily in that order). We then made a B-line for the lounge, where we angled the couches to face the opposite wall. This was to prove insightful seeing as before falling asleep, I watched as a night-patrol flashlight scan of the room passed overhead. The next day we slipped off campus early, split a breakfast, and spent the remainder of our cash on a subway ride over the St. Lawrence River, where a highway awaited our thumbs pointed south.
After listening to live Rolling Thunder these past weeks, I’m now thinking Bob Dylan may have been better off not releasing a studio album for Desire. The best of that album was fleshed out live on the tour, before the studio album was released. Desire could have been a live album, like Neil Young’s Time Fades Away, or Rust Never Sleeps albums. In Young’s case it’s clear that this is the way these songs were meant to be heard. And from what I’ve read (and heard now), the studio version of the Desire songs pales in comparison to what was witnessed on stage.
“I was thinkin' about turquoise, I was thinkin' about gold
I was thinkin' about diamonds and the world's biggest necklace
As we rode through the canyons, through the devilish cold
I was thinkin' about Isis, how she thought I was so reckless” --- “Isis”
December 7, Clinton, New Jersey: Clinton Correctional Facility
So, here’s where things start getting a little more serious. Granted Bob Dylan was making a case throughout the tour in word, deed and song for Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, a black boxer convicted of the crime of murder, which he would later be acquitted of (in great part thanks to this tour). But at the Clinton Correctional Facility, where Carter was incarcerated, as well as the last stop on the first leg of the tour in New York City’s Madison Square Garden, the focus on injustice would get ratcheted up significantly. Dylan visited “the Hurricane” in prison, and played to inmates while there too. The subsequent Madison Square Garden show would be a charity event to raise money for Carter’s defense.
Clinton New Jersey is close to the Pennsylvania border. Its where Bob Dylan and friends honored a moral Christian code by visiting the imprisoned. Another angle of that moral code is sheltering the poor. Coincidentally, my most significant memory of the area was in nearby Reading PA, where I spent a week with my daughter on a mission trip, doing our small part to help rebuild some of the lowest-income sections of that beleaguered city on the Schuylkill River. Commitments like these can change a person.
There’s some good footage in the movie Renaldo and Clara of Rolling Thunder Review’s visit to the Clinton Correctional Facility, which includes Rubin Carter speaking in his own defense. The scenes of the band performing in the prison reminds me of the great closing scene in Walk the Line when Joaquin Phoenix reenacts the famous Johnny Cash concert for inmates at Folsom Prison in 1968. I’m sure Bob Dylan was inspired by his good friend Cash in this regard.
“Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin’ that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world” – “Hurricane”
( http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x59y679 )
December 8, New York City, New York: Madison Square Garden
The Massachusetts-centric first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review tour ended in New York City. Go figure! But hey, us outward-bound Bostonians can appreciate the Big Apple on occasion. Besides, it was Bob Dylan’s home turf in those days, and of course where his career took off. And so, I believe it was apropos that the best tour of Dylan’s career would end in New York, as a charity event for a black boxer, with the goal of releasing him from jail for a crime he did not commit.
The seven times I’ve spent more than one day in New York City have all been incredible adventures. I briefly discussed several in this 3-part series already. Two others were fleshed out in their own blog entries, the first of which kinda comes at you from a boxer’s angle, which I wrote back in 2008 ( http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2008/09/gmvw-36.html ). The second included discussion points on my only visit to Madison Square Garden, to see the Who perform Quadrophenia ( http://pete-gemsandbeyond.blogspot.com/2016/02/under-big-top-9-symphony-of-four.html ). So obviously, New York has influenced me. There’s no other place like it that I know of.
That’s it for my 3-part whirlwind summary of the first leg of the Rolling Thunder Review Tour, and the memories jarred out of me in relation to reading up on the tour stops. Listening to Hard Rain and Bob Dylan Live, 1975 these past 3 weeks has me more convinced than ever that this Gypsy Caravan was living out something the Beatles envisioned in 1967. Yes, this was the real Magical Mystery Tour. I wish I was about five years older at the time. I’m guessing I would have been there.
Back to the regular single part series next time.
- Pete
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