Today I have little to say. Tough day at work. Tired. Monday blues. Tried to listen to World Gone Wrong on the way home on the train, but some shrieking teenagers in the seats around me drowned out the music. Someone is always yelling these days, no matter where you go.
So I put Silvio on just loud enough to almost block out the noise and sat back. It made me smile.
'I can tell you fancy, I can tell you plain
You give something up for everything you gain
Since every pleasure's got an edge of pain
Pay for your ticket and don't complain'
The clarity of the lyrics rang through my ears as the swinging camel-jaws of the constantly chattering and screeching teens arced silently on and on through the stations home.
I paid for my ticket. I didn't complain. I had some musical pleasure to compensate for the discomfort. I am so thankful for my MP3 player on days like today!
Monday, 30 April 2007
Sunday, 29 April 2007
Sometimes The Silence Can Feel Like Thunder...
I would like this opportunity to thank Bob Dylan for something very special.
I have been playing the guitar, in my own artless and impassioned but somewhat unskilled fashion, for well over half my lifetime. I have been singing along - sometimes flat, sometimes in tune, always happy - since I was a child and able to speak. But until Dylan gave me the gift of silence, I had never truly understood the power of sound.
Because silence is tangible. The pause can indeed be pregnant - heavy and full with the promise of a new birth of ideas and feelings. I also have a great respect and affection for the music of Paul Simon, but always thought The Sound of Silence was simply a clever rhetoric. Intellectually I knew what he meant, but never felt it in my soul until Bob Dylan came into my life, like a patient kindergarten teacher, and explained it to me carefully.
If you are wondering what I mean, I will give a few examples (although to run through the catalogue of songs and quote from each would be tiresome after a while - I will just highlight two or three).
Firstly, consider the staccato phrasing on The Man in the Long Black Coat. Each line broken and whispered so that the anticipation builds in an atmospheric way that makes the breaks and pauses as important as the lyrics themselves.
Then there is the beautiful moment in Highlands (maybe this is because I am English!) when a delicious pun is expertly worked by a silence:
'Insanity is smashing [pause]
up against my soul
You can say I was on anything [pause]
but a roll'
The thought of insanity being 'smashing' (in the UK sense of being fun and pleasant) enters my head for that split second before the full meaning of the continued line takes grip. Then there is the inference of drugs or medication by the second pause... again, this might be unintentional and just the way my mind works!
My final example is my favourite. In The Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar there is a great line with an amazing use of the pause:
'There's a wall between you [pause]
what you want and you got to leap it
Tonight you've got the power to take it
Tomorrow you won't have the power to keep it'
The lyrics on bobdylan.com add the word 'and' in that pause, but on the recording he certainly does not sing that. He pauses. The silence becomes as physical and as insurmountable as the wall he talks of. In the frenzy of that fevered song, it is a stroke of masterful vocalization that sets Dylan apart. He is never obvious. Always subtle. But therein lies the intensity that obviousness is devoid of.
If you listen to Dylan's music, you will find countless examples of the same thing. Never sloppy. Always precise. Carefully measured.
There is a song by Nanci Griffith I enjoy playing on the guitar - Is This All There Is? - in which the final chorus is preceded by a pause. A silence that always terrified me. I was scared of that break more than I was of the inferiority of my own voice or the lack of skill I showed in self-taught guitar strumming. I used to add a chord there. Anything to fill that chasm. The addition sounded wrong, but was less formidable than the moment of empty nothingness.
However, now I have learnt the value of golden silence I no longer fear that moment. I embrace the quiet - that eye of the storm which sometimes has more to say than any word could express. In the Nanci Griffith song, it is a poignant moment. The silence expresses the void left by the loss of a loved one before the final burst - the outpouring of grief, anger and the feeling one has been cheated of the dreams you build at the start of a relationship.
This is true in life as well. There are moments when silence says more than words ever could. There is a time for quiet, for reflection, for listening and contemplation.
I always loved the quote from Macbeth which describes life as 'a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing'. Transferring this idea to music, using an understated pause correctly can speak volumes and can only really be achieved by the best vocalists and writers.
The realization might not have improved my own dubious musical abilities, but it has furthered my understanding of the process.
Thanks, Bob!
I have been playing the guitar, in my own artless and impassioned but somewhat unskilled fashion, for well over half my lifetime. I have been singing along - sometimes flat, sometimes in tune, always happy - since I was a child and able to speak. But until Dylan gave me the gift of silence, I had never truly understood the power of sound.
Because silence is tangible. The pause can indeed be pregnant - heavy and full with the promise of a new birth of ideas and feelings. I also have a great respect and affection for the music of Paul Simon, but always thought The Sound of Silence was simply a clever rhetoric. Intellectually I knew what he meant, but never felt it in my soul until Bob Dylan came into my life, like a patient kindergarten teacher, and explained it to me carefully.
If you are wondering what I mean, I will give a few examples (although to run through the catalogue of songs and quote from each would be tiresome after a while - I will just highlight two or three).
Firstly, consider the staccato phrasing on The Man in the Long Black Coat. Each line broken and whispered so that the anticipation builds in an atmospheric way that makes the breaks and pauses as important as the lyrics themselves.
Then there is the beautiful moment in Highlands (maybe this is because I am English!) when a delicious pun is expertly worked by a silence:
'Insanity is smashing [pause]
up against my soul
You can say I was on anything [pause]
but a roll'
The thought of insanity being 'smashing' (in the UK sense of being fun and pleasant) enters my head for that split second before the full meaning of the continued line takes grip. Then there is the inference of drugs or medication by the second pause... again, this might be unintentional and just the way my mind works!
My final example is my favourite. In The Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar there is a great line with an amazing use of the pause:
'There's a wall between you [pause]
what you want and you got to leap it
Tonight you've got the power to take it
Tomorrow you won't have the power to keep it'
The lyrics on bobdylan.com add the word 'and' in that pause, but on the recording he certainly does not sing that. He pauses. The silence becomes as physical and as insurmountable as the wall he talks of. In the frenzy of that fevered song, it is a stroke of masterful vocalization that sets Dylan apart. He is never obvious. Always subtle. But therein lies the intensity that obviousness is devoid of.
If you listen to Dylan's music, you will find countless examples of the same thing. Never sloppy. Always precise. Carefully measured.
There is a song by Nanci Griffith I enjoy playing on the guitar - Is This All There Is? - in which the final chorus is preceded by a pause. A silence that always terrified me. I was scared of that break more than I was of the inferiority of my own voice or the lack of skill I showed in self-taught guitar strumming. I used to add a chord there. Anything to fill that chasm. The addition sounded wrong, but was less formidable than the moment of empty nothingness.
However, now I have learnt the value of golden silence I no longer fear that moment. I embrace the quiet - that eye of the storm which sometimes has more to say than any word could express. In the Nanci Griffith song, it is a poignant moment. The silence expresses the void left by the loss of a loved one before the final burst - the outpouring of grief, anger and the feeling one has been cheated of the dreams you build at the start of a relationship.
This is true in life as well. There are moments when silence says more than words ever could. There is a time for quiet, for reflection, for listening and contemplation.
I always loved the quote from Macbeth which describes life as 'a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing'. Transferring this idea to music, using an understated pause correctly can speak volumes and can only really be achieved by the best vocalists and writers.
The realization might not have improved my own dubious musical abilities, but it has furthered my understanding of the process.
Thanks, Bob!
Friday, 20 April 2007
It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)
Today I was watching a video on youtube and I was struck by something very interesting about Bob Dylan that I had never noticed before.
Maybe it was the way the clips were orchestrated that made me feel a little differently. There were snippets of interviews from the 1960s; interviews with other great musicians citing Dylan as their inspiration; a newer interview from 2006 and early performance clips of Dylan on stage alone in the spotlight with only his guitar and his beautiful words. All of these I had seen before. There was just something about this video that made me stop and think...
I considered the apparent 'arrogance' of Dylan in early interviews. The way he challenges people, interviews the interviewer, turns the attention from the way he thinks and feels, refuses to fit into a box and pushes people into impossible corners from which they cannot escape. To be honest, when I first saw Don't Look Back and No Direction Home I felt that Bob Dylan was a bit of a prat when he was younger! He comes across as cocky; intelligent and creative, but dismissive of those who can't contribute or keep up. Those who 'stand in the doorways' or 'block up the halls'. Young Bobby Zimmerman never did suffer fools gladly!
I now question though - was it arrogance or was it a case of attack being the best form of defence?
I could be wrong, but I get the feeling that Dylan was upset by what was happening. He was writing songs and performing - suddenly everyone wants him to be their spokesperson. They are looking for answers he doesn't have; wanting him to lead them on whatever causes they may champion; calling him 'messiah' then calling him a traitor when he doesn't accept the role. People are always searching for that guidance and he had been 'chosen' as prophet (actually, he was visionary - consider the truth of Hard Rain today... chilling in its accuracy).
People were camping outside Dylan's house; breaking in when his wife and children were there. The Dylan family were constantly moving - striving for a little normality and peace. It must have been horrendous.
Yes, Bob Dylan is cagey and 'enigmatic' - and that appears to me to be a big part of the self-preservation. To keep going and maintain sanity through all that madness takes a lot of strength (many great creative people have fallen by the wayside). It could also be said that whilst the songs Dylan writes, records and performs are perceived as public property, his personal life and opinions are nobody's business. Many interviewers ask inane or personal questions that can be seen as trite or 'out of order'.
There is also the probability that Dylan did not like the fact that people could not separate the man from the songs. To some people, the music is more important than the human who created them - a human with a need for privacy and personal space. People live with the songs - feel them and inhabit them, believing they are speaking to them personally. Feelings of the artist are not considered.
I see the media and 'fans' still today, talking about pop stars and celebrities as though they were devoid of humanity. Ridiculing, insulting - deifying with one hand and condemning with the other.
I was interested to see that Bob Dylan in 2006 seems a lot less sure of himself than when he was younger. His attitude expresses the realization that fame can be a double-edged sword. You can be popular this week and in the gutter the next. His songs might be a 'legacy' but how people judge them and regard them in the future is uncertain and nothing to get egotistical about.
To be honest, there appears to be very little egotism in Bob Dylan these days. I feel he now appears more comfortable in his own skin. Wiser and more knowing about the joys and pitfalls of life. More mature, quieter, self-effacing almost. Cool...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghH0yFEIcNo
Maybe it was the way the clips were orchestrated that made me feel a little differently. There were snippets of interviews from the 1960s; interviews with other great musicians citing Dylan as their inspiration; a newer interview from 2006 and early performance clips of Dylan on stage alone in the spotlight with only his guitar and his beautiful words. All of these I had seen before. There was just something about this video that made me stop and think...
I considered the apparent 'arrogance' of Dylan in early interviews. The way he challenges people, interviews the interviewer, turns the attention from the way he thinks and feels, refuses to fit into a box and pushes people into impossible corners from which they cannot escape. To be honest, when I first saw Don't Look Back and No Direction Home I felt that Bob Dylan was a bit of a prat when he was younger! He comes across as cocky; intelligent and creative, but dismissive of those who can't contribute or keep up. Those who 'stand in the doorways' or 'block up the halls'. Young Bobby Zimmerman never did suffer fools gladly!
I now question though - was it arrogance or was it a case of attack being the best form of defence?
I could be wrong, but I get the feeling that Dylan was upset by what was happening. He was writing songs and performing - suddenly everyone wants him to be their spokesperson. They are looking for answers he doesn't have; wanting him to lead them on whatever causes they may champion; calling him 'messiah' then calling him a traitor when he doesn't accept the role. People are always searching for that guidance and he had been 'chosen' as prophet (actually, he was visionary - consider the truth of Hard Rain today... chilling in its accuracy).
People were camping outside Dylan's house; breaking in when his wife and children were there. The Dylan family were constantly moving - striving for a little normality and peace. It must have been horrendous.
Yes, Bob Dylan is cagey and 'enigmatic' - and that appears to me to be a big part of the self-preservation. To keep going and maintain sanity through all that madness takes a lot of strength (many great creative people have fallen by the wayside). It could also be said that whilst the songs Dylan writes, records and performs are perceived as public property, his personal life and opinions are nobody's business. Many interviewers ask inane or personal questions that can be seen as trite or 'out of order'.
There is also the probability that Dylan did not like the fact that people could not separate the man from the songs. To some people, the music is more important than the human who created them - a human with a need for privacy and personal space. People live with the songs - feel them and inhabit them, believing they are speaking to them personally. Feelings of the artist are not considered.
I see the media and 'fans' still today, talking about pop stars and celebrities as though they were devoid of humanity. Ridiculing, insulting - deifying with one hand and condemning with the other.
I was interested to see that Bob Dylan in 2006 seems a lot less sure of himself than when he was younger. His attitude expresses the realization that fame can be a double-edged sword. You can be popular this week and in the gutter the next. His songs might be a 'legacy' but how people judge them and regard them in the future is uncertain and nothing to get egotistical about.
To be honest, there appears to be very little egotism in Bob Dylan these days. I feel he now appears more comfortable in his own skin. Wiser and more knowing about the joys and pitfalls of life. More mature, quieter, self-effacing almost. Cool...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghH0yFEIcNo
Sunday, 8 April 2007
Feel Good Factor
I was thinking again today about why I tend to listen to Bob Dylan more than any other singer these days. I do listen to other things... in fact I consider myself highly eclectic. I have a collection of all sorts of music from opera, classical, blues, jazz, folk, disco, country, pop, Motown, swing... Beyond the enjoyment that music gives me, I have always believed that for myself to appreciate music as fully as possible, I wanted to understand the history, cultural influences and processes as much as I could. I am not an expert, but I like to experience as wide a variety as possible.
One thing I like about Dylan is that he makes me feel as though he is the gathering of all this history in one place. You can hear and feel the past in his music and lyrics, but you can also taste the future. His songs sometimes feel like they have always existed, and yet they still sound new and fresh more than 40 years after them having been written. Never predictable, never conventional. It is the paradox that makes his music so addictive, relevant and timeless.
Another thing I like about Bob Dylan is the way his music makes me feel. I have a reaction that burns deep inside. It calls to me on some deeper level. It means something - it makes me think and challenges me intellectually and emotionally. It also makes me feel good. When I hear some of Bob Dylan's music, I can feel his passion and enjoyment - his pure love for what he does - come pouring through every note 'like burning coals'.
Some of his songs make me burn and itch. Some make me feel like crying. Others fill me with intense happiness and a joy of life.
I reckon that is why I keep coming back. The challenge. The emotion. The thought. The music.
One thing I like about Dylan is that he makes me feel as though he is the gathering of all this history in one place. You can hear and feel the past in his music and lyrics, but you can also taste the future. His songs sometimes feel like they have always existed, and yet they still sound new and fresh more than 40 years after them having been written. Never predictable, never conventional. It is the paradox that makes his music so addictive, relevant and timeless.
Another thing I like about Bob Dylan is the way his music makes me feel. I have a reaction that burns deep inside. It calls to me on some deeper level. It means something - it makes me think and challenges me intellectually and emotionally. It also makes me feel good. When I hear some of Bob Dylan's music, I can feel his passion and enjoyment - his pure love for what he does - come pouring through every note 'like burning coals'.
Some of his songs make me burn and itch. Some make me feel like crying. Others fill me with intense happiness and a joy of life.
I reckon that is why I keep coming back. The challenge. The emotion. The thought. The music.
Friday, 6 April 2007
The Complexity of Genius
My husband and my friend were recently having an email debate covering a wide range of topics. One email began with the assumption by my friend that my husband was 'missing out' on something by not reading Jane Austen... and then leaping to the conclusion that people who do not read 'the classics' are somehow inferior intellectually to those who do.
However, this can be a matter of taste, not intellect. Whilst reading material that stretches a person intellectually is definitely beneficial to mental well-being, I have read several 'classics' that do not inspire or stir me. Some worlds are not remotely related to mine. Some attitudes do not strike a chord with me. There is no visceral connection. My emotions remain unmoved.
I feel that we can accept that in music, art and literature someone is creatively innovative and recognise their achievements without particularly feeling drawn to them. We can objectively realize that there are standards of intellect and achievement that qualify as 'great' without personally reacting to them on a subjective level.
We can also accept that some things - especially in music, movies, books and entertainment - are simply there to provide enjoyment on a desultory level. Pop music, paperback romances, action movies with big explosions and miniscule dialogue... people might 'enjoy' them, but they say nothing. They have little to no relevance. They are escapism. They are fine for the 'here and now' moment of amusement or release, but the problem arises when these 'frothy coffee' versions of creativity becomes the staple diet for the intellects of the masses.
Some people have forgotten how to think and analyse. Everything is instant - food, money, sex, credit, entertainment. The brain is like a muscle. If we do not exercise it enough it atrophies and dies.
This could be an essay in itself, and was not particularly what I began this posting to talk about!
The next question my friend posed to my husband concerned Bob Dylan, and that is where my interest was piqued and where it becomes relevant to this blog.
She asserted that a minority of people thought that Dylan was 'overrated' (whatever that means) and she questioned whether he was of the creative calibre to be labelled a 'genius'. She allowed that she liked to read some of his lyrics as poetry, but found the music 'unmelodic' and could not understand what he was saying a lot of the time.
These have been common accusations made by people who are not particularly Dylan fans (one 'critic' in a newspaper this morning, in advance of Dylan's tour of the UK which begins this week, described his voice as a 'rusty hoover'!) and I would roundly dispute them.
Firstly, I have to say that Bob Dylan has very clear diction on most of his recordings. I have never had any more or less difficulty understanding him than I do with any other artist... although being British, the American accent sometimes catches me out with many singers! He has an idiosyncratic vocal style that fits the songs and expresses the emotion of a piece of music quite beautifully. His voice brings depth and meaning that few others can achieve. It is a big leap from the sanitized pop that people's ears are accustomed to... maybe that is the difficulty. I know that the friend in question tends to veer towards 'safe' music in her own tastes. Music that reflects her own 'mainstream' views of life and does not seek to question or challenge. Music that does not encourage thought or debate. Music that is 'bland' in its predictability and lack of ability to either inspire or offend.
Secondly, I believe that although you can read Dylan's lyrics as poetry (I believe there are academic courses and weighty tomes that do this very thing!), there is something lost when the 'voice' and musical cadence is absent. For example, in 'Don't Think Twice, It's All Right' we can read the lyrics:
I'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' as I'm walkin' down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I'm told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right.
But what does Dylan mean? There are some recordings where you can hear resentment in his voice as he sings - I gave her all I could, but she wanted more... she wanted the impossible. It obviously is not 'all right' and there is a bitterness to the song. However, on some recordings (especially live ones) Dylan's voice is tinged with regret - I am so sorry I couldn't give her what she needed, but everything will be all right.
Now it might be interesting to debate these in an academic context, but in the end only Bob Dylan knows what he means. Emotions change over time - what begins as bitterness can turn into regret and forgiveness with hindsight (which is always 20:20). Dylan has also experimented with musical structure and given new life to old songs through altering the emphasis of the off beat and so forth (I am not musically trained, so I can't provide the technical explanation!). Still, this all can change the 'feel' of a song. When we consider how the production methods of Daniel Lanois gave some of Dylan's songs an ethereal quality that drifts through the senses like a mist, and clings to the heart and memory... that cannot be captured on paper and contributes and enhances the lyrics and melodies. It all goes together and I do not think that separating the process works. That is why so few cover versions actually hit home (maybe apart from the Hendrix version of 'All Along The Watchtower').
There is another aspect to this debate - Dylan often will alter and add new lyrics to his songs that can completely change what he is saying. I might infer that he often feels his songs are not 'finished' or explaining the point he wants to get across in quite the way he first intended. If we do not look at the excluded, added or altered lyrics as well, are we missing something? Dylan's songs are not concrete entities; they are organic and evolutionary.
Is Dylan a genius? he certainly has intellect, creativity, originality and talent in abundance. He has inspired others and been innovative in the field of music. He is 'out of the ordinary' and beyond the mainstream 'norm'. He confounds people, never works within expected boundaries, defies categorization, refuses to be boxed and packeged neatly... to me, this pretty much fits the definition of 'genius'.
I do not agree with everything Dylan says. I do not think everything he has ever done is that great. If I ever talked to Bob Dylan (as soon as I had picked myself off the floor!) I am sure that we would disagree and debate many ideas without seeing eye to eye - as well as having much in common and, I suspect, sharing a similar sense of humour. But I am not a blind 'worshipper'. Bob Dylan is a man - a human. I respect his talent and he has provided much enjoyment and richness to my life, for which I thank him.
I hope that I can recognize when somebody is exceptional at what they do. The fact that Bob Dylan is still touring and selling out venues after 5 decades; reinventing himself (maybe consciously, maybe as a natural development of character and maturity), metamorphosing, evolving... the secret of longevity is flexibilty and adaptation. But above all, it is remaining true to oneself. Frauds will soon be rousted out and exposed.
Bob Dylan is still here. Still relevant. Still creative. Still pushing boundaries.
Questions answered.
However, this can be a matter of taste, not intellect. Whilst reading material that stretches a person intellectually is definitely beneficial to mental well-being, I have read several 'classics' that do not inspire or stir me. Some worlds are not remotely related to mine. Some attitudes do not strike a chord with me. There is no visceral connection. My emotions remain unmoved.
I feel that we can accept that in music, art and literature someone is creatively innovative and recognise their achievements without particularly feeling drawn to them. We can objectively realize that there are standards of intellect and achievement that qualify as 'great' without personally reacting to them on a subjective level.
We can also accept that some things - especially in music, movies, books and entertainment - are simply there to provide enjoyment on a desultory level. Pop music, paperback romances, action movies with big explosions and miniscule dialogue... people might 'enjoy' them, but they say nothing. They have little to no relevance. They are escapism. They are fine for the 'here and now' moment of amusement or release, but the problem arises when these 'frothy coffee' versions of creativity becomes the staple diet for the intellects of the masses.
Some people have forgotten how to think and analyse. Everything is instant - food, money, sex, credit, entertainment. The brain is like a muscle. If we do not exercise it enough it atrophies and dies.
This could be an essay in itself, and was not particularly what I began this posting to talk about!
The next question my friend posed to my husband concerned Bob Dylan, and that is where my interest was piqued and where it becomes relevant to this blog.
She asserted that a minority of people thought that Dylan was 'overrated' (whatever that means) and she questioned whether he was of the creative calibre to be labelled a 'genius'. She allowed that she liked to read some of his lyrics as poetry, but found the music 'unmelodic' and could not understand what he was saying a lot of the time.
These have been common accusations made by people who are not particularly Dylan fans (one 'critic' in a newspaper this morning, in advance of Dylan's tour of the UK which begins this week, described his voice as a 'rusty hoover'!) and I would roundly dispute them.
Firstly, I have to say that Bob Dylan has very clear diction on most of his recordings. I have never had any more or less difficulty understanding him than I do with any other artist... although being British, the American accent sometimes catches me out with many singers! He has an idiosyncratic vocal style that fits the songs and expresses the emotion of a piece of music quite beautifully. His voice brings depth and meaning that few others can achieve. It is a big leap from the sanitized pop that people's ears are accustomed to... maybe that is the difficulty. I know that the friend in question tends to veer towards 'safe' music in her own tastes. Music that reflects her own 'mainstream' views of life and does not seek to question or challenge. Music that does not encourage thought or debate. Music that is 'bland' in its predictability and lack of ability to either inspire or offend.
Secondly, I believe that although you can read Dylan's lyrics as poetry (I believe there are academic courses and weighty tomes that do this very thing!), there is something lost when the 'voice' and musical cadence is absent. For example, in 'Don't Think Twice, It's All Right' we can read the lyrics:
I'm a-thinkin' and a-wond'rin' as I'm walkin' down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I'm told
I give her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don't think twice, it's all right.
But what does Dylan mean? There are some recordings where you can hear resentment in his voice as he sings - I gave her all I could, but she wanted more... she wanted the impossible. It obviously is not 'all right' and there is a bitterness to the song. However, on some recordings (especially live ones) Dylan's voice is tinged with regret - I am so sorry I couldn't give her what she needed, but everything will be all right.
Now it might be interesting to debate these in an academic context, but in the end only Bob Dylan knows what he means. Emotions change over time - what begins as bitterness can turn into regret and forgiveness with hindsight (which is always 20:20). Dylan has also experimented with musical structure and given new life to old songs through altering the emphasis of the off beat and so forth (I am not musically trained, so I can't provide the technical explanation!). Still, this all can change the 'feel' of a song. When we consider how the production methods of Daniel Lanois gave some of Dylan's songs an ethereal quality that drifts through the senses like a mist, and clings to the heart and memory... that cannot be captured on paper and contributes and enhances the lyrics and melodies. It all goes together and I do not think that separating the process works. That is why so few cover versions actually hit home (maybe apart from the Hendrix version of 'All Along The Watchtower').
There is another aspect to this debate - Dylan often will alter and add new lyrics to his songs that can completely change what he is saying. I might infer that he often feels his songs are not 'finished' or explaining the point he wants to get across in quite the way he first intended. If we do not look at the excluded, added or altered lyrics as well, are we missing something? Dylan's songs are not concrete entities; they are organic and evolutionary.
Is Dylan a genius? he certainly has intellect, creativity, originality and talent in abundance. He has inspired others and been innovative in the field of music. He is 'out of the ordinary' and beyond the mainstream 'norm'. He confounds people, never works within expected boundaries, defies categorization, refuses to be boxed and packeged neatly... to me, this pretty much fits the definition of 'genius'.
I do not agree with everything Dylan says. I do not think everything he has ever done is that great. If I ever talked to Bob Dylan (as soon as I had picked myself off the floor!) I am sure that we would disagree and debate many ideas without seeing eye to eye - as well as having much in common and, I suspect, sharing a similar sense of humour. But I am not a blind 'worshipper'. Bob Dylan is a man - a human. I respect his talent and he has provided much enjoyment and richness to my life, for which I thank him.
I hope that I can recognize when somebody is exceptional at what they do. The fact that Bob Dylan is still touring and selling out venues after 5 decades; reinventing himself (maybe consciously, maybe as a natural development of character and maturity), metamorphosing, evolving... the secret of longevity is flexibilty and adaptation. But above all, it is remaining true to oneself. Frauds will soon be rousted out and exposed.
Bob Dylan is still here. Still relevant. Still creative. Still pushing boundaries.
Questions answered.
Tuesday, 3 April 2007
Street Legal
I have been listening to Street Legal this week. A much undervalued and great album. (It might be my own flight of fancy, but I hear an echo of these melodies in the songs of Jakob Dylan in The Wallflowers' album Breach. Hmmm... that's a pretty good album too!)
Anyway, between blasts of old favourites, it is good to bring out the CDs that haven't had an airing for a while. They sound fresher and you remember why they mesmerized you in the first place. Baby Stop Crying is fantastic. Is Your Love in Vain? really gives a little insight into Bob Dylan's mind... there is always a level of misunderstanding in relationships and it is interesting to hear that concern in song. It is quite interesting to hear the line:
'All right, I'll take a chance, I will fall in love with you; If I'm a fool you can have the night, you can have the morning too.'
That almost sounds like 'falling in love' in this instance is a conscious decision to let the guard down, rather than a spontaneous emotion. I like the thought of that - feeling unsure and knowing there is a good possibility that you will come off worse, but going ahead and jumping into the abyss anyway. A mix of logic and emotion that really rings true - especially when coupled with the doubts that the potential partner really understands you or is in the relationship for the right reasons. Boy, Bob knows how to touch a nerve with a simple line and a quick vocal inflection.
This album has plenty of good tracks. True Love Tends To Forget, Where Are You Tonight (Journey Through Dark Heat), and the filthy (!) New Pony are all well worth a listen.
We went for a day trip to York today - the long hours on crowded trains left me plenty of time for my iPod as I took the time to contemplate the Yorkshire scenery - the seemingly contradictory beauty of the rolling dales and the incongruous industrial blots along the wayside. My Dylan soundtrack fits with a train journey - the rhythms and cadences are perfection. I lost myself in tracks like Brownsville Girl, Forever Young and Series of Dreams ... Dylan's songs (although he has negated this in his autobiography) have a nostalgic feel and an emotional rise and fall that seem to completely fit journeys. Wandering feet, moving on, loss, change, endings... Dylan is the constantly moving troubadour and balladeer in the old style of the medieval minstral. He sings the times and rings the changes as he moves from town to town. What greater music for a journey? Of course, this could all be part of the illusion:
I know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.
Anyway, between blasts of old favourites, it is good to bring out the CDs that haven't had an airing for a while. They sound fresher and you remember why they mesmerized you in the first place. Baby Stop Crying is fantastic. Is Your Love in Vain? really gives a little insight into Bob Dylan's mind... there is always a level of misunderstanding in relationships and it is interesting to hear that concern in song. It is quite interesting to hear the line:
'All right, I'll take a chance, I will fall in love with you; If I'm a fool you can have the night, you can have the morning too.'
That almost sounds like 'falling in love' in this instance is a conscious decision to let the guard down, rather than a spontaneous emotion. I like the thought of that - feeling unsure and knowing there is a good possibility that you will come off worse, but going ahead and jumping into the abyss anyway. A mix of logic and emotion that really rings true - especially when coupled with the doubts that the potential partner really understands you or is in the relationship for the right reasons. Boy, Bob knows how to touch a nerve with a simple line and a quick vocal inflection.
This album has plenty of good tracks. True Love Tends To Forget, Where Are You Tonight (Journey Through Dark Heat), and the filthy (!) New Pony are all well worth a listen.
We went for a day trip to York today - the long hours on crowded trains left me plenty of time for my iPod as I took the time to contemplate the Yorkshire scenery - the seemingly contradictory beauty of the rolling dales and the incongruous industrial blots along the wayside. My Dylan soundtrack fits with a train journey - the rhythms and cadences are perfection. I lost myself in tracks like Brownsville Girl, Forever Young and Series of Dreams ... Dylan's songs (although he has negated this in his autobiography) have a nostalgic feel and an emotional rise and fall that seem to completely fit journeys. Wandering feet, moving on, loss, change, endings... Dylan is the constantly moving troubadour and balladeer in the old style of the medieval minstral. He sings the times and rings the changes as he moves from town to town. What greater music for a journey? Of course, this could all be part of the illusion:
I know it looks like I'm moving, but I'm standing still.
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