I bought the first Bob Dylan album. I saw it in a record shop
with an interesting-looking guy on the front and the weirdest track-list I had
ever set eyes on; what sort of songs were, See That my Grave is Kept Clean: In
My Time of Dyin’: Man of Constant Sorrow? Certainly not the same stuff that
Cliff and the Shadows were wanting us to buy. But it pretty much altered the
course of my life. That’s what art does sometimes, it allows you to see the
world in a completely different way. You have to be ready for it and I guess
that at 18, I must have been ready.
Very soon after that of course, Eric brought out his version
of House of the Rising Sun, and pretty soon everyone had heard of Bob Dylan although I think Nina Simone claimed credit for it. I believe that The
Animals, who I saw numerous times around the North East clubs did acknowledge
that it was her concert version they based their own recording upon [and not
Dylan’s], although the song itself has a long folk heritage. Woody Guthrie for
example sang and recorded a version back in the forties.
So, I was a big fan for several years and gobbled up
everything he put out up until probably, Nashville Skyline which for Dylan was
probably yet another ‘re-invention’ but for me, was too great a departure from
what I thought he was about: poetry set to music.
In my novel, Train That
Carried the Girl there is a character called, Zimmy who visits Kiri at
home. Zimmy is a Dylanologist. He is not a real person or particularly based
upon someone I have met, although I think there are a lot of them about. There
is a guy called Martin Colyer, who blogs fairly constantly about Bob Dylan here and still
loves what he does, buys and recommends recent albums, goes to his concerts,
acknowledges that he can no longer sing but doesn’t care because it is and
always was the lyrics for him and is for ever uncovering archive stuff that is
essential listening/reading.
I think I have moved on. I listen to Jazz now . . . and World
on Three. Comfort Zone? There may be a case for saying that. Colyer says that
his lyrics now represent the thoughts and feelings of a 74-year old man, they
are different to what he had to say back in his thirties but are still
relevant; if not to everyone, then to other seventy-year olds. Asking that his grave is kept clean one might surmise? Same as when he was in his early thirties? But I find his
rough delivery and bish, bash, bosh musical accompaniment a barrier, to be
honest. When he used and experimented with bands and musicians from other
genres, for example Daniel Lanois on Oh Mercy and Jaques Levy on Desire [Desire
is in fact the last Bob Dylan record I bought] it all becomes so much more
accessible. Not that I live in a comfort zone, I am challenged enough by life
these days but books and literature [and Jazz and World on Three] are where I
go for therapy, not Bob Dylan’s latest offering.
There is a new [November 2014] film just come out about
Hockney, which I understand looks at his art not just down the years but at
what interests him now; i pad art; driving along videotaping the countryside
with nine digital cameras; collage; paint, even colour photocopiers. Another
seventy-year old [77 actually] just going on and on. I blogged in October in a
similar vein about Picasso, reaching for a new ‘artistic language’ until the
day he died.
I guess Dylan is in the same bag. He is an artist and there is
something he still wants to say, regardless of whether anyone is still listening.
Anyway, here are my five favourite Bob Dylan songs:
Tangled
up in Blue from Blood on the
Tracks
The
Ballad of Hollis Brown from The
Times They Are a-Changin
Bob
Dylans Blues from Freewheelin’
Boots of
Spanish Leather from The
Times They Are a-Changin
The
Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll from The Times They Are a-Changin
Jointly with:
Lay Lady
Lay
from Nashville Skyline
So I have cheated and put in six, not five. It wouldn’t have
been hard to find twenty.
Haven’t tried to put in Youtube links for these. They aren’t
about performance.
No comments:
Post a Comment