Don’t Think Twice

 

In the run up to Bob Dylan’s 80^th birthday, there have been dozens of articles offering praise, trivia and insights.  As a fan, of course I read them.

 

One of the more interesting tidbits I picked up was the notion that Dylan’s songs are paintings.  You don’t have to understand them.  You don’t even have to like them.  You only have to know whether they speak to you.

 

Speaking for myself, they do.  Yeah, they do.

There’s So Much You Have To Know

If Cat Stevens added a verse or two to Father and Son, and added the perspective of the grandfather, well  …  I’m old enough to also relate to that.

But I’m still pulling for the son.

How Many Times?

If you can’t achieve immortality through song lyrics as deep and meaningful and insightful and poignant and timeless as Dylan’s Blowin’ In The Wind, then you should at least get a Nobel Prize for it.

Does Anybody Hear?

I know If A Tree Falls by Bruce Cockburn is a little intense, but it’s good.  Okay, it’s a lot intense, but it’s really good.

Like An Overheard Remark

Have a listen to the hauntingly beautiful bit of melancholia called In The Falling Dark, by Bruce Cockburn.

There’s not much else to say, is there?

Somebody Holds The Key

Eric Clapton was the face of blues rock for more than a generation.  Steve Winwood stood tall within the pantheon of prog rock immortals.

Yet they gave us Can’t Find My Way Home, a haunting, rapturous, achingly beautiful folk song.

Good work, fellas.

ps – yes, I’ve written about this song before.  It’s just that kinda song, ya know?

Sunshine Came Softly

The other night, I had the pleasure of attending a Donovan concert in Toronto.

His voice isn’t what it used to be, but he’s such a good storyteller, and his songs practically sing themselves anyway, so it was all good.

What was especially heartwarming is that not everyone in the audience had white hair.  I was amazed at how many people under 30 were there – and they weren’t casual listeners.  They knew him.  They were fans.

Donovan himself described his music’s timeless appeal as hopeful melancholy.  He confronts that madness of our species, and shares his sadness at our willful self-destructiveness, but he celebrates the wonders of the world around us with an enduring spirit of hopefulness.

He is the hurdy gurdy man, singing songs of love.

Admit That The Waters Around You Have Grown

Well!   Bob Dylan has won the Nobel Prize for literature, and I think that’s very cool.

Oh What A Feeling

One of the ways I celebrate Canada Day each July 1 is to put on my CanCon (Canadian Content) playlist, which includes my favourite Canadian rock, folk and blues tunes – and is, by the way, quite lengthy.

Damn, but we do make some good music here.

Relax and Float Downstream

Here’s some Socratic reasoning:  Tomorrow Never Knows by The Beatles is an R&B tune because it has a hypnotic, driving beat.  It is also a folk song because it’s carried by simple strumming on an acoustic guitar.  But it’s pretty heavy, so you could argue it’s a rock song.  Or compromise and call it folk rock. 

Then again it’s very trippy, so really it’s psychedelic rock – or maybe even early prog rock, since it lifts from other genres and quotes strange modalities.

Or you could say it’s all of those things, which happens to nicely sum up The Beatles.  Now, if you can say a single song can represent the diverse canon of the best group of all time, then obviously that song is the best song of all time.

Double The Pleasure

Now here’s a fresh list on an overdue subject:  Guitar World’s Top 30 12 String Guitar Songs of All Time brings some attention to an underappreciated instrument.

America, Dylan, The Hollies, The Byrds,  … the people/bands you quickly identify with 12 string are all there.  And some surprises too.  OK, maybe not surprises, but people/bands you wouldn’t immediately associate with the sound:  Hendrix, Queen, Bowie, The Who.  For me, anyway, the tendency is to associate the 12 string with folk, delta blues and country, so if you say 12 string guitar my mind gravitates to folk rock tunes.

And songs like Maggie May, As Tears Go By, Mr. Tambourine Man and Free Falling are all there.  As are classics like A Hard Days Night and Stairway to Heaven.  Um, OK, these aren’t folk rock, but you do expect to find them on the list.

But there are songs I would have forgotten about, like Closer To The Heart, More Than A Feeling or Wish You Were Here.

Anyway, whether electric or acoustic, the 12 string guitar produces such a beautiful rich sound.

I don’t own one though, as much as folk rock is pretty much home base for me.  I can barely keep my 6 strings in tune.

Up Around The Bend

I know Dylan made his reputation as a folk singer, and then famously embraced rock, but he sure had a feel for the blues.  In my book, Slow Train Comin’ is a great example, and one of his best songs, and, given his enormous catalogue, that’s saying something, right?

A mournful groove supporting righteously indignant lyrics, smacking you in the face for eight verses until you moan, “Alright!  You’re right!  Have mercy!”  It leaves you angry  - at someone – and feeling guilty (maybe even ashamed), all at once.

The enemy I see wears a cloak of decency.

Yep, that’s Dylan all right.

Forever Young

If he had never made another record after Nashville Skyline, Bob Dylan would still be regarded as one of the most important artists in the history of music.

But has Rolling Stone Readers Poll of Bob Dylan’s 10 Best Post-60’s Songs nicely proves, he had a lot more to say.  And if the list had been expanded to 40 songs, every one of ‘em would be a powerful tune.

Tangled Up In Blue, Hurricane, Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door … every song on the list is a masterpiece.  And, unlike a lot of 60’s stars, he didn’t just drift into the 70’s and then peter out.  Time Out of Mind was one of the best albums of the 90’s and easily rivals Blood on the Tracks or Highway 61 Revisited (or Freewheelin’, if you prefer) for the title of Best Dylan Album Ever.

Five and a half decades into his monstrously large career, the man is still going.  I hope he never stops.

Genrification

Speaking of genres (well, I was two posts ago), wasn’t it all so much easier when we though of everything as just pop – or rock ‘n’ roll (take your pick)?

But this genre thing is outta control.

I mean, I get that Easy Listening and Pop and Rock and Folk and R&B and Hip Hop just don’t cross paths too much any more(except maybe on awards shows).  I’m inured to the fact that rock has gone through all this cell division so we’ve got Folk Rock, Punk, Metal, Alternative, Prog, Indie and so on and so on and even more so on.

I’ve slowly come top recognize that we need additional labels such as House and Psychobilly, and Emo and Hardcore.  I guess they serve a purpose.

But brother, when I browse some online music sites, I’m overwhelmed by all these weird genres:  Doom?  Sleaze?  Sadcore?  Red Dirt?

Really?  What are these about?

OK, you can kinda guess what Melodic Death might be like, or Screamo, or Horrorcore, or Trip Hop.  Gothabilly you can almost picture (or hear, I guess).  Ditto Acid Folk, even Swamp.  I think.

And it turns out most ‘em have entries in Wikipedia, so I suppose there’s more than one band doing them.  But simple folk like me have to be enlightened as to why we need Shoegaze, Glitch or Grime.

But some of this sub-genrification is kinda pointless isn’t it?  I mean, Wikipedia defines Street Punk as “a working class-based genre of punk rock.”  Hello?  Was normal Punk something reserved for the upper class?  Like The Sex Pistols gave us music for Toffs?

Maybe some of these bands are just trying to distinguish themselves in ways that don’t involve their actual music.  Maybe they’re having us on.   Noir?  Heartfelt and Lyrical?  Youtube?  Jack Daniels?

I think I need a swig.

Rockumentary Heaven

Rolling Stone’s 40 Greatest Rock Documentaries nicely illustrates just how much good video is out there to enjoy.

Dylan, Page, White, U2, Rush, Bowie, Neil Young, James Brown, The Stones, Hendrix, The Who, Zep, Floyd, a little band out of Liverpool called The Beatles  - they’re all there.

Kinda like my desert island playlist, but without enough blues and folk.

Some masterpieces (Talking Heads), some silliness (Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus), some cultural chronicles (Monterey, Woodstock), and a lot of great music.

The list has something for everyone, so I won’t complain, other than to say I would have included:

The Concert For George – my favourite concert video, period

AC/DC Live at Donnington – killer performance, surpassed only by

Queen Live At Wembley – Freddie’s control over the audience is simply mesmerizing.

Speaking of which, there’s a lot of rubbish (OK, music that didn’t age too well) on the Live Aid video, but some of it is great, so it deserves at least an honourable mention.  Maybe?

If You Remember The 60’s …

Rolling Stone needs to come up with shorter titles for their articles, man.  20 Albums Rolling Stone Loved In The Sixties That You’ve Never Heard makes for a title that spills onto a second line!

Anyway, it’s an interesting list, and a bit of a memory test.  I mean, who remembers the rumours that The Masked Marauders were The Beatles plus Dylan and Jagger?  Not me.

A few bands I forgot about without any noticeable downside:  Cat Mother and the All Night Newsboys, Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, for example (talk about long titles!)

A few that live up to the article’s title (I have never heard of them):  Autosalvage, The Good Rats, The Insect Trust, Wild Man Fischer.

Maybe we never heard of these artists because their names were so, like, nuts?  More than a few seem to have existed inside Frank Zappa’s orbit, I notice.  Actually, I do remember Wild Man Fischer – but I forgot on purpose.

Not sure why Wildflowers by Judy Collins is on the list though.  Who doesn’t remember Both Sides Now?  Ditto Those Were The Days by Marky Hopkin.

I Can See Through Your Masks

Go have a listen to Eddie Vedder’s rendition of Masters of War at the Bob Dylan 30^th Anniversary Concert.

            You ain’t worth the blood that runs in your veins

            Even Jesus would never forgive what you do

            All the money you made will never buy back your soul

Ouch!  It might not be the most popular protest song of all time, but it’s got to be the angriest, and Vedder’s performance is spellbinding.

Is that kind of anger still out there and I just can’t find it?  Don’t we have a few things to protest about?  The world don’t look too perfect to me, man.  Why aren’t we, like we used to say, telling it like it is?

Come Gather ‘Round People

I recently picked up the Bob Dylan 30^th Anniversary Tribute concert DVD.  Dunno why they kept us waiting 22 years, but it was worth the wait.

Great performances by an all-start cast.  And some of the best songs ever written.

I watched the DVD with someone who’s a little younger than me, who asked, “What’s the big deal about Dylan anyway?”  The question was influenced by this person’s limited exposure to Dylan, which is mostly latter day Dylan, the cat with the cartoonish voice, dark sound and suicidal lyrics.

But that’s not the Dylan I know.  Well, I do, and I think he’s kinda cool too (in his own way).

Anyway, I responded, “Just listen!  Look who’s on the stage!”  A substantial number of my favourite artists, some of the most successful of all time, were influenced by Bob Dylan.  They said as much, and they proved their assertion in their renditions of his songs.

More than any other artist, Dylan is the link that connects our modern music – and culture – with the past.  Sure, Clapton and Page dug out some blues gems. Yes, The Beatles and The Stones played Nashville, Motown and Memphis with conviction. 

But Dylan is the conduit.  Delta Blues, Hillbilly folk, sea shanties, gospel, ballads, poems, stories … It was as if he had absorbed a dozen working-man’s cultures, and poured it out into the modern world.  Folk, rock and roll, soul, blues rock, R&B, folk rock … he’s touched it all, and shown us where it all came from.

And he spoke the truth, fearlessly.  It’s too bad we stopped listening.  We better start swimming.

Zombie Apocalypse Music

Of all the musical genres out there, the one that scares me the most is the one they call singer-songwriter.  Some earnest cat with a guitar telling you about his sad luck, or complaining about what’s wrong with the world.  Downer stuff, man.  Run away and hide.  We’re all doomed.

Wait a minute!  Wikipedia says singer-songwriter just means musicians who write, compose and perform their own music – in the finest folk tradition.  Leadbellly, Woody, Dylan – guys like that.  That’s cool, right?

And anyway, Buzz, don’t you adore James Taylor and Cat Stevens, and didn’t you enjoy and respect some of those hippy-era guys like Tim Hardin and Bruce Cockburn?

And by the way, Buzz, what the heck do you think most of your music should be called?

OK!  Fine!  Then why do I associate the genre with the likes of Harry Chapin and Jim Croce and Dan Hill, guys whose songs – with all due respect – make me lose my will to live?

Maybe it was that bad voodoo going on in the early seventies, the force that codified, stereotyped and exaggerated everything, the thing that pushed metal into silliness and prog rock into pointlessness and soul into disco and goofy hair.  Maybe it’s just that little bit of singer-songwriter that turns me off.

Anyway, it ought to be the most respected genre, ‘cause it’s got to be the oldest.  Troubadours, bards, poets, Homer and all that.

By the way, I’d respectfully suggest the Wikipedia entry needs a major overhaul.  Maybe Frank Zappa did write, compose and play his own songs, but come on!  Is singer-songwriter really the genre that pops to mind when you hear his name?

Then again, as David Knopfler’s thoughtful article points out, it’s a genre that has defied categorization.

Three Chords and the Truth

All I’ve got is a red guitar, three chords and the truth

All I’ve got is a red guitar, the rest is up to you

The above lyric, inserted into U2’s rendition of Dylan’s All Along the Watchtower, got me thinking about the power of music and art to rise above simple entertainment and get us worked up about serious issues.

OK, I’m as guilty as the next person as far as not wanting to be lectured, and sometimes musicians, actors, etc. can get a bit too full of themselves.  But I’ve never subscribed to the notion that artists should just shut up and perform.  As Neil Young would say, “What?  Just because I’m a singer means I’m not entitled to an opinion?”

Anyway, if art is a reflection of life, how can art not be making a statement?

So here’s to Bono, and Dylan, and Lennon, and Springsteen, and Young, and Woody, and Marley, and all the other cats that have the courage to tell it like it is.

The rest is up to us.