A Dissertation In Plain D
In 1975, an album was released that restored
in listeners' eyes the dormant songwriting prowess of a man
named Bob Dylan. Up until this album, Dylan teased his audience
with the sounds of yesterday on his tours
with The Band, while dissapointing them on the creative front with
albums such as "Self-Portrait", "New Morning" and "Planet Waves".
Dylan, delighting many with his great hits "Like A Rolling Stone", "Just
Like
A Woman", "Ballard Of A Thin Man", "Blowin' In The Wind" and "Rainy Day
Woman #12 and 35", to name only a few, ended up leaving his audience
pining for the good old days on the songwriting front. On the
albums listed above, there were songs which contained bits and pieces of
classic Dylan but the lack of that in so many of the other songs left
doubt in the minds of those who followed Dylan forever. They were
about to be rewarded for their patience and dilligence.
"Blood On The Tracks" represented what was so
special about Bob Dylan. Going back to his folk roots, Dylan
weaved a collection of songs that can stand with their heads held high
and proud. Classics such as
"Tangled Up In Blue" and "Idiot Wind" showed the Dylan-ites that, yes,
the man was back with a vengence.
To the fans, this album was well worth the wait.
To those who were avid Dylan-ites, I being one
of them (in terms of appreciation of his work, not in the amount of
Dylan items I own), one has to wonder about a curious piece of
information in the history of this record. The album was due for
release Chrismas 1974, but Dylan put the kibosh on this, saying a short
time before the release that he was "unsatisfied" with the record.
"The songs could have sounded differently....",
he was quoted. When I read this in the fine book "Hard Rain", by
Tim Riley, I wondered why he changed his mind. The artist is never
truly satisfied by his or her work, no matter how colossal or
beautiful. This is the seed of inspiration, of motivation, the
impetus that keeps the creative mind churning. Still, if you have
some time to kill and the right resources, if a question keeps spinning
around in your head, the best thing to do is.... answer it!
Those who have in their possession the two
("legal") Dylan box sets can attempt this. I do. There were
six songs on "Blood On The Tracks" that were re-recorded over the
Christmas holiday, 1974, in Hibbing, Minnesota, "Tangled Up In
Blue", "You're A Big Girl Now", "Simple Twist Of Fate", "Idiot Wind",
"If You See Her, Say Hello" and "Lily, Rosemary And The Jack Of Hearts",
with some local musicians. Only four survived from the original
New York sessions: "Tangled....", "Idiot Wind", "You're A Big Girl
Now", and "If You See Her, Say Hello". There were extreme
differences between the NY versions and the Minnesota versions, distinct
enough to make me wonder what exactly made Dylan change his mind.
What did he hear in these songs? The best way to decide this is to
compare each of the four songs to its later version in hopes of
discovering a pattern. In all instances, I will describe the NY
version first (noted as NY), then the Minnesota version (noted as MN),
noting the difference within the MN version's description.
"If You See Her, Say Hello"(NY) comes across
as a pining for lost love. A love song of extreme sadness, the
singer misses the lover he once had, regretting what he has lost but
trying to keep an adult attitude towards the seperation, only to see
him become bitter and morose, the brave face slowly crumbling, exposing
the nerve that still pulses for her.... "If You See Her Say
Hello"(MN): in this version, the singer doesn't seem as down
about the seperation. He seems to have taken a healthier attitude
towards the inevitable break-up, understanding why it happened.
You can almost picture the two coming together and being friends,
friends with a special bond between them. The MN version, stated
before, was used on the album.
"You're A Big Girl Now" (NY): the singer in
this song seems hurt and humiliated at taking the lover for
granted. He must now pay the price for keeping her at a distance,
seeing her with others, regretting his insolence, realizing too late
what he had and what he won't ever have again, seeing that this woman
had so much to give, so much to offer. Passing that up will haunt
him forever.... "You're
A Big Girl Now"(MN): here, the singer has sadness replaced by a
begrudging respect, a "pat on the back" attitude. He seems to be
in a position of nuturing, watching this woman grow in stature, maybe
sad in a way a parent becomes when their children move away, proud but
empty, knowing this time must come. Stated earlier, the MN version
is on the album.
"Tangled Up In Blue" (NY): the singer has a
pondering rememberance of the trail taken through life, a rememberance
one might have while sitting alone, thumbing through a scrapbook, the
tales on the road told in a way that has the events taking their toll
on the memory of the singer. Fond memories do not abound in this
tale, though they are expounded on deliberately, with each word tumbled
and tossed softly for any and every morsel of symbolism.... "Tangled Up
In Blue"(MN): the singer, in this telling, gives the impression
of a winter evening, the family all home and cozy, together in front of
a crackling fire, the children listening to stories of their parents
and/or grandparents, where memories are exposed for their emotional
impact, usually displaying the happiness of just being able to live a
life like that. Again, the MN recording made it to the album.
"Idiot Wind" is the song that is the most
difficult to come to terms with, regardless of the version. I'm
reminded of the remark Dylan once made to a person who told him how much
the album was enjoyed: " A
lot of people tell me they enjoyed that album. It's hard for me
to relate to that-- I mean, people enjoying that type of
pain....". If I can go into another direction for a bit, when I
read this quote, I always ask myself "Why would he record it as an album
if he doesn't want you to hear it, enjoy it, or buy it? Why give
to an audience that type of pain? How are they supposed to
react?" I can feel the pain in this song, the most pain-riddled
song on the released album, by far. To understand what caused,
what triggered the pain in this song is impossible. One can only
hope to acknowledge its hurt. That is all I can do for this song
in terms of my reaction to it. Joy is a blacklisted emotion to
this.
In the NY version of "Idiot Wind", the
singer is lamenting a lost love, a lost time, a vanishing era, a person
using insults not only to his lover but to himself, as well. When
people are angry, distraught, depressed, sometimes we'll try to hurt
those the closest the most. We use this as a defense mechanism, a
method to release the rage or guilt that wells up inside. The
singer blames himself as much, if not more, for the loss of the lover. (
Critics at this time pointed to songs like this and "You're A Big Girl
Now" as being about the breakup with his wife.
In response to a comment made about ".... Big Girl Now" being about his
wife, Dylan said: "I read that this was supposed to be about my
wife. I wish somebody would ask me first before they go ahead and
print stuff like that.
I mean, it couldn't be about anybody else but my wife, right?
Stupid and misleading jerks sometimes these interpreters are.
Fools, they limit you to their own unimaginitive mentality....".
Basically, the songs could be about
anybody or anything, the relation of two objects within their own
sphere, their own universe. Who'd want to be pigeon-holed like
that in their art, anyway? Art is too broad a concept to narrow
down, but our need for THE ANSWER is too strong, but also debilitating.
) The singer feels regret, but seems to still feel strongly and
lovingly
about the lover. The passing of this relationship is accepted,
barely. It's as if the singer knows there is no other
recourse to be taken to save it. The song sounds like a goodbye,
but only in the tangible sense.
The MN recording of "Idiot Wind".... well,
here we seem to get the initial reaction to the break-down of the
relationship. The singer uses the same release here, the baring
of rage and pain but, unlike the NY version, here he means every
word. The singer's in full accusation mode, leaning into the
lover's face, pouring on the insults and
dumping the burden of blame into her lap. Vindicitive is the
assault, a barrage of hatred, a continual finger-pointing. Here he
feels almost raped of his emotions, ridiculed by the lover's actions,
humiliated to the point of being backed into a sentient corner with
nowhere to go but for the jugular.
For "Idiot Wind" to be able to conjure up two
distinct emotions, its Jekyll and Hyde personalities so fully realized,
is astonishing and frightening. The words in the later recording
are changed, somewhat, to give it the feeling it generates but, for the
song to pander to both the sedate and bestial sides of its personality
tells of the emotions humans have inside. Humans are both the most
noble and the most corrupt creatures on the earth.
This song reminds me of that duality all too well. The MN
recording made it to the album.
Why did Bob Dylan decide to re-record some
songs for the album "Blood On The Tracks"? Here are my
thoughts: Every poem, song, story, any written piece of work
exposes a piece of our soul. I believe this with photographs, too
(someone once told me they believed this; I got this from that person,
though I've forgotten whom it was....). The difference between the
two is the former can be controlled. John Lennon, for example,
lived this as a way of life, peeling off layers of his soul until we saw
him bare, stripped of all pretense and disguise. Most of us do
this without thinking twice when we write letters. In most of
those cases, we do this on purpose. How else to tell how we're
doing and besides, those we write to know us very well, so we have no
reason to hide. In the worlds of music and poetry, however,
evasiveness is a requisite, expected of the best of them.
Within the realms of music and poetry, there
is a certain amount you are to reveal to your audience. This comes
mostly in the form of "clues", pieces to decipher in the audience's
quest to "figure you out". This, I feel, is one of the reasons we
enjoy these media: The mystery, the intrigue, the connection,
bonding, we gain from gathering these "clues", the closeness we gain by
solving each little puzzle. There are times, though, when an
artist, too caught up in the release plotting these mysteries can offer,
will expose more than they want to. Sometimes they won't ever
catch the error, thereby releasing too much of themselves to the
audience, who will devour it, then crave more. Their expectations,
if larger than the "chef" (singer, writer, painter, etc.) can handle or
give, will consume the artist to the point of non-existance. Yes,
a shell, the husk, could remain, all withered and rotted, but the soul
will be gone, lost to a sea of vicarious waters, whose life hinges on
these foods sprinkled into their tanks.
Dylan, consciously or sub-consiously, seeing with
his eyes (or his mind's eye), saw within the NY recording of the album,
"Blood On The Tracks", that he gave too much away, made himself too
accessible, too vulnerable. He only re-recorded those songs which
peered too much into his head and heart. In his career, Dylan has
been able to let the listeners know as little as possible of each song,
bringing the onus of understanding to the listener. He came
closest to slipping with "Blood On The Tracks".
"Blood...." became the last great Dylan
album. Never would another Bob Dylan album approach the brilliance
radiated by this one. He kept writing and performing, though,
coming up with some good songs, but nothing he did ever raised hope in
his audience again. He enraged them, befuddled them, insulted them
at times, especially in his never-ending tour in the 1980's, even
deserted them.
I have relinquished my thoughts to you, the
reader. To those of you who challenge my words, get a hold of the
following: "Blood On The Tracks", "Bootleg Series 1-3" and
"Biograph" ( the last two are the box sets I mentioned in the beginning
), find those songs I mentioned, then take a few hundred listens.
If you are a big Dylan fan already, these should be in your
collection. If you aren't a fan of Dylan, you probably won't give
a damn. If you've read this far, please reconsider the previous
position.
--written by Ralph Carusillo, July 7, 1995
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