Welcome

Welcome to my 'Evert Listens to Dylan'-blog.
In this blog I describe my listening experiences to 'Bob Dylan - The Complete Album Collection, Vol. 1'.
(I love that 'Vol. 1' - as if Vol. 2 with another 50 or so CDs is to appear soon).
If you want to know why, read the very first blog entry of this blog.
Comments welcome!
And may I invite you to check my other blog, 'Everts World of Music'?

woensdag 22 april 2015

4. Another Side of Bob Dylan

Another Side? Really?

I've been listening to this CD quite some time, and what stays with me most is the steady musicianship. The way Dylan sings songs in such a steady intermediate tempo. The lines of irregular lengths he produces within one song, which give his music an air of plasticity and improvisation. In 'To Ramona': Dylan as a singer; in the final syllable of each sentence a little descending cascade of 3, 4 or 5 notes. It comes back in some of the other songs on this album.

Of course there are strong messages, for me tied to who Dylan essentially wants to be: himself, rather than his image in the eyes of his audience. In 'All I Really Want To Do' he says: no need to try to be like me. And in 'It Ain't Me Babe' (one of those songs so harsh they are hard to swallow for me in the beginning): if you think I can be your hero, forget it.

Apart from that, some of those lines Dylan writes stick in my head. In 'My Back Pages': "I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." Or in 'Motorpsycho Nitemare' (which I would like to cite complete here because it has such funny lyrics, but I'll cite just one line): "Just one condition... That you don't touch my daughter and in the morning milk the cows." 'One condition', yeah - selling the daughter with the cow, as it were. And, in 'I Shall Be Free No. 10', the sarcastic:
"I'm a poet/
and I know it/
hope I don't blow it".

I know the first songs much better than the last songs because I listened to the CD in the car often, starting at the first song but never getting to the end really.

And in 'Chimes of Freedom', I hear, for some reason, Dave Rawlings' 'Bells of Harlem'. I promise I will, at some point, report exactly on how I link the two. If I can, that is: I don't really believe that the outrageously complex grid of musical connections embedded in my body (of which my brain, mind and soul are 'parts') can be explained, generally - far too complex for that.

It dawns on me that Dylan doesn't sing stories. He only sings about "me" and "you". That is: about himself, about his others, and, maybe, about me. As for the last thing, adding: if you think I can be your hero, forget it.