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John, you surprise me about the lines you question:
How many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? It doesn't take much familiarity with the Bible to see a connection to the story of Noah and the Ark, in which Noah sent out a dove to see if the waters had receded from the land. The first time it returned because it had nowhere to land. The second time it returned with an olive branch in its mouth. The third time it did not return. The dove in that story seems pretty clearly connected to the hope for a better future, with the ability to sleep in the sand representing both peace and safety. I think the lines are evocative even for someone who does not know the biblical story, but the allusion adds a lot of depth. It is the ability of Dylan to link to symbolic levels and reference other literature that lifts his lyrics way above most popular song lyrics (and I say that as someone who values lyrics of many current songwriters). Susan |
I think in choosing Blowingin the Wind you have a fairly easy target too, John. It may be possibly his most famous song but it's a long way from being his best. It does have duff lines I agree. It clunks badly and I always skip it.
I can never take 'how many ears must one man have/before he can hear people cry' too seriously. |
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As far as Bruce Springsteen, I think he's both underrated and overrated depending on what people seem to want him for. He writes heartbreaking stuff sometimes. The Tom Joad album is a short story collection. Here's Straight Time:
Got out of prison back in '86. I found a wife Walked the clean and narrow path Just tryin' to stay out and stay alive Got a job at the rendering plant, it ain't gonna make me rich In the darkness before dinner comes Sometimes I can feel the itch I got a cold mind to go tripping 'cross that thin line I'm sick of doin' straight time My uncle's at the evenin' table, makes his living runnin' hot cars Slips me a hundred dollar bill, says "Charlie you best remember who your friends are." Got a cold mind to go tripping 'cross that thin line I ain't makin' straight time Eight years in and it feels like you're gonna die But you get used to anything Sooner or later it just becomes your life Kitchen floor in the evening, tossin' my little babies high Mary's smiling but she's watching me out of the corner of her eye Seems you can't get any more than half free I step out onto the front porch and suck the cold air deep inside of me Got a cold mind to go tripping 'cross that thin line I'm sick of doin' straight time In the basement, huntin' gun and a hacksaw Sip a beer and thirteen inches of barrel drop to the floor Come home late that evening, can't get the smell from my hands Lay my head down on the pillow And go driftin' off into foreign lands |
Dylan played "Blowin' in the Wind" last night in Las Vegas and did not say a word about his new Laureate status. (I think this song and "Like a Rolling Stone" are the two best known ones and the two that appear on setlists most often.) However, he has said in the past that he had to move beyond "finger-pointing songs"--as he derisively described his early "protest" material (like "Blowin' in the Wind" and "Only a Pawn in the Game," the Medgar Evers song referenced by James, which I like much better than James does)--in order to get to what came later: the wild mid 60s high-point, the devastating Blood on the Tracks, the born-again phase, the great songs scattered throughout the career, and the startling late-career rejuvenation.
It might be fun for some of us to do a Good-Dylan and Bad-Dylan thread. Like Mark says, it get a lot better than "Blowin'". It gets a lot worse, too. |
And Quincy, I couldn't agree more. I leaned what satire was from the Dead Kennedy's. 'Kill the Poor' is basically Swift's 'A Modest Proposal' in a loud three minute burst.
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Poets have held differing opinions on Bob Dylan for awhile now. In Ezra Pound: The Voice of Silence, Alan Levy wrote that when Allen Ginsberg and his entourage visited Italy during the late ‘60s, they were “horrified” to learn that Pound had never heard of Dylan. In the words of Olga Rudge, Ginsberg “covered that gap in Ezra’s education by sending him several Dylan records, which Ezra didn’t enjoy at all.” Ironically, the first time I ever heard of Pound was through "Desolation Row."
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Overrated and underrated. Yeah, I get that. Springsteen's The River I think is overdone. And I still like it. And the 80's were the 80's.
*I listened to it again and this always gets to me (about a poor couple married in their teens): I act like I don't remember and Mary acts like she don't care. And: There's a dream alive that don't come true or is it something worse... |
I unashamedly love good rock lyrics. I tingle when I hear them. The whole 'do they work on the page' is irrelevant.
Having said that, here's one more. On the page. Nick Cave's 'the Curse of Milhaven': surely the best song about a little girl serial killer ever written. I live in a town called Millhaven And it's small and it's mean and it's cold But if you come around just as the sun goes down You can watch the whole town turn to gold It's around about then that I used to go a-roaming Singing La la la la La la la lie All God's children they all gotta die My name is Loretta but I prefer Lottie I'm closing in on my fifteenth year And if you think you have seen a pair of eyes more green Then you sure didn't see them around here My hair is yellow and I'm always a-combing La la la la La la la lie Mama often told me we all got to die You must have heard about The Curse Of Millhaven How last Christmas Bill Blake's little boy didn't come home They found him next week in One Mile Creek His head bashed in and his pockets full of stones Well, just imagine all the wailing and moaning La la la la La la la lie Even little Billy Blake's boy, he had to die Then Professor O'Rye from Millhaven High Found nailed to his door his prize-winning terrier Then next day the old fool brought little Biko to school And we all had to watch as he buried her His eulogy to Biko had all the tears a-flowing La la la la La la la lie Even God's little creatures, they have to die Our little town fell into a state of shock A lot of people were saying things that made little sense Then the next thing you know the head of Handyman Joe Was found in the fountain of the Mayor's residence Foul play can really get a small town going La la la la La la la lie Even God's children all have to die Then, in a cruel twist of fate, old Mrs Colgate Was stabbed but the job was not complete The last thing she said before the cops pronounced her dead Was, "My killer is Loretta and she lives across the street!" Twenty cops burst through my door without even phoning La la la la La la la lie The young ones, the old ones, they all gotta die Yes, it is I, Lottie. The Curse Of Millhaven I've struck horror in the heart of this town Like my eyes ain't green and my hair ain't yellow It's more like the other way around I gotta pretty little mouth underneath all the foaming La la la la La la la lie Sooner or later we all gotta die Since I was no bigger than a weavil they've been saying I was evil That if "bad" was a boot that I'd fit it That I'm a wicked young lady, but I've been trying hard lately O fuck it! I'm a monster! I admit it! It makes me so mad my blood really starts a-going La la la la La la la lie Mama always told me that we all gotta die Yeah, I drowned the Blakey kid, stabbed Mrs. Colgate, I admit Did the handyman with his circular saw in his garden shed But I never crucified little Biko, that was two junior high school psychos Stinky Bohoon and his friend with the pumpkin-sized head I'll sing to the lot, now you got me going La la la la La la la lie All God's children have all gotta die There were all the others, all our sisters and brothers You assumed were accidents, best forgotten Recall the children who broke through the ice on Lake Tahoo? Everyone assumed the "Warning" signs had followed them to the bottom Well, they're underneath the house where I do quite a bit of stowing La la la la La la la lie Even twenty little children, they had to die And the fire of '91 that razed the Bella Vista slum There was the biggest shit-fight this country's ever seen Insurance companies ruined, land lords getting sued All cause of wee girl with a can of gasoline Those flames really roared when the wind started blowing La la la la La la la lie Rich man, poor man, all got to die Well I confessed to all these crimes and they put me on trial I was laughing when they took me away Off to the asylum in an old black Mariah It ain't home, but you know, it's fucking better than jail It ain't such bad old place to have a home in La la la la La la la lie All God's children they all gotta die Now I got shrinks that will not rest with their endless Rorschach tests I keep telling them they're out to get me They ask me if I feel remorse and I answer, "Why of course! There is so much more I could have done if they'd let me!" So it's Rorschach and Prozac and everything is groovy Singing La la la la La la la lie All God's children they all have to die La la la la La la la lie I'm happy as a lark and everything is fine Singing La la la la La la la lie Yeah, everything is groovy and everything is fine Singing La la la la La la la lie All God's children they gotta die Bedtime now...:) |
I have nothing new to add to this thread other than to say that I think Dylan's win is well deserved. I can think of few singer-songwriter-poets who have had a more wide-ranging influence. Leonard Cohen is the only one who comes close, and I suspect many who question Dylan's win wouldn't question a Cohen win quite so much...
Despite having a background in music and generally being a music collector and audiophile, I've never owned anything by Dylan (excluding covers, of course), yet there is no question in my mind that he deserves the top prize for literature, however broadly defined. |
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