Meet Me In Montauk » dylan weekends

Song of the Day #819: ‘Restless Farewell’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sun, 17 Oct 2010 04:03:23 +0000

One more, Bob, for old time’s sake…

Oh all the money that in my whole life I did spend
Be it mine right or wrongfully
I let it slip gladly past the hands of my friends
To tie up the time most forcefully
But the bottles are done
We’ve killed each one
And the table’s full and overflowed
And the corner sign
Says it’s closing time
So I’ll bid farewell and be down the road

Oh ev’ry girl that ever I’ve touched
I did not do it harmfully
And ev’ry girl that ever I’ve hurt
I did not do it knowin’ly
But to remain as friends
And make amends
You need the time and stay behind
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past
I’ll bid farewell and be down the line

Oh ev’ry foe that ever I faced
The cause was there before we came
And ev’ry cause that ever I fought
I fought it full without regret or shame
But the dark does die
As the curtain is drawn and somebody’s eyes
Must meet the dawn
And if I see the day
I’d only have to stay
So I’ll bid farewell in the night and be gone

Oh, ev’ry thought that’s strung a knot in my mind
I might go insane if it couldn’t be sprung
But it’s not to stand naked under unknowin’ eyes
It’s for myself and my friends my stories are sung
But the time ain’t tall, yet on time you depend
And no word is possessed by no special friend
And though the line is cut
It ain’t quite the end
I’ll just bid farewell till we meet again

Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract, and bother me
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face
And the dust of rumors covers me
But if the arrow is straight
And the point is slick
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick
So I’ll make my stand
And remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn

Download: 10-restless-farewell.mp3

Song of the Day #818: ‘Series of Dreams’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sat, 16 Oct 2010 04:03:30 +0000

This weekend marks the final installment of my Dylan Weekend series. Certainly Bob Dylan has produced enough material to keep this going pretty much forever, but I feel that I’ve covered a wide enough range of his output to do some justice to the man in my own small way, and it’s time to look elsewhere.

I started the series back on January 30 with ‘You’re No Good,’ the first song on Dylan’s first studio album. Tomorrow’s track will be the 70th Dylan Weekend song I’ve featured since then. Over that span, I’ve posted songs from 34 studio albums and six bootleg collections.

I hope I’ve provided some insight into Dylan’s career for those of you who aren’t huge fans, and I hope I haven’t embarrassed myself too much in front of those of you who are. My happiest takeaway from this whole process has been the discovery of several new albums that I’d never gotten around to buying… you never stop discovering an artist with a career as long- and wide-ranging as Dylan’s.

I’d like to thank the webmaster of ExpectingRain.com for consistently linking up these posts on his excellent site and driving a lot of eyeballs to my blog that would have otherwise never known it exists. Every artist should be so lucky as to have a website like that dedicated to his or her work.

Now, before this starts sounding even more like an Oscar acceptance speech, here’s a song. ‘Series of Dreams’ is another head-scratcher of an omission, this time from Oh Mercy. I agree with a review I once read that said this would have been a perfect title track for that album.

I was thinking of a series of dreams
Where nothing comes up to the top
Everything stays down where it’s wounded
And comes to a permanent stop
Wasn’t thinking of anything specific
Like in a dream, when someone wakes up and screams
Nothing too very scientific
Just thinking of a series of dreams

Thinking of a series of dreams
Where the time and the tempo fly
And there’s no exit in any direction
’Cept the one that you can’t see with your eyes
Wasn’t making any great connection
Wasn’t falling for any intricate scheme
Nothing that would pass inspection
Just thinking of a series of dreams

Dreams where the umbrella is folded
Into the path you are hurled
And the cards are no good that you’re holding
Unless they’re from another world

In one, numbers were burning
In another, I witnessed a crime
In one, I was running, and in another
All I seemed to be doing was climb
Wasn’t looking for any special assistance
Not going to any great extremes
I’d already gone the distance
Just thinking of a series of dreams

Download: 3-16-series-of-dreams.mp3

Song of the Day #812: ‘Dreamin’ Of You’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sun, 10 Oct 2010 04:03:47 +0000

Time Out of Mind is without question one of Dylan’s finest albums of the last few decades, but the tracks on Telltale Signs that were left off the album could have combined to make it the best by a mile.

One of those is ‘Red River Shore,’ which I mentioned yesterday. Another is ‘Marchin’ to the City,’ a passionate blues number.

And Dylan’s classic ‘Mississippi,’ which eventually found a home on Love and Theft, was originally recorded in a much different form for Time Out of Mind.

Telltale Signs contains two versions of ‘Mississippi,’ both slower and more hushed than the album cut and both different enough that it’s safe to call the group of them three of the best songs Dylan has ever written and recorded.

Actually, a fourth version of ‘Mississippi’ shows up on the rare third Telltale Signs disc. That group of songs was available only in a special edition that cost close to $100, meaning you’d have to pony up about $85 for 12 songs. To add insult to injury, most of those 12 songs were simply alternate versions of the songs on the first two discs. Kind of a dick move by Dylan, if you ask me. I settled for the 2-disc set.

‘Dreamin’ Of You’ is another of the tracks that didn’t make it onto Time Out of Mind, and it’s a great one. It’s more produced and more modern than the rest of the tracks I’ve been discussing, and it’s a really good sound for Dylan.

The light in this place is really bad
Like being at the bottom of a stream
Any minute now
I’m expecting to wake up from a dream

Means so much, the softest touch
By the grave of some child, who neither wept or smiled
I pondered my faith in the rain
I’ve been dreamin’ of you, that’s all I do
And it’s driving me insane

Somewhere dawn is breaking
Light is streaking ‘cross the floor
Church bells are ringing
I wonder who they’re ringing for

Travel under any star
You’ll see me wherever you are
The shadowy past is awake and so vast
I’m sleeping in the palace of pain
I’ve been dreamin’ of you, that’s all I do
But it’s driving me insane

Maybe they’ll get me, maybe they won’t
But whatever it won’t be tonight
I wish your hand was in mine right now
We could go where the moon is white

For years they had me locked in a cage
Then they threw me onto the stage
Some things just last longer than you thought they would
And they never, ever explain
I’ve been dreamin’ of you, that’s all I do
And it’s driving me insane

Well, I eat when I’m hungry, drink when I’m dry
Live my life on the square
Even if the flesh falls off my face
It won’t matter, long as you’re there

Feel like a ghost in love
Underneath the heavens above
Feel further away than I ever did before
Feel further than I can take
Dreamin’ of you is all I do
But it’s driving me insane

Everything in the way is so shiny today
A queer and unusual fall
Spirals of golden haze, here and there in a blaze
Like beams of light in the storm

Maybe you were here and maybe you weren’t
Maybe you touched somebody and got burnt
The silent sun has got me on the run
Burning a hole in my brain
I’m dreamin’ of you, that’s all I do
But it’s driving me insane

Download: 10-dreamin-of-you.mp3

Song of the Day #811: ‘Tell Ol’ Bill’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 04:03:56 +0000

It’s hard to pick a favorite among the volumes of the Bootleg Series, but I might cast a vote for Volume 8, Telltale Signs, a collection of rare and unreleased material recorded between 1989 and 2006.

During that span, Dylan released Oh Mercy and Under the Red Sky, followed by his folk music cover albums and then the celebrated trilogy of Time Out of Mind, Love and Theft and Modern Times.

He was at a creative peak, especially from the late 90s on, and Telltale Signs makes it clear that, as usual, many special songs never made it onto those albums. Among those is ‘Red River Shore’ (covered on the blog in early 2009) that maybe ties ‘Blind Willie McTell‘ as the best song ever left off of a Dylan album.

‘Tell Ol’ Bill’ isn’t one of those unreleased tracks. It was written for the soundtrack to North Country, the Charlize Theron film about coal mining and sexual discrimination (don’t forget your popcorn!) that used Dylan’s music throughout.

This version is actually an alternate take from the one that appeared on the film’s soundtrack, though I’ve never heard the latter and can’t say how different it is.

The river whispers in my ear
I’ve hardly a penny to my name
The heavens have never seemed so near
All my body glows with flame.

The tempest struggles in the air
And to myself alone I sing
It could sink me then and there
I can hear the echoes ring.

I tried to find one smilin’ face
To drive the shadow from my head
I’m stranded in this nameless place
Lyin’ restless in a heavy bed.

Tell me straight out if you will
Why must you torture me within?
Why must you come down off your high hill?
Throw my fate to the clouds and wind.

Far away in a silent land
Secret thoughts are hard to bear
Remember me you’ll understand
Emotions we can never share.

You trampled on me as you passed
Left the coldest kiss upon my brow
All my doubts and fears have gone at last
I’ve nothing more to tell you now.

I walk by tranquil lakes and streams
As each new season’s dawn awaits
I lay awake at night with troubled dreams
The enemy is at the gate.

Beneath the thunder-blasted trees
The words are ringin’ off your tongue
The ground is hard in times like these
Stars are cold, the night is young.

The rocks are bleak, the trees are bare
Iron clouds go floatin’ by
Snowflakes falling in my hair
Beneath the gray and stormy sky.

The evenin’ sun is sinking low
The woods are dark, the town is too
They”ll drag you down, they run the show
Ain’t no tellin’ what they’ll do.

Tell Ol’ Bill when he comes home
Anything is worth a try
Tell him that I’m not alone
That the hour has come to do or die.

All the world I would defy
Let me make it plain as day
I look at you now and I sigh
How could it be any other way?

Download: 06-tell-ol-bill.mp3

Song of the Day #805: ‘I Was Young When I Left Home (Home Recording)’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sun, 03 Oct 2010 04:03:17 +0000

As I mentioned yesterday, Volume 7 is in some ways the weakest of the Bootleg Series because it falls back mostly on songs that are already known.

In fact, it breaks a cardinal rule of bootlegs in general by including material that has already been released — Dylan’s ‘Song to Woody,’ which appeared in the same form on his debut album, and the live Royal Albert Hall versions of ‘Ballad of a Thin Man’ and ‘Like a Rolling Stone,’ which had not only been released but been released on this same Bootleg Series just two volumes back.

I suppose that, because this release served as a soundtrack to Scorsese’s No Direction Home: Bob Dylan, it was appropriate that it include those moments which played such a big part in the film’s narrative. But as a standalone album, it felt like a bit of a cheat.

That said, a couple of rare tracks stand out as exactly the sort of thing the Bootleg Series was meant for. ‘Dink’s Song’ and today’s SOTD, ‘I Was Young When I Left Home,’ were recorded in a friend’s Minneapolis apartment (along with 24 other tracks that haven’t been officially released).

Here’s a glimpse of Dylan between the debut album that failed to set the world on fire and his second album which would do exactly that.

I was young when I left home
But I been out a-ramblin’ ‘round
And I never wrote a letter to my home
To my home, Lord, to my home
And I never wrote a letter to my home

It was just the other day
I was bringing home my pay
When I met an old friend I used to know

Said your mother’s dead and gone
Baby sister’s all gone wrong
And your daddy needs you home right away

Not a shirt on my back
Not a penny on my name
Well I can’t go home thisaway
Thisaway, Lord, Lord, Lord
And I can’t go home thisaway

If you miss the train I’m on
Count the days I’m gone
You will hear that whistle blow a hundred miles
A hundred miles, honey baby. Lord Lord Lord
And you’ll hear that whistle blow a hundred miles

I’m playing on a track
Ma would come and whoop me back
On them trestles down by old Jim McKay’s

When I pay the debt I owe
To the commissary store
I will pawn my watch and chain and go home
Go home, Lord Lord Lord
I will pawn my watch and chain and go home

Used to tell Ma sometimes
When I see them riding blinds
Gonna make me a home out in the wind
In the wind, Lord in the wind
Make me a home out in the wind

I don’t like it in the wind
Wanna go back home again
But I can’t go home thisaway
Thisaway, Lord Lord Lord
And I can’t go home thisaway

I was young when I left home
And I been out rambling ‘round
And I never wrote a letter to my home
To my home, Lord Lord Lord
And I never wrote a letter to my home

Download: 1-06-i-was-young-when-i-left-home-h.mp3

Song of the Day #804: ‘Man of Constant Sorrow (TV Show)’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sat, 02 Oct 2010 04:03:24 +0000

Volume 7 of Bob Dylan’s Bootleg Series is a companion soundtrack to Martin Scorsese’s documentary No Direction Home: Bob Dylan and, as such, has less to offer than the previous volumes I’ve covered on the blog.

The songs here are mostly unreleased versions of old classics (either live, demo or alternate takes). But despite its not being a treasure trove of new material, this 2-disc set does offer some illumination into Dylan’s early work.

One memorable clip in No Direction Home shows a 22-year-old Dylan performing ‘Man of Constant Sorrow’ during his first TV appearance, in 1963, on a show called Folk Songs and More Folk Songs. Dylan had released this song (in this arrangement) on his debut album a year earlier.

This is quite a different version than fans of the Coen Brothers’ O Brother Where Art Thou? are used to (hear that one here). Both versions seem to have been around for quite some time, and the song itself is at least a hundred years old and by most accounts a lot older than that.

I am a man of constant sorrow
I’ve seen trouble all my days
I’ll say goodbye to Colorado
Where I was born and partly raised

Through this open world I’m a-bound to ramble
Through ice and snow, sleet and rain
I’m a-bound to ride that mornin’ railroad
Perhaps I’ll die upon that train

Your mother says that I’m a stranger
A face you’ll never see no more
But here’s one promise to ya
I’ll see you on God’s golden shore

I’m a-goin’ back to Colorado
The place that I’ve started from
If I’d knowed how bad you’d treat me
Babe, I never would have come

Download: 1-09-man-of-constant-sorrow-tv-show.mp3

Song of the Day #798: ‘Like a Rolling Stone (Live)’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 04:03:16 +0000

I’ve read comments from Dylan fans along the lines of “If I had access to a time machine, the ‘Royal Albert Hall’ concert is the moment in history I’d revisit.” As for me, I’d probably opt for sometime during the Roman Empire, but I can appreciate the sentiment. Certainly it would have been something to watch this concert live, both for the music and the history.

Yesterday I featured the performance that closed Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There and today I’m moving to the song that closes Martin Scorsese’s fabulous Dylan documentary No Direction Home. (If you haven’t seen that film, do so immediately.)

After a rollicking version of ‘Ballad of a Thin Man,’ the audience was more restless than ever. That’s when one fan shouted out the famous “Judas!” taunt (which you can hear clearly on this clip). The remark was met with applause from many in the crowd and others joined in the heckling.

Another fan chimed in with what’s been reported as “I’m never listening to you again, ever” (I can’t hear what the guy says and I wonder if that’s just somebody’s best guess that’s been passed along over the years) and Dylan replies “I don’t believe you. You’re a liar.”

He then turns to the band and says “Play it fucking loud” and they tear into a bracing version of ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ that seems to win the crowd back. Organist Al Kooper has said that during those tours the crowds would boo them every night except when they played ‘Like a Rolling Stone,’ at which point they’d cheer like crazy.

I guess that’s because many of the songs Dylan played while “plugged in” started their lives as acoustic tracks alongside his early folk material. But ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ was meant to be electric. It’s a shot to the head that you welcome. This is a song that you want to hear played fucking loud.

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn’t you?
People’d call, say, “Beware doll, you’re bound to fall”
You thought they were all kiddin’ you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin’ out
Now you don’t talk so loud
Now you don’t seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You’ve gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you’re gonna have to get used to it
You said you’d never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He’s not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain’t no good
You shouldn’t let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain’t it hard when you discover that
He really wasn’t where it’s at
After he took from you everything he could steal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They’re drinkin’, thinkin’ that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you’d better lift your diamond ring, you’d better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can’t refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You’re invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Download: rollingstone-live.mp3

Song of the Day #797: ‘Mr. Tambourine Man (Live)’ – Bob Dylan

Clay — Sat, 25 Sep 2010 04:03:39 +0000

Bob Dylan’s “Royal Albert Hall” concert (which actually took place at Manchester’s Free Trade Hall) is one of those seminal moments in music history that has gone down as legend. Think The Beatles’ or Elvis’ first appearances on Ed Sullivan’s stage, or Dylan’s own electric coming out at the Newport Folk Festival.

The “Royal Albert Hall” show was just one stop on that year’s tour, but the shout of “Judas!” by a fan toward the end of the show turned this particular show into an encapsulation of the atmosphere that surrounded Dylan as he embarked on this new leg of his career.

That Dylan had gone electric was certainly not a surprise at this point, so you have to wonder if fans were turning out at his shows in part to register their disapproval. And, perhaps with that in mind, Dylan structured the concert in a way that deliberately played with people’s expectations.

The first half of the show featured just Dylan himself on guitar and harmonica, gracefully exploring seven of his most enduring classics. What’s remarkable about those performances is how respectfully silent the audience is… it’s as intimate a setting as you can imagine.

Then he emerged for the concert’s second half, backed by The Hawks (who later became The Band), and tore through blistering renditions of eight more songs. And just as suddenly, that reverential audience is clapping over his words, booing and screaming out taunts. It’s as if performer and audience are both playing parts in a bizarre portrait of dual personality.

‘Mr. Tambourine Man’ is the track that closes the first half of the show and it contains some of the most sublime work of the night. Todd Haynes chose the closing harmonica solo of this performance to finish his excellent Dylan movie I’m Not There. It’s the only footage of the real Dylan in that whole film, and it’s a powerful moment.