Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Again I Celebrate Dylan's Memorial Day Weekend Birthday Alone
One of my most memorable Memorial days weekends was in Bellingham WA 1976. I was like one of three folks in my dorm who elected not to go home, or at least it seemed it. It was bright and sunny and I could play music loud while I cleaned or poked at studying. On my solid state clock radio I picked up a public radio station in Vancouver BC were devoting an afternoon to music and talk about Bob Dylan who had celebrated his thirty fifth birthday. I liked Dylan okay. I heard records at my friend's sisters. I owned John Wesley Harding and Nashville Skyline when they first came out and played them, but not nearly as much as Simon and Garfunkel or the first three Chicago records.
The two Canadian Dylan "scholars" caught my attention big time when they played back to back versions of Its All Right Mom, I'm Only Bleeding, the original Bringing It All Back Home and the other from the Geffen Dylan/Band concert souvenir Before the Flood. This is the moment I really became a Dylan follower. The difference between the versions was pretty staggering, but the essence and the intensity of the song itself powerful in both settings.
The mid-seventies were a great time to get caught up in Dylan for the first time. This was the era of Blood on the Tracks, The Rolling Thunder Review, Desire and Renaldo and Clara. Then there was Street Legal and Budokon. Then Jesus, being baptized in Pat Boone's pool and leaving most of the world scratching their heads even when he drafted Dire Straits for Slow Train.
This past weekend I spent Memorial Day weekend 2009 and Bob Dylan's 68th birthday alone once again. And in circumstances a little bit coincidental, karmic, and cosmic, dug into Dylan, but not classic He's Not There eras of Bobby. Douglas Brinkley's interview with Dylan in Rolling Stone had me curious about the last nearly twenty years of his Americana personified period beginning with the albums of American standard folk songs (Frankie and Johnny, Little Maggie, Stack O Lee, etc) that consisted of Good as I Been to You and World Gone Wrong) to his albums Time out of Mind, Love and Theft, Modern Times, and last month's release Together Through Life
I will reserve another time to expand upon Together Through Life, but like what I hear with a band that has a Tom Petty Heartbreaker and a Los Lobos (Dave Hidalgo) with tunes of American heritage. Sometimes muddy. Sometimes Bright. I'm fascinated to listen closer to hear the signs of Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter's contribution. he few hours I spent listing this weekend lead me to conclude that I like Americana Bob and love the concept of the Never Ending Tour, although he gets real sensitive when it is is called that. I wish I could be able to see Dylan with Willie Nelson and John Cougar Mellencamp at their AAA ball park tour this summer, but, alas, I don't see myself in Stockon or Fresno in mid to late August.
The only pre-nineties Dylan I have been listening to in this round has been the Bob Dylan and Grateful Dead show from Autzen Stadium, 7.19.87. That show features a phenomenal performance of Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest which originally appeared on John Wesley Harding. The tune is a gnarly, intense allegory about friendship and temptation. The performance features an impassioned vocal by Dylan, particularly in the final choruses.
No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest,
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest.
And he just walked along, alone,
With his guilt so well concealed,
And muttered underneath his breath,
"Nothing is revealed."
Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.
The performance is pretty phenomenal. All of the major elements of the Dead: Brent's keyboard, Bobby and Jerry almost sounding like the two dueling protagonists on guitar (Frankie and Judas, perhaps?) Phil's bass runs are especially inspired and Billy and Micky are kicking some major drummer butt. Before the last set of verses you can hear what sounds like a board operator throwing out another filter or whatever it is they do for sweet house sound. But listen closely: it is the sound of thousands of folks going batshit crazy as the song moves to the moral of the story and song. I didn't go to Dylan and the Band 74 or the Rolling Thunder review but I was lucky to be there for this one.
Think I am exagerating or sweetening the situation here? Then check it out for yourself...
Dylan and Dead 7.19.87 Ballad of Frankie Lee & Judas Priest
posted by well-executed buffet at 9:24 PM
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