We've
entered the weekend (have a happy one, everybody!), which means two days with
Bob Dylan and the headache of finding the pertinent videos on YouTube. Let my
trouble begin!
At
#114 is a song from his 1976 album Desire, a song that he co-wrote with Jacques
Levy. It's called Romance in Durango. Scott
Avett (of the Avett Brothers) said of the song:
"The
melody of Romance in Durango makes the whole song work; it's so serious and
driven. And like most of Desire and
Blood on the Tracks, it is
relatively repetitive, but it's so good it can kind of just keep going and
going. That's really much harder to do than I think anybody who isn't trying to
make music knows. As far as the lyrics go, it's an amazing endeavor; Dylan was
able to put his mind and heart into a specific scene – of being a lone renegade
in the desert, up to all these trying and dangerous things. You're buying all
the masculinities and going right along with it. It's convincing."
I
love the original, but it's not available. After a lot of discarding of
unsuitable versions, I came up with this live one that isn't bad. It's live in
Bangor, Maine, on November 27, 1975:
The
Man in Me, a song from Bob Dylan's 1970 album New Morning, is at #113.
Sometimes
it takes the right movie to expose the greatness of a song. Before the Coen
brothers' 1998 cult classic, The Big
Lebowski, The Man in Me was a half-forgotten track on 1970's New Morning. But its use in the film
(in the opening credits and later in an epic dream sequence) highlighted its
raggedly euphoric power (costumed Lebowskis drunkenly belt out every word at
fan conventions, and Jeff "The Dude" Bridges performs it live in his
second career as a country singer). Dylan has rarely sounded as joyful as he
does during the "la la la" intro, and gospel-tinged backup vocals add
to the lyrics' sense of unguarded intimacy and deliverance in hard times.
Here's
the Big Lebowski version:
...
And here's the version by Jeff Bridges:
At
#112 we find Most of the Time, a track from Dylan's best album in the 80s, Oh
Mercy (1989). Like many of the songs on Oh Mercy, Most of the Time had a
difficult birth. Dylan envisioned it as a stripped-down folk song, but Daniel
Lanois wanted to infuse it with his trademark swamp atmosphere production.
Lanois won the battle, leaving Dylan to release his original on 2008's The
Bootleg Series 8: Tell Tale Signs. The song explores the difficulty of getting
over an old lover ("Don't even remember what her lips felt like on
mine/Most of the time"), and both versions have their charms – yet while
Dylan's original has a soul-baring immediacy, Lanois' slow, swelling track
makes heartbreak seem like a real-time revelation. Here it is:
At
#111 is a song from Dylan's second best album of all-time and one of the
all-time greats overall, Highway 61
Revisited (1965). The song with the imaginative title It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry has been covered by
numerous artists, including The Grateful Dead, Super Session featuring Al
Kooper, Mike Bloomfield and Steven Stills, The Allman Brothers Band, Marianne
Faithfull, Jerry Garcia, Stephen Stills, Ian Matthews, Leon Russell, Little
Feat, Chris Smither, Taj Mahal, Steve Earle, Levon Helm, Toto, Blue Cheer &
Bun E. Carlos.
This
sexy shuffle was still a hopped-up blues called Phantom Engineer when Dylan
debuted it at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. Later, it was the first song he
attempted during the sessions for Highway
61 Revisited – but Dylan, frustrated with the arrangement, set it
aside after a few takes and cut Tombstone Blues instead. He spent his lunch
break at the piano, working out a slower version that let him linger over the
lyrics' blues tropes ("Don't the moon look good, Mama, shinin' through the
trees") and sly asides ("I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be
your boss"). The results felt both timeless and brand-new.
Finally
for today, at #110, a song from Dylan's best ever album and one of the ten best
albums of all-time. The song is 4th
Time Around and the album is Blonde On Blonde (1966).
What
exactly inspired 4th Time Around is one of the great Dylan mysteries. The
melody and story line are a direct takeoff of the 1965 Beatles song Norwegian
Wood – among the band's first songs with a clear Dylan influence. Was the line
"I never asked for your crutch, now don't ask for mine" a warning to
stop ripping him off? Dylan's never said, but three months after he recorded
it, he went on a famously stoned limo ride with John Lennon around London and
didn't seem to be harboring any malice. The next year he released John Wesley Harding, which has what
appears to be an upside-down image of the Beatles hidden in a tree on the cover
– but that's another mystery.
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