Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. DX--Bob Dylan: Sweetheart Like You

At least this one's less than a week late....

This week's tune was a pleasant surprise--Dylan had just released three straight religious albums (none of them particularly interesting or good) after his "conversion" to Christianity, and I expected very little from this week's featured album.  It opened my eyes in many ways--no, it wasn't Blood on the Tracks (how many albums are?), but it was at least a little bit of a return to form, and this week's tune would eventually become one my favorites of his.  I suppose it illustrates that one is never too old to be surprised by rock and roll....

This will mark the fifth time I've written about Bob Dylan (one, two, three, and four), which doesn't include my post on the Traveling Wilburys (here).  Needless to say, I have nothing more to pontificate about when it comes to Robert Zimmerman.

"Sweetheart Like You" was the second single from Dylan's rather rebelliously named 1983 album, Infidels.  The single would reach #55 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100, while the LP would peak at #20 on the Billboard 200.

(Two) Fun Facts:  The video made for "Sweetheart Like You" was the first of Dylan's long career.  And, in something of an oddity, Dylan has never performed the song live--which is really saying something (to steal a phrase) considering he tours almost nonstop.

Produced by Mark Knopfler (it's a small world--featured on last week's post, coincidence, not planned), "Sweetheart Like You" does have something of a Dire Straits feel to it, but the moment Dylan starts singing you know it's all his.  Arguably one of Dylan's better vocals, it's understated but at times piercing (could be an effect of the lyrics).  The guitar (both the solo and its backing play) in the song is to die for--I learned, as I was doing my half-assed research, that Knopfler did not perform the guitar solo (I assumed he had, and further assumed that the woman playing in the video was just a stand in for him) but rather Mick Taylor (of Rolling Stones and acclaimed session player fame) who performed it. Sheer brilliance.  There is quite a bit of difference opinion on what the song is about (Central America, Christian Church, music business friend of Dylan's) but I'm going to go Occam's razor on it and just say it's about a beautiful woman who's fallen on hard times.  No matter--it was a nice comeback for Dylan and is musically, lyrically, and vocally an absolute triumph.  

Lyric Sheet:  "You know you could make a name for yourself/You can hear them tires squeal/You can be known as the most beautiful woman/Whoever crawled across cut glass to make a deal..."

Enjoy:

Republicans = Nazis

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CDXXXV--Bob Dylan: Like a Rolling Stone

Somewhere in the mid-seventies, I was told to clean the garage (which seemed like torture but was actually just straightening a few things and sweeping the floor), and as I had recently discovered that chores went by much quicker when listening to music, I had the radio tuned to WFBQ in Indianapolis (thankfully it wasn't raining--early FM signals were weak unless you lived nearby and just a few clouds could make reception a warbled miasma) as I swept away. At some point this week's song blasted through our small radio and I was instantly smitten.  I had really just begun to check out album-oriented rock, having previously been a burgeoning devotee of top 40 pop. It led me to seek out Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits and Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits Vol. II...and a love affair was born.  

The number of books and articles written about Bob Dylan is just south of the number of stars in the sky, and an amateur bozo like me isn't going to add much in a paragraph (note that I've featured a song and an album here on Friday Night Jukebox).  For posterity, though, I will admit the older I've gotten the more I admire Dylan the artist and the less I admire the Dylan the man (a greedy bullshit artist pretty much sums it up).  I also find his winning the Nobel Prize for Literature to be delusional--to think his sucking his fans dry with dozens of releases of shitty outtakes ranks with artists who spent careers creating actual art for pennies is ludicrous.  Rant over!

"Like a Rolling Stone" was the first single released from his groundbreaking 1965 album Highway 61 Revisited.  The song would go on to be the highest charting single of Dylan's career, hitting #2 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100.  The album reached #3 on the Billboard 200. [Side note:  If you've never heard the album, make the time.  It's easily one of the top ten albums ever made and well worth the listen.]

Fun Fact:  There is much debate as to whether Dylan is raging against a specific person or at himself in the song. For what it's worth (probably not much), since very, very early in my listening experience I have thought his anger was directed at himself--even more so since I learned during my weekly half-assed research that when he wrote the polemic that would become "Like a Rolling Stone" he was tired of both his life and the direction his music was going.

People have literally written dissertations about "Like a Rolling Stone" and as noted above, a putz like me isn't going to have any earth-shattering discoveries about such a visionary work. Suffice is to say it's a stunning song that changed rock and roll forever.

Lyric Sheet:  "You used to be so amused/At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used/Go to him now, he calls ya, ya can't refuse/When ya ain't got nothin', you got nothin' to lose/You're invisible now, ya got no secrets to conceal..."

Enjoy:

Republicans = Nazis

Peace,

emaycee

Friday Night Jukebox, Vol. CXXVII--Bob Dylan: Blood on the Tracks (Album)

This week is the second annual "It's My Birthday So I'm Going to Feature One of My Favorite Albums" posts...

As with last year's piece about Springsteen's Born to Run, in order to keep this from being a novel, we'll dispense with the bio--it's Bob Dylan, excuse me Nobel Laureate Bob Dylan, for Christ's sake.  There have been dozens of biographies that can expound upon his career much better than the single paragraph I usually devote to the week's featured artist.

In addition to having arguably the greatest album title ever (think of the many, many ways the word tracks can be interpreted and then add blood to it--genius), Blood on the Tracks is widely considered Dylan's best album (myself included).  It reached #1 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard 200, and was named the sixteenth best album on "Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All-Time" (I'd be hard pressed to name fifteen albums better than this one).  Dylan's son Jakob has described the album as "my parents talking" but Dylan himself has said the album is not autobiographical.  As the LP was released about the time Dylan's first marriage was ending I have my doubts, but as I don't know the man personally, I'll take his word for it (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

Without further ado:

Tangled Up in Blue--A series of vignettes about failed relationships and the ones that got away--with zero sentimentality.  The characters often seem to be from long gone eras, drifting along from place to place, life to life.  There's some wonderful acoustic guitar playing driving the song from beginning to end.  Favorite line: "So now I'm goin' back again/Got to get to her somehow/All the people we used to know/They're an illusion to me now..."

Simple Twist of Fate--Boy meets Girl, has short relationship, Girl leaves Boy, Boy never forgets Girl...blame it all on a simple twist of fate.  A recurring theme--lots of catchy as all hell acoustic guitar, with ample emaycee fave harmonica parts as well.  Favorite line:  "He hears the ticking of the clocks/Walks along with a parrot that talks..."

You're a Big Girl Now--Boy meets Girl--this one is more first person and a lot more heartfelt.  It's the tale of a broken heart, and the acceptance of what the hearbreaker has become.  Favorite line:  "Love is so simple, to quote a phrase/You've known it all the time, I'm learnin' it these days..."

Idiot Wind--If this was Jakob Dylan's parents talking...you're probably glad you weren't there to witness it.  I'm not sure an angrier song about the dissolution of a relationship has ever been written--or even been close.  Surprisingly enough, it's sheer brilliance.  Meanest line ever written:  "Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth/ You're an idiot, babe/It's a wonder you still know how to breathe..."

You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go--...and he follows it up with a song that's not only one of the longest titled pop songs ever, but is about the simple and overpowering joy of love.  And therein is the enigma that has always been Bob Dylan.  This was my first favorite song on the album and the one that made me listen again and again.  Favorite line:  "I've seen love go by my door/Never been this close before/Never been so easy or so slow..."

Meet Me in the Morning--Dylan does the blues--with the classic story of "My Baby Done Left Me."  Probably the one song that's least like the others on the LP, but the narrator's pragmatic acceptance of his loss is a departure from the romanticized loss seen in some of the other songs.  Favorite line:  "Look at the sun sinkin' like a ship/Ain't that just like my heart, babe/When you kissed my lips..."

Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts--Nine minutes of imagery surrounding a rich man, his wife and mistress, his eventual murder, and his wife's execution, without really knowing  if she was guilty or not.  And it's all the fault of the Jack of Hearts. The music is kind of bouncy, in an almost honky tonk kind of way.  Not a bad song, but my least favorite on the album.

If You See Her, Say Hello--The polar opposite of "Idiot Wind"--every now and again people have relationships that fail and leave a broken heart, but still remember kindly their lost love, wishing them only happiness.  A reminder that the bittersweet exists in love, too.  Favorite line:  "Sundown, yellow moon, I replay the past/I know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast..."

Shelter from the Storm--Probably my favorite Dylan song, though I came to appreciate it much later in life than when I first heard it in my teens.  A man remembers the kindness of, and the peace he felt being with, a now lost/distanced love.  I think the song is often misinterpreted (thanks to the chorus) as being a lot more romantic than it actually is.  Lots of references to Jesus, too.  And I absolutely adore both the rhythmic acoustic guitar and subtle harmonica playing in this one.  Favorite line:  "Well I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line/Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine/If I could only turn the clock back to when God and her were born..."

Buckets of Rain--Like "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go" (which on the album was the last song on side one), Dylan closes side two and the album with another heartfelt paean to both the joy and misery of love.  Appropriately enough as it's the last song, this one came to be appreciated last by me, though now it's one of my favorite songs from the album.  Love the acoustic guitar in this one as well.  Favorite line:  "Life is sad/Life is a bust/All ya can do is do what you must/You do what you must do and you do it well..."

And therein lies the end of an album that warms the hearts of old fart folkies across the globe.  A masterpiece (album lyrics found here) of the nuances of relationships, both the sad and the glorious.

I wasn't able to find a Youtube video for the album, but there's a link to the album on Spotify (if you've got the time to give it a listen) below the album photo.  Enjoy:

Listen here.

Fuck Donald Trump,
emaycee

Pretty good, eh?

It's not often that I use this space for items that aren't political, but every now and again something strikes my fancy....

When I was still a young man, I harbored illusions held by many a youth--that of writing the great American novel (and what an illusion it was--at this stage of my life I'd settle for writing the mediocre American novel). As those who dream such dreams are wont to do, I was enamored of what is commonly referred to as literature (and everyone else calls shit that only eggheads read).  Over the course of the last dozen years or so, after the republican trifecta of the Clinton impeachment, the unmitigated disaster that was 9/11, and their subservience to the gods of income inequality, fiction seemed to become more and more...superfluous.  Even  "literature" seemed to become tiresome, corporatized, let's have a meeting and write that great American novel.  And it definitely didn't seem to give two shits about the human condition.

Except for three writers I could have given up fiction forever and not missed it much.  Cormac McCarthy, Ian McEwan, and Alice Munro wrote novels and stories that over the course of that time kept me at least slightly interested and believing that there were still those who could write tales that touched the heart without being Marley and Me.

For whatever it's worth, Alice Munro won the Nobel Prize for Literature today, and was cited for being a master of the short story (she is).  She writes stories about ordinary Canadians, people that you often wonder if should even care about, but she structures their lives as such that you cannot help but.

Alice Munro never wrote the great Canadian novel (in fact, she never wrote a novel period), but she has brought much joy into my life with her work.  I can't think of a better choice.

Peace,
emaycee