The Bob Dylan appreciation thread

the greatest poet of the english language

Ha

Ha

Genius. You have a way with words.

Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your mouth
Blowing down the back roads headin' south
Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot, babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

https://youtu.be/fMzcwlmhfws

Dylan's lyrics are not poetry, they're great lyrics, but they don't stand up on the page.

Blood on the Tracks or Desire - which is best ? For me, anything with Isis on has got to be up there even if was a free compilation CD in a box of cornflakes.

orly @winnifred1849 ?

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gathering
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes, on bail was out walking
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
And you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears

It's a great protest song. On the page, the forced rhymes are kind of clunking. There are so many brilliant poets in English to choose from, it seems odd to give the title of greatest ever poet to a singer. That's not the same as saying Dylan is rubbish.

I'd go for maybe Thom Gunn, or Walt Whitman. Or Louis Macniece, his poem Hebrides blows me away.

Can't all the poets be the best? I think we need all of them.

'No martyr is among you now, whom you may call your own'

'Stay free fom petty jealousies, Live by no man's code'

'I'm not the one you want babe, I'll only let you down'

'Dont follow leaders, watch your parkin meters'

'I've heard you say many times that you're better than no-one, and no-one is better than you'

This one? Still 'clunky'

Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet ?
We sit here stranded, though we're all doing our best to deny it
And Louise holds a handful of rain, tempting you to defy it
Lights flicker from the opposite loft
In this room the heat pipes just cough
The country music station plays soft
But there's nothing really nothing to turn off
Just Louise and her lover so entwined
And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.

In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chain
And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the D-train
We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight
Ask himself if it's him or them that's really insane
Louise she's all right she's just near
She's delicate and seems like the mirror
But she just makes it all too concise and too clear
That Johanna's not here
The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face
Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place.
Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
And when bringing her name up
He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all
Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall
Oh, how can I explain ?
It's so hard to get on
And these visions of Johanna they kept me up past the dawn.

Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower frieze
When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the mustache say, "Jeeze
I can't find my knees."
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.

The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him
Saying, "Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him."
But like Louise always says
"Ya can't look at much, can ya man."
As she, herself prepares for him
And Madonna, she still has not showed
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
The fiddler, he now steps to the road
He writes everything's been returned which was owed
On the back of the fish truck that loads
While my conscience explodes
The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain

I think with this one he's actually making a joke out of his own obsession with rhyming everything even if it means writing total nonsense. One of my favourite songs ever. I could probably write most of it out from memory, and the rhyme certainly helps with that :)

Can't all the poets be the best? I think we need all of them.

That makes a great song lyric ;)

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine
Alive as you or me
Tearing through these quarters
In the utmost misery
With a blanket underneath his arm
And a coat of solid gold
Searching for the very souls
Whom already have been sold
Arise, arise, he cried so loud
In a voice without restraint
Come out, ye gifted kings and queens
And hear my sad complaint
No martyr is among ye now
Whom you can call your own
So go on your way accordingly
But know you're not alone

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine
Alive with fiery breath
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones
That put him out to death
Oh, I awoke in anger
So alone and terrified
I put my fingers against the glass
And bowed my head and cried

No forced rhymes here

I did actually print that out for myself once to help memorise it. I have things I recite and sing to pass the time on long rides. The ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest is another favourite. I'd still rather read a book of poetry than a book of lyrics. Page poetry isn't better, but it is different. Why does there have to be a "greatest" poet anyway?

Bob back in Blighty

http://www.stereoboard.com/bob-dylan-tickets

Bob Dylan,
The Musical
At the old Vic
http://www.oldvictheatre.com/whats-on/2017/girl-from-the-north-country/

new album, triplicate out
https://youtu.be/BJdKQ92-H_c

Why Dylan Matters book review

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/nov/17/the-harvard-professor-of-bob-dylan-studies-my-thesis-is-that-he-has-become-odysseus-richard-f-thomas

@Oliver Schick Is Dylan the greatest singer ? ;)

https://inews.co.uk/essentials/bob-dylan-actually-pops-greatest-singer-grammy-award-voters-think/

The headline has put me off clicking on that forever. :)

As I've said before, I think he has a great voice, but I certainly don't think he's a good singer.

His advantage is obviously that most good singers sing utter rubbish. While I'm not a fan of most of his lyrics, either, for the most part they're definitely better than the standard stuff you get.

The Grammy award he's up for is for his latest album Triplicate. He covers American songbook classics, many originally recorded by Frank Sinatra. None of Dylan's own material

As I've said before, I think he has a great voice, but I certainly don't think he's a good singer.

He's a 'good singer' in the sense that he uses his voice to best effect in telling the stories he's written. The work and the instrument are almost inextricable. With his best perfomances the voice and the story told become more than the sum of their parts. On the other hand a brilliant singer can produce a flawless but meaningless performance.

Top trolling.

Top trolling.

Was half trying to formulate a reply and then realised this :)

Highway 61 was a decent rock album but by no means his best stuff

As someone who got to know Dylan's back catalogue by buying his late 70s and 80s efforts for 50p from Beanos, I can safely say that persistence pays off. There's lots more to Dylan beyond the classic 60s stuff and I think its a shame that some people get as far as commenting on his voice.

puts on Infidels

His latter albums are amazing.
Love and Theft and Tempest stand up next to his earlier classics like BoTT and BoB.

Though arguably his best material doesn't appear on any of his studio albums but are outtakes and bootlegs. If you haven't heard the rare and unreleased material on Tell Tale Signs (such as Red River Shore and the 2 versions of Mississipi) you are in for a treat.

And there's also the unreleased Blind Willie McTell