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| Messages 1 - 83 of total 83 in this topic |
Bad Climber
Trad climber
The Lawless Border Regions
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Oct 13, 2016 - 06:04am PT
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Well, we know it wasn't for his singing. (Ducks, runs for cover.)
BAd
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mcreel
climber
Barcelona
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Oct 13, 2016 - 06:28am PT
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Hey, how exciting! For the first time ever, I'm familiar with most of the laureate's work, and I can understand it.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 13, 2016 - 06:30am PT
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AP
Trad climber
Calgary
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Oct 13, 2016 - 08:14am PT
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No one can tell a story like Bob.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 13, 2016 - 09:12am PT
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"Well," he said, "my daddy, he didn't leave me much, you know he was a very simple man,
but what he did tell me was this, he did say, son, he said"
 there was a long pause, nervous laughter from the crowd -
"he say, you know it's possible to become so defiled in this world
that your own father and mother will abandon you and if that happens,
God will always believe in your ability to mend your ways."
2015
Dylan referred to his notes and began by saying, "I'm going to read some of this."
_
I'm glad for my songs to be honored like this. But you know, they didn't get here by themselves. It's been a long road and it's taken a lot of doing. These songs of mine, they're like mystery stories, the kind that Shakespeare saw when he was growing up. I think you could trace what I do back that far. They were on the fringes then, and I think they're on the fringes now. And they sound like they've been on the hard ground.
I should mention a few people along the way who brought this about. I know I should mention John Hammond, great talent scout for Columbia Records. He signed me to that label when I was nobody. It took a lot of faith to do that, and he took a lot of ridicule, but he was his own man and he was courageous. And for that, I'm eternally grateful. The last person he discovered before me was Aretha Franklin, and before that Count Basie, Billie Holiday and a whole lot of other artists. All noncommercial artists.
Trends did not interest John, and I was very noncommercial but he stayed with me. He believed in my talent and that's all that mattered. I can't thank him enough for that.
Lou Levy runs Leeds Music, and they published my earliest songs, but I didn't stay there too long. Levy himself, he went back a long ways. He signed me to that company and recorded my songs and I sang them into a tape recorder. He told me outright, there was no precedent for what I was doing, that I was either before my time or behind it. And if I brought him a song like "Stardust," he'd turn it down because it would be too late.
He told me that if I was before my time -- and he didn't really know that for sure -- but if it was happening and if it was true, the public would usually take three to five years to catch up -- so be prepared. And that did happen. The trouble was, when the public did catch up I was already three to five years beyond that, so it kind of complicated it. But he was encouraging, and he didn't judge me, and I'll always remember him for that.
Artie Mogull at Witmark Music signed me next to his company, and he told me to just keep writing songs no matter what, that I might be on to something. Well, he too stood behind me, and he could never wait to see what I'd give him next. I didn't even think of myself as a songwriter before then. I'll always be grateful for him also for that attitude.
I also have to mention some of the early artists who recorded my songs very, very early, without having to be asked. Just something they felt about them that was right for them. I've got to say thank you to Peter, Paul and Mary, who I knew all separately before they ever became a group. I didn't even think of myself as writing songs for others to sing but it was starting to happen and it couldn't have happened to, or with, a better group.
They took a song of mine that had been recorded before that was buried on one of my records and turned it into a hit song. Not the way I would have done it -- they straightened it out. But since then hundreds of people have recorded it and I don't think that would have happened if it wasn't for them. They definitely started something for me.
The Byrds, the Turtles, Sonny & Cher -- they made some of my songs Top 10 hits but I wasn't a pop songwriter and I really didn't want to be that, but it was good that it happened. Their versions of songs were like commercials, but I didn't really mind that because 50 years later my songs were being used in the commercials. So that was good too. I was glad it happened, and I was glad they'd done it.
Pervis Staples and the Staple Singers -- long before they were on Stax they were on Epic and they were one of my favorite groups of all time. I met them all in '62 or '63. They heard my songs live and Pervis wanted to record three or four of them and he did with the Staples Singers. They were the type of artists that I wanted recording my songs.
Nina Simone. I used to cross paths with her in New York City in the Village Gate nightclub. These were the artists I looked up to. She recorded some of my songs that she [inaudible] to me. She was an overwhelming artist, piano player and singer. Very strong woman, very outspoken. That she was recording my songs validated everything that I was about.
Oh, and can't forget Jimi Hendrix. I actually saw Jimi Hendrix perform when he was in a band called Jimmy James and the Blue Flames -- something like that. And Jimi didn't even sing. He was just the guitar player. He took some small songs of mine that nobody paid any attention to and pumped them up into the outer limits of the stratosphere and turned them all into classics. I have to thank Jimi, too. I wish he was here.
Johnny Cash recorded some of my songs early on, too, up in about '63, when he was all skin and bones. He traveled long, he traveled hard, but he was a hero of mine. I heard many of his songs growing up. I knew them better than I knew my own. "Big River," "I Walk the Line."
"How high's the water, Mama?" I wrote "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)" with that song reverberating inside my head. I still ask, "How high is the water, mama?" Johnny was an intense character. And he saw that people were putting me down playing electric music, and he posted letters to magazines scolding people, telling them to shut up and let him sing.
In Johnny Cash's world -- hardcore Southern drama -- that kind of thing didn't exist. Nobody told anybody what to sing or what not to sing. They just didn't do that kind of thing. I'm always going to thank him for that. Johnny Cash was a giant of a man, the man in black. And I'll always cherish the friendship we had until the day there is no more days.
Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Joan Baez. She was the queen of folk music then and now. She took a liking to my songs and brought me with her to play concerts, where she had crowds of thousands of people enthralled with her beauty and voice.
People would say, "What are you doing with that ragtag scrubby little waif?" And she'd tell everybody in no uncertain terms, "Now you better be quiet and listen to the songs." We even played a few of them together. Joan Baez is as tough-minded as they come. Love. And she's a free, independent spirit. Nobody can tell her what to do if she doesn't want to do it. I learned a lot of things from her. A woman with devastating honesty. And for her kind of love and devotion, I could never pay that back.
GRAMMYS 2015: Complete list | Show highlights | Quotes | Best & worst
These songs didn't come out of thin air. I didn't just make them up out of whole cloth. Contrary to what Lou Levy said, there was a precedent. It all came out of traditional music: traditional folk music, traditional rock 'n' roll and traditional big-band swing orchestra music.
I learned lyrics and how to write them from listening to folk songs. And I played them, and I met other people that played them back when nobody was doing it. Sang nothing but these folk songs, and they gave me the code for everything that's fair game, that everything belongs to everyone.
For three or four years all I listened to were folk standards. I went to sleep singing folk songs. I sang them everywhere, clubs, parties, bars, coffeehouses, fields, festivals. And I met other singers along the way who did the same thing and we just learned songs from each other. I could learn one song and sing it next in an hour if I'd heard it just once.
If you sang "John Henry" as many times as me -- "John Henry was a steel-driving man / Died with a hammer in his hand / John Henry said a man ain't nothin' but a man / Before I let that steam drill drive me down / I'll die with that hammer in my hand."
If you had sung that song as many times as I did, you'd have written "How many roads must a man walk down?" too.
Big Bill Broonzy had a song called "Key to the Highway." "I've got a key to the highway / I'm booked and I'm bound to go / Gonna leave here runnin' because walking is most too slow." I sang that a lot. If you sing that a lot, you just might write,
Georgia Sam he had a bloody nose
Welfare Department they wouldn’t give him no clothes
He asked poor Howard where can I go
Howard said there’s only one place I know
Sam said tell me quick man I got to run
Howard just pointed with his gun
And said that way down on Highway 61
You'd have written that too if you'd sang "Key to the Highway" as much as me.
"Ain't no use sit 'n cry / You'll be an angel by and by / Sail away, ladies, sail away." "I'm sailing away my own true love." "Boots of Spanish Leather" -- Sheryl Crow just sung that.
"Roll the cotton down, aw, yeah, roll the cotton down / Ten dollars a day is a white man's pay / A dollar a day is the black man's pay / Roll the cotton down." If you sang that song as many times as me, you'd be writing "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more," too.
PHOTOS: Grammys 2015 top nominees
I sang a lot of "come all you" songs. There's plenty of them. There's way too many to be counted. "Come along boys and listen to my tale / Tell you of my trouble on the old Chisholm Trail." Or, "Come all ye good people, listen while I tell / the fate of Floyd Collins a lad we all know well / The fate of Floyd Collins, a lad we all know well."
"Come all ye fair and tender ladies / Take warning how you court your men / They're like a star on a summer morning / They first appear and then they're gone again." "If you'll gather 'round, people / A story I will tell / 'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw / Oklahoma knew him well."
If you sung all these "come all ye" songs all the time, you'd be writing, "Come gather 'round people where ever you roam, admit that the waters around you have grown / Accept that soon you'll be drenched to the bone / If your time to you is worth saving / And you better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone / The times they are a-changing."
You'd have written them too. There's nothing secret about it. You just do it subliminally and unconsciously, because that's all enough, and that's all I sang. That was all that was dear to me. They were the only kinds of songs that made sense.
"When you go down to Deep Ellum keep your money in your socks / Women in Deep Ellum put you on the rocks." Sing that song for a while and you just might come up with, "When you're lost in the rain in Juarez and it's Easter time too / And your gravity fails and negativity don't pull you through / Don’t put on any airs / When you’re down on Rue Morgue Avenue / They got some hungry women there / And they really make a mess outta you."
All these songs are connected. Don't be fooled. I just opened up a different door in a different kind of way. It's just different, saying the same thing. I didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary.
Well you know, I just thought I was doing something natural, but right from the start, my songs were divisive for some reason. They divided people. I never knew why. Some got angered, others loved them. Didn't know why my songs had detractors and supporters. A strange environment to have to throw your songs into, but I did it anyway.
Last thing I thought of was who cared about what song I was writing. I was just writing them. I didn't think I was doing anything different. I thought I was just extending the line. Maybe a little bit unruly, but I was just elaborating on situations. Maybe hard to pin down, but so what? A lot of people are hard to pin down. You've just got to bear it. I didn't really care what Lieber and Stoller thought of my songs.
GRAMMYS: Timeline
They didn't like 'em, but Doc Pomus did. That was all right that they didn't like 'em, because I never liked their songs either. "Yakety yak, don't talk back." "Charlie Brown is a clown," "Baby I'm a hog for you." Novelty songs. They weren't saying anything serious. Doc's songs, they were better. "This Magic Moment." "Lonely Avenue." Save the Last Dance for Me.
Those songs broke my heart. I figured I'd rather have his blessings any day than theirs.
Ahmet Ertegun didn't think much of my songs, but Sam Phillips did. Ahmet founded Atlantic Records. He produced some great records: Ray Charles, Ray Brown, just to name a few.
There were some great records in there, no question about it. But Sam Phillips, he recorded Elvis and Jerry Lee, Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash. Radical eyes that shook the very essence of humanity. Revolution in style and scope. Heavy shape and color. Radical to the bone. Songs that cut you to the bone. Renegades in all degrees, doing songs that would never decay, and still resound to this day. Oh, yeah, I'd rather have Sam Phillips' blessing any day.
Merle Haggard didn't even think much of my songs. I know he didn't. He didn't say that to me, but I know [inaudible]. Buck Owens did, and he recorded some of my early songs. Merle Haggard -- "Mama Tried," "The Bottle Let Me Down," "I'm a Lonesome Fugitive." I can't imagine Waylon Jennings singing "The Bottle Let Me Down."
"Together Again"? That's Buck Owens, and that trumps anything coming out of Bakersfield. Buck Owens and Merle Haggard? If you have to have somebody's blessing -- you figure it out.
Oh, yeah. Critics have been giving me a hard time since Day One. Critics say I can't sing. I croak. Sound like a frog. Why don't critics say that same thing about Tom Waits? Critics say my voice is shot. That I have no voice. What don't they say those things about Leonard Cohen? Why do I get special treatment? Critics say I can't carry a tune and I talk my way through a song. Really? I've never heard that said about Lou Reed. Why does he get to go scot-free?
What have I done to deserve this special attention? No vocal range? When's the last time you heard Dr. John? Why don't you say that about him? Slur my words, got no diction. Have you people ever listened to Charley Patton or Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters. Talk about slurred words and no diction. [Inaudible] doesn't even matter.
"Why me, Lord?" I would say that to myself.
Critics say I mangle my melodies, render my songs unrecognizable. Oh, really? Let me tell you something. I was at a boxing match a few years ago seeing Floyd Mayweather fight a Puerto Rican guy. And the Puerto Rican national anthem, somebody sang it and it was beautiful. It was heartfelt and it was moving.
After that it was time for our national anthem. And a very popular soul-singing sister was chosen to sing. She sang every note -- that exists, and some that don't exist. Talk about mangling a melody. You take a one-syllable word and make it last for 15 minutes? She was doing vocal gymnastics like she was on a trapeze act. But to me it was not funny.
Where were the critics? Mangling lyrics? Mangling a melody? Mangling a treasured song? No, I get the blame. But I don't really think I do that. I just think critics say I do.
Sam Cooke said this when told he had a beautiful voice: He said, "Well that's very kind of you, but voices ought not to be measured by how pretty they are. Instead they matter only if they convince you that they are telling the truth." Think about that the next time you [inaudible].
Times always change. They really do. And you have to always be ready for something that's coming along and you never expected it. Way back when, I was in Nashville making some records and I read this article, a Tom T. Hall interview. Tom T. Hall, he was bitching about some kind of new song, and he couldn't understand what these new kinds of songs that were coming in were about.
Now Tom, he was one of the most preeminent songwriters of the time in Nashville. A lot of people were recording his songs and he himself even did it. But he was all in a fuss about James Taylor, a song James had called "Country Road." Tom was going off in this interview -- "But James don't say nothing about a country road. He's just says how you can feel it on the country road. I don't understand that."
Now some might say Tom is a great songwriter. I'm not going to doubt that. At the time he was doing this interview I was actually listening to a song of his on the radio.
It was called "I Love." I was listening to it in a recording studio, and he was talking about all the things he loves, an everyman kind of song, trying to connect with people. Trying to make you think that he's just like you and you're just like him. We all love the same things, and we're all in this together. Tom loves little baby ducks, slow-moving trains and rain. He loves old pickup trucks and little country streams. Sleeping without dreams. Bourbon in a glass. Coffee in a cup. Tomatoes on the vine, and onions.
Now listen, I'm not ever going to disparage another songwriter. I'm not going to do that. I'm not saying it's a bad song. I'm just saying it might be a little overcooked. But, you know, it was in the top 10 anyway. Tom and a few other writers had the whole Nashville scene sewed up in a box. If you wanted to record a song and get it in the top 10 you had to go to them, and Tom was one of the top guys. They were all very comfortable, doing their thing.
This was about the time that Willie Nelson picked up and moved to Texas. About the same time. He's still in Texas. Everything was very copacetic. Everything was all right until -- until -- Kristofferson came to town. Oh, they ain't seen anybody like him. He came into town like a wildcat, flew his helicopter into Johnny Cash's backyard like a typical songwriter. And he went for the throat. "Sunday Morning Coming Down."
Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one more for dessert
Then I fumbled through my closet
Found my cleanest dirty shirt
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
You can look at Nashville pre-Kris and post-Kris, because he changed everything. That one song ruined Tom T. Hall's poker parties. It might have sent him to the crazy house. God forbid he ever heard any of my songs.
You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
You say, “Who is that man?”
You try so hard
But you don’t understand
Just what you're gonna say
When you get home
You know something is happening here
But you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
If "Sunday Morning Coming Down" rattled Tom's cage, sent him into the looney bin, my song surely would have made him blow his brains out, right there in the minivan. Hopefully he didn't hear it.
I just released an album of standards, all the songs usually done by Michael Buble, Harry Connick Jr., maybe Brian Wilson's done a couple, Linda Ronstadt done 'em. But the reviews of their records are different than the reviews of my record.
In their reviews no one says anything. In my reviews, [inaudible] they've got to look under every stone when it comes to me. They've got to mention all the songwriters' names. Well that's OK with me. After all, they're great songwriters and these are standards. I've seen the reviews come in, and they'll mention all the songwriters in half the review, as if everybody knows them. Nobody's heard of them, not in this time, anyway. Buddy Kaye, Cy Coleman, Carolyn Leigh, to name a few.
But, you know, I'm glad they mention their names, and you know what? I'm glad they got their names in the press. It might have taken some time to do it, but they're finally there. I can only wonder why it took so long. My only regret is that they're not here to see it.
Traditional rock 'n' roll, we're talking about that. It's all about rhythm. Johnny Cash said it best: "Get rhythm. Get rhythm when you get the blues." Very few rock 'n' roll bands today play with rhythm. They don't know what it is. Rock 'n' roll is a combination of blues, and it's a strange thing made up of two parts. A lot of people don't know this, but the blues, which is an American music, is not what you think it is. It's a combination of Arabic violins and Strauss waltzes working it out. But it's true.
The other half of rock 'n' roll has got to be hillbilly. And that's a derogatory term, but it ought not to be. That's a term that includes the Delmore Bros., Stanley Bros., Roscoe Holcomb, Clarence Ashley ... groups like that. Moonshiners gone berserk. Fast cars on dirt roads. That's the kind of combination that makes up rock 'n' roll, and it can't be cooked up in a science laboratory or a studio.
You have to have the right kind of rhythm to play this kind of music. If you can't hardly play the blues, how do you [inaudible] those other two kinds of music in there? You can fake it, but you can't really do it.
Critics have made a career out of accusing me of having a career of confounding expectations. Really? Because that's all I do. That's how I think about it. Confounding expectations.
"What do you do for a living, man?"
"Oh, I confound expectations."
You're going to get a job, the man says, "What do you do?" "Oh, confound expectations.: And the man says, "Well, we already have that spot filled. Call us back. Or don't call us, we'll call you." Confounding expectations. What does that mean? 'Why me, Lord? I'd confound them, but I don't know how to do it.'
The Blackwood Bros. have been talking to me about making a record together. That might confound expectations, but it shouldn't. Of course it would be a gospel album. I don't think it would be anything out of the ordinary for me. Not a bit. One of the songs I'm thinking about singing is "Stand By Me" by the Blackwood Brothers. Not "Stand By Me" the pop song. No. The real "Stand By Me."
The real one goes like this:
When the storm of life is raging / Stand by me / When the storm of life is raging / Stand by me / When the world is tossing me / Like a ship upon the sea / Thou who rulest wind and water / Stand by me
In the midst of tribulation / Stand by me / In the midst of tribulation / Stand by me / When the hosts of hell assail / And my strength begins to fail / Thou who never lost a battle / Stand by me
In the midst of faults and failures / Stand by me / In the midst of faults and failures / Stand by me / When I do the best I can / And my friends don't understand / Thou who knowest all about me / Stand by me
That's the song. I like it better than the pop song. If I record one by that name, that's going to be the one. I'm also thinking of recording a song, not on that album, though: "Oh Lord, Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood."
Anyway, why me, Lord. What did I do?
Anyway, I'm proud to be here tonight for MusiCares. I'm honored to have all these artists singing my songs. There's nothing like that. Great artists. [applause, inaudible]. They're all singing the truth, and you can hear it in their voices.
I'm proud to be here tonight for MusiCares. I think a lot of this organization. They've helped many people. Many musicians who have contributed a lot to our culture. I'd like to personally thank them for what they did for a friend of mine, Billy Lee Riley. A friend of mine who they helped for six years when he was down and couldn't work. Billy was a son of rock 'n' roll, obviously.
He was a true original. He did it all: He played, he sang, he wrote. He would have been a bigger star but Jerry Lee came along. And you know what happens when someone like that comes along. You just don't stand a chance.
So Billy became what is known in the industry -- a condescending term, by the way -- as a one-hit wonder. But sometimes, just sometimes, once in a while, a one-hit wonder can make a more powerful impact than a recording star who's got 20 or 30 hits behind him. And Billy's hit song was called "Red Hot," and it was red hot. It could blast you out of your skull and make you feel happy about it. Change your life.
He did it with style and grace. You won't find him in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He's not there. Metallica is. Abba is. Mamas and the Papas -- I know they're in there. Jefferson Airplane, Alice Cooper, Steely Dan -- I've got nothing against them. Soft rock, hard rock, psychedelic pop. I got nothing against any of that stuff, but after all, it is called the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Billy Lee Riley is not there. Yet.
I'd see him a couple times a year and we'd always spent time together and he was on a rockabilly festival nostalgia circuit, and we'd cross paths now and again. We'd always spend time together. He was a hero of mine. I'd heard "Red Hot." I must have been only 15 or 16 when I did and it's impressed me to this day.
I never grow tired of listening to it. Never got tired of watching Billy Lee perform, either. We spent time together just talking and playing into the night. He was a deep, truthful man. He wasn't bitter or nostalgic. He just accepted it. He knew where he had come from and he was content with who he was.
And then one day he got sick. And like my friend John Mellencamp would sing -- because John sang some truth today -- one day you get sick and you don't get better. That's from a song of his called "Life is Short Even on Its Longest Days." It's one of the better songs of the last few years, actually. I ain't lying.
And I ain't lying when I tell you that MusiCares paid for my friend's doctor bills, and helped him to get spending money. They were able to at least make his life comfortable, tolerable to the end. That is something that can't be repaid. Any organization that would do that would have to have my blessing.
I'm going to get out of here now. I'm going to put an egg in my shoe and beat it. I probably left out a lot of people and said too much about some. But that's OK. Like the spiritual song, 'I'm still just crossing over Jordan too.' Let's hope we meet again. Sometime. And we will, if, like Hank Williams said, "the good Lord willing and the creek don't rise."
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/music/posts/la-et-ms-grammys-2015-transcript-of-bob-dylans-musicares-person-of-year-speech-20150207-story.html
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 13, 2016 - 09:29am PT
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allusion to Psalms 27:10: "When my father and
mother abandon me, HaShem (G-d) will gather me up."
I went back to the sources and discovered that Dylan's remarks were
almost a verbatim account of the commentary of Rabbi Shimshon Rafael
Hirsch (the spiritual leader of traditional Jewry in Germany in the mid
19th century) on that verse:
"Even if I were so depraved that my own mother and father would
abandon me to my own devices, God would still gather me up and believe
in my ability to mend my ways."
Now, we have no way of knowing if Abram Zimmerman really taught this to
his son or if Bob simply picked it up from a commentary on the Jewish
prayer book (Ps. 27 is recited at the morning and evening prayer
services during the month before the Jewish New Year), but in any case,
the wording is too similar to Hirsch's to ignore. Note how both Hirsch
and Dylan reversed the "father and mother" of the original verse to
"mother and father" and Dylan's use of the phrase "believe in your own
ability to mend your own ways" directly parallels Hirsch's "believe in
my ability to mend my ways".
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Curt
climber
Gold Canyon, AZ
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Oct 13, 2016 - 10:01am PT
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Congratulations to a fellow native Minnesotan !!
Curt
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Captain...or Skully
climber
Boise, ID
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Oct 13, 2016 - 10:15am PT
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Overdue.....congratulations to a Great.
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Fat Dad
Trad climber
Los Angeles, CA
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Oct 13, 2016 - 10:32am PT
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I'm a snobby English major, but I think this is a really a cool choice by the academy. It's said the award is as notable for who did not win as it is for those who did. But this is really a different direction, but certainly well deserved. I'm pretty excited by it.
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chill
climber
The fat part of the bell-curve
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Oct 13, 2016 - 11:22am PT
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Bob deserves it. So Leonard Cohen must be next. Another genius from back then.
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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Oct 13, 2016 - 12:46pm PT
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F*#kin' AAAYY!!
Bob Dylan appreciation day for sure.
If you've never listened close to these lyrics, it's about time, don't you think?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child's balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon, there is no sense in trying
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool's gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying
Temptation's page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you'd just be one more person crying
So don't fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don't hate nothing at all, except hatred
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Made everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It's easy to see without looking too far that not much is really sacred
Our preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the President of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked
An' all the rules of the road have been lodged
It's only people's games that you got to dodge
And it's alright, Ma, I can make it
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you're the one
That can do what's never been done
That can win what's never been won
Meantime life outside goes on all around you
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it that you belong to
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Do what they do just to be
Nothing more than something they invest in
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize and say, "God bless him"
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole that he's in
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn't talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares propaganda, all is phony
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer's pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death's honesty
Won't fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
False goals, I scuff at pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say, "Okay, I have had enough, what else can you show me?"
And if my thought dreams could be seen
They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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Oct 13, 2016 - 01:02pm PT
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If Bob Dylan, Yes.
It's their academy. When they ask you to be the boss, then you can make the call.
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EdwardT
Trad climber
Retired
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Oct 13, 2016 - 01:07pm PT
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The times they are a changin'
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Dr.Sprock
Boulder climber
I'm James Brown, Bi-atch!
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Oct 13, 2016 - 01:12pm PT
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will he accept it?
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Fat Dad
Trad climber
Los Angeles, CA
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Oct 13, 2016 - 02:07pm PT
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I get where sycorax is coming from. I'm a total lit snob as well and believe that what most people believe to be literature (including my wife) is crap. Having said that, the Nobel Academy has a pretty well established history of making some really poor choices. Good ones as well, but their poor choices stand out as a result. In the past, their approach seems to have been, 'Let's see. What country hasn't won in a while..?'
While the Op Ed piece claims that there was no Nobel this year, there have been many years where one can say the same. Tastes in literature are highly subjective as well, so one man's disappointment is another man's joy. I, for example, would have flown to Stockholm and shot someone if John Updike ever won, though many other observations would not have raised an eyebrow. Why did Toni Morrison win when Ralph Ellison did not? Why Mario Vargas Llosa and not Nabakov? I applaud their expansive view of literature, and for choosing probably the single best example I can think of that exemplifies the craft. For the first time in years, this lit snob is excited by the Academy's selection.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 13, 2016 - 02:09pm PT
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Well Nixon played the piano, does that take him out of the running for a Nobel Peace Prize?
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paul roehl
Boulder climber
california
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Oct 13, 2016 - 02:22pm PT
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Sycorax has it right... Grammy, yes...Nobel, I don't think so. Without music do you honestly think his "poetry" would have ever been published? So many good poets out there that deserve more recognition. I like Bob but he's a song and dance man after all.
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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Oct 13, 2016 - 02:29pm PT
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Grammy, yes...Nobel, I don't think so.
Sorry they forgot to ask you guys...heh heh...
Personally, I couldn't be more pleased, but I'm not a litchra-choor snob.
His words have blown me away all my life, therefore, me happy.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 13, 2016 - 02:31pm PT
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Sure why not!
Rumour is that Dylan and Simon are hashing out a plan where zMan refuses the award and it's turned over to all the lonely prophets writing on the subway walls or Art Schnitzler.
He does want to keep the money however.
I have not read by far anything from a vast majority of the winners through the years, however I did read a small portion of Bertrand Russell's (amazingly) voluminous writing and never once thought of it as literature.
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Kalimon
Social climber
Ridgway, CO
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Oct 13, 2016 - 04:09pm PT
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Ring them bells ye heathen from the city that dreams
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries cross the valleys and streams
For they're deep and they're wide
And the world is on its side
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride
Ring them bells Saint Peter where the four winds blow
Ring them bells with an iron hand
So the people will know
Oh it's rush hour now
On the wheel and the plow
And the sun is going down upon the sacred cow
Ring them bells Sweet Martha for the poor man's son
Ring them bells so the world will know that God is one
Oh the shepherd is asleep
Where the willows weep
And the mountains are filled with lost sheep
Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf
Ring them bells for all of us who are left
Ring them bells for the chosen few
Who will judge the many when the game is through
Ring them bells for the time that flies
For the child that cries
When innocence dies
Ring them bells for Saint Catherine from the top of the room
Ring them bells from the fortress for the lilies that bloom
Oh the lines are long and the fighting is strong
And they're breaking down the distance between right and wrong
Songwriters
BOB DYLAN
Published by
Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO
Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.
Congratulations Mr. Dylan!
Thank you for your role in the positive evolution of human consciousness.
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skcreidc
Social climber
SD, CA
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Oct 13, 2016 - 05:13pm PT
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I'm good either way, but the man's a poet. And if they want to call the Nobel Prize his, so be it.
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
Bob Dylan
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
And where have you been my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin'
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you meet my blue-eyed son ?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded in hatred
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what'll you do now my darling young one?
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
And the executioner's face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell and speak it and think it and breathe it
And reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it
And I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my song well before I start singing
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 13, 2016 - 05:24pm PT
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6 April 1965: Dylan’s words ‘come off the page within a loose framework of assonant and consonant rhyme, using shifting eight to twelve syllable iambic rhythms which adjust themselves as naturally to speech as to song’
http://www.theguardian.com/music/from-the-archive-blog/2016/oct/13/chimes-of-freedom-guardian-dylan-poetry-1965
Dylan's poetic accomplishments are of a different nature than what came before. His work was disseminated essentially by his record albums, not by the traditional printed word.
This is what constitutes literature for the people of today, as well as the printed word. The very definition of literature calls for it to be written, not heard.
But the times changed and literature did, too. Bob's stories in verse are amazingly well-told and crafted.
Hey, the way I see it, the music (minus his singing voice on most tracks, unfortunately) is a bonus.
If you can get a child to sit down and READ & COMPREHEND much beyond a few blurps and cliches on the computer monitor, you are doing well. To get them to think deeply and appreciate ideas, you must get them interested in books.
It's not often a child prefers poetry to stories, but then I never liked to bother with poems myself, but I have changed my mind in the last few years.
And the written word, of course, is not different whether it comes on the net or in a book. The ideas are still the same, and I think the Nobel Committee might be thinking along these lines.
If you've checked book prices, the Nooks and other devices are probably worth it just so you picky sorts won't have to dust bookshelves any longer
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Chaz
Trad climber
greater Boss Angeles area
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Oct 13, 2016 - 05:35pm PT
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"Crickets are chirpin' the water is high
There's a soft cotton dress on the line hangin' dry
Window wide open African trees
Bent over backwards from a hurricane breeze
Not a word of goodbye not even a note
She gone with the man in the long black coat."
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skcreidc
Social climber
SD, CA
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Oct 13, 2016 - 05:37pm PT
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For myself, Dylan captured a moment in time where no one else that I remember did. I remember the drop and cover under the desk drills at school. I remember the fear in our community. Deserving of the Nobel or not, I will always be thankful he wrote Hard Rain. A poem that always takes me back to that period of time. A time I never want to forget because these lessons were hard fought, and we were lucky.
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Bruce Morris
Trad climber
Belmont, California
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Oct 13, 2016 - 05:40pm PT
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Well, Bob certainly extended the Elizabethan story-telling ballad tradition passed on all the way from Greensleeves and Matty Groves via Woody Guthrie. Yeah, Dylan really is part of a long, long established English literary tradition. You just don't recognize it when it surfaces in your own time and hits you in the face.
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Fuzzywuzzy
climber
suspendedhappynation
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Oct 13, 2016 - 05:48pm PT
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YES!!!
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Roger Breedlove
climber
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
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Oct 13, 2016 - 06:50pm PT
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Well that is pretty cool. Also, Dylan is a good a pick as anyone else for the times, they are'a changin.
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Fat Dad
Trad climber
Los Angeles, CA
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Oct 13, 2016 - 07:01pm PT
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Ferlinghetti?! You have got to be kidding. He's a second rate poet mentioned only because he has exclusively marketed the Beat poets as a means of keeping his bread buttered. A minor figure in a minor movement mentioned mostly because it sounds cool. That would gut the legitimacy of the Nobel more than awarding it to Danielle Steele. Just comparing poet to poet, Dylan has him beat hands down. I mean, come
Also, I made the point about Ellison vs. Morrison. My point was taste in literature is subjective and there are often factors to support either choice. Given that, I don't see the hand wringing over Dylan. For the first time in years, I'm excited by the selection and the Prize seems relevant.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 13, 2016 - 07:29pm PT
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Well Mr. F and Mr. G were true pioneers, but they both wished they could have done what Mr. Z did. Ginsburg even tried to imitate it.
Anyway, from that era, I rather would have seen Kesey get the prize.
Disclaimer: I have played Frisbee with Bob Dylan at Point Dume, but am not supporting the award on this basis.
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Risk
Mountain climber
Olympia, WA
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Oct 13, 2016 - 08:51pm PT
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http://www.telegraph.co.uk/music/news/breaking-bob-dylan-wins-2016-nobel-prize-in-literature/
The ST peanut gallery speaks, but it is irrelevant.
Speaking after the announcement, Prof Danius compared Dylan to the Ancient Greek poets: "Homer and Sappho – they wrote poetic texts that were meant to be performed with instruments . . . it's the same with Bob Dylan."
There it is. I'm glad to be alive during his lifetime and to have lived what he said and sang. And, to bump into him at The Ahwahnee in 1976, anonymously as just two people.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 13, 2016 - 09:21pm PT
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^do you recall the month? Was Kinky with him?
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Delhi Dog
climber
Good Question...
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Topic Author's Reply - Oct 13, 2016 - 09:35pm PT
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Hey Nita!
Hey Runner!
Great image of Ginsberg + Dylan up there^^
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paul roehl
Boulder climber
california
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Oct 14, 2016 - 06:24am PT
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Yeah, Dylan's the equivalent of Homer and Trump's gonna be president... what the hell good was reality anyway?
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 14, 2016 - 08:20am PT
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Straight out of Tarantula and/or a tenement hall
Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought
countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send
hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to
dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from
the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles,
first fell out with one another
Cream stole the line, if not the riff
And the colors of the sea blind your eyes with trembling mermaids,
And you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave Ulysses:
How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing,
For the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white-lace lips.
manuscript nitemare of cut throat high & low & behold the prophesying blind allegiance to law fox, monthly cupid & the intoxicating ghosts of dogma…
-anonymous
All that having been pasted, you know what Dylan says about awards right?
"tell them to give it to Donovan."
Why you ask?
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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AP
Trad climber
Calgary
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Oct 15, 2016 - 08:27am PT
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I went to a concert celebrating the anniversary of the release of Blood on the Tracks.
The band leader told a story of flying across Minnesota on a passenger jet and looking at the flight monitor (you know the screen with the location of the plane with distances and major cities marked).
Marked on the map was the town of Hibbing.
The programmer must have been a Dylan fan.
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Fat Dad
Trad climber
Los Angeles, CA
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Oct 15, 2016 - 11:20am PT
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I am a proud, elist lit snob and took a couple years worth of classes at UCLA getting my degree, including "weeder" courses intended for those considering graduate school. I can tell sycorax loves his lit (and Faulkner--one of my heroes) given his Yoknapatawpha County reference. However, it is because I am a lit snob that I've been disappointed by the Academy's typical method of choosing a winner based upon unrepresented geography or sex, politically expedient ideas and the like. Often their choices are, in some instances, disappointing or, in other instances, a bad joke. In that sense, though Dylan is not an author, I found his selection no worse than many past choices and, given the quality of his songwriting and a well established literary past of lyric poetry, far better than some who could have received it. It's not a perfect process, I get that. But I for one who have been apoplectic if someone like sycorax's suggestion of Lawrence Ferlinghetti (or similar) would have won it. That would have undermined the value of the award far more than giving it to an outsider like Bob Dylan.
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Risk
Mountain climber
Olympia, WA
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Oct 15, 2016 - 11:32am PT
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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Oct 15, 2016 - 03:29pm PT
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Ain't nobody got time for that Shakespeare and Faulkner bullsh#t. DYLAN!!
BWA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAAAA!
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 15, 2016 - 04:24pm PT
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I enjoyed The Reivers book and film.
I did not know that McQueen dated Cher
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 22, 2016 - 11:19am PT
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Nobel Academy Member Calls Bob Dylan's Silence 'Arrogant'
Now threatening to rescind and give prize to Donovan.
Perhaps, like Albert Grossman taught him, Bob is just waiting for the check to clear before commenting or maybe he's just gotten too many noise complaints.
http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/7549993/nobel-prize-academy-member-calls-bob-dylan-silence-arrogant
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Or maybe just the third wheel on the Number 9 heading south from Caroline.
Only two people have declined a Nobel Prize in literature. Boris Pasternak did so under pressure from Soviet authorities in 1958 and Jean-Paul Sartre, who declined all official honors, turned it down in 1964.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 23, 2016 - 02:00am PT
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The Nobel Prize for Lit was awarded to Jean-Paul Sartre in 1964.
At the time nobody on the Nobel Prize Committee (probably) remotely conceived of Dylan as a recipient.
Times change, as we know.
Dylan's silence is rather disturbing to me, as he is playing the mystery man as he has done so many times before in his career. I don't like it, but accept it.
He's older than that now, and he's just being a turd in the pocket of the establishment, in my opinion, playing fast and loose with the minds of the "establishment," as always.
Trouble is, now we olfarts are the establishment. We, who have accepted his foibles all our adult lives, saying that it's just Bob being Bob, should not expect him to act differently.
The times have changed since Sartre felt bound to give legitimate reasons for his refusal of the prize or any other prize.
He wrote:
My reasons for refusing the prize concern neither the Swedish Academy nor the Nobel Prize in itself, as I explained in my letter to the Academy. In it, I alluded to two kinds of reasons: personal and objective.
The personal reasons are these: my refusal is not an impulsive gesture, I have always declined official honors. In 1945, after the war, when I was offered the Legion of Honor, I refused it, although I was sympathetic to the government. Similarly, I have never sought to enter the Collège de France, as several of my friends suggested.
This attitude is based on my conception of the writer’s enterprise. A writer who adopts political, social, or literary positions must act only with the means that are his own—that is, the written word. All the honors he may receive expose his readers to a pressure I do not consider desirable. If I sign myself Jean-Paul Sartre it is not the same thing as if I sign myself Jean-Paul Sartre, Nobel Prizewinner.
The writer who accepts an honor of this kind involves as well as himself the association or institution which has honored him. My sympathies for the Venezuelan revolutionists commit only myself, while if Jean-Paul Sartre the Nobel laureate champions the Venezuelan resistance, he also commits the entire Nobel Prize as an institution.
The writer must therefore refuse to let himself be transformed into an institution, even if this occurs under the most honorable circumstances, as in the present case. http://www.nybooks.com/articles/1964/12/17/sartre-on-the-nobel-prize/
It would be silly and presumptuous to speculate as to why Bob has not claimed the prize. It would be a polite gesture, and the act of a gentleman, to do as JPS did and give some reasonable explanation, but he is not bound to do so.
Regardless, the prize is his, it's a done deal, and the prize committee will not rescind the award. He's stuck with it.
As to whether his work is literature, it is small-minded (read snobbish) to say that it's not. Simply because a person has a sheepskin does not make him right. It only shows he's smart enough to earn one.
Beauty is in the mind of the beholder. You either like it or you don't.
Critics and lawyers and hoteliers, three groups we are well to not listen to too much.
How now, zBrowncow?
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Oct 23, 2016 - 08:29am PT
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Bob Dylan removes mention of Nobel prize from website
After taking nearly a week to acknowledge award of Nobel prize in literature, sentence noting it disappears from his website
Some fans have suggested Dylan should refuse the title of Nobel laureate – though the Nobel committee does not acknowledge refusals, and continues to list its winners whether or not they want the prize – because the Nobel prize’s founder, Alfred Nobel, was an armaments manufacturer. “My only caveat about the award is that it cheapens Dylan to be associated at all with a prize founded on an explosives and armaments fortune,” Will Self told the Guardian.
However, Dylan – in keeping with his refusal to be categorised – has often associated himself with things that are, to say the least, unexpected. He has in the past appeared in adverts for Victoria’s Secret lingerie, Cadillac and Chrysler cars and Pepsi.
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/oct/21/bob-dylan-unacknowledges-nobel-prize-literature-win-removed-website
The woman I love has got devil in her jaw
Clothes she's wearing made out of the best of cloth
She can take 'em and wash 'em, put 'em upside a wall
She can throw 'em out a window, pick 'em up a little before the fall
Sometimes I think you got your habits on
She said You shouldn't say that
I said What did I say to piss you off this time baby?
She said Umm...
I don't know, my oh my, I don't know
But my baby's holding down
-Willie Mabon
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Bushman
climber
The state of quantum flux
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Oct 23, 2016 - 08:40am PT
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I'm no study or judge of great literature, having only read what I consider to be some. Yet Dylan's words as poetry have resonated to me throughout my entire life.
I don't identify with the man himself so much, but the spirit and subject matter of his writing in relation to the times we live in has been as relevant as any others IMO. I've never placed much credence in the words of critics, preferring not to not to taint objectivity by their treatment of the validity and value of art.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 23, 2016 - 09:57am PT
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“My only caveat about the award is that it cheapens Dylan to be associated at all with a prize founded on an explosives and armaments fortune,” Will Self told the Guardian.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
It was Alfred Nobel's intention that part of his legacy was his regret that his discovery led to so much death and destruction.
[Click to View YouTube Video]
Using Bob's phrasing, "I'll stand over your graves and regret that you're dead."
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Studly
Trad climber
WA
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Oct 23, 2016 - 01:16pm PT
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Why don't they give it to Snoop dog?
Now I was raised as a young black male
In order to get paid, forced to make crack sales
Caught a nigga so they send me to these overpacked jails
In the cell, countin days in this livin black Hell, do you feel me?
Keys to ignition, use at your discretion
Roll with a twelve gauge pump for protection
Niggaz hate me in the section from years of chin checkin
Turn to Smith and Wesson war weapons
Heavenly Father I'm a soldier, I'm gettin hotter
cause the world's gettin colder, baby let me hold ya
Talk to my guns like they fly bitches
All you bustas best to run look at my bitches
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paul roehl
Boulder climber
california
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Oct 23, 2016 - 06:37pm PT
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Don't think Dylan should have been awarded the Nobel, but you do have to give it up to him for that song "Hallelujah." Such a great song definitely award worthy.
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Studly
Trad climber
WA
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Oct 23, 2016 - 06:50pm PT
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Got to love Pete Seeger.
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couchmaster
climber
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Oct 23, 2016 - 07:03pm PT
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...And the times
they are
a
Changgginnnnnn"
The the the ...that's all folks.
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Flip Flop
climber
Earth Planet, Universe
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Oct 23, 2016 - 08:23pm PT
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Hallelujah was Leonard Cohen ( and another by Martin Sexton)
With Dylan it was always about the songwriting. It's a fantastic body of work.
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paul roehl
Boulder climber
california
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Oct 24, 2016 - 09:15am PT
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Hallelujah was Leonard Cohen ( and another by Martin Sexton)
Guess you got to be a lit. elite to detect bitter irony, dry sarcasm and mockery... oh well.
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Flip Flop
climber
Earth Planet, Universe
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Oct 24, 2016 - 09:33am PT
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Touché. Well done. I laughed inside but decided to play the straight man.
I missed some stuff. I skipped a few grades, most of high school and college.
In that light, I also didn't care for Bob Dylan, mostly out of ignorance. His voice is godawful though. I could dig that he wrote good songs but I couldn't really get into it, man.
I went to the Day on the Green with the Dead and we all thought it sucked pretty bad. For years I said that he was wasted but, on reviewing the video, they're just folk singers. The shittier sounding the better. Now that I'm a man of constant sorrow, I can get down with it.
This blew across my path today. F*#kin Dylan!
Lyrics
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child's balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fools gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proved to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Temptation's page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover
That you'd just be
One more person crying.
So don't fear if you hear
A foreign sound to you ear
It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don't hate nothing at all
Except hatred.
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their marks
Made everything from toy guns that sparks
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It's easy to see without looking too far
That not much
Is really sacred.
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the President of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
It's only people's games that you got to dodge
And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you're the one
That can do what's never been done
That can win what's never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you.
You loose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand without nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to.
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despite their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something
They invest in.
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platforms ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God Bless him.
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he's in.
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.
Old lady judges, watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn't talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony.
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer's pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death's honesty
Won't fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes
Must get lonely.
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
False gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What else can you show me ?
And if my thought-dreams could been seen
They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.
Written by Bob Dylan • Copyright © Bob Dylan Music Co.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 24, 2016 - 09:50am PT
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...he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
At the same time, he who has been born is busily living.
Poetry gets one to think outside that box
That's filled with earnest talks
By men who control bonds and stocks
And own one barrel and locks
And who want us slaves to quarry blocks
To fashion their marbled mausoleums.
Dylan's rapping here,
But it's okay,
It's plain as day.
What else can one say
Except plenty.
The committee could have given Dylan consideration in physics for his work on the motion of rolling stones, which would have raised some eyebrows, caused a furor, started WWIII, or gotten them banned from the ST.
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ms55401
Trad climber
minneapolis, mn
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Oct 28, 2016 - 07:25pm PT
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"if at all possible"
I hope he doesn't attend the award ceremony in Stockholm or wherever because he has a gig playing the Indiana State Fair or something. That would be 100% A+ Gold Star Awesome Fukk-You.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Oct 29, 2016 - 09:14am PT
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Never Ending Tour
Personnel
Bob Dylan – Vocals, Piano, Harmonica
Tony Garnier – Electric Bass, Double Bass
Donnie Herron – Lap Steel, Pedal Steel, Banjo, Mandolin
Stu Kimball – Rhythm Guitar
George Receli – Drums, Percussion
Charlie Sexton – Lead Guitar
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Never_Ending_Tour_2016
"if at all possible" would seem to indicate Bob would like a bit of rest after the tour concludes at the end of November.
The Nobel ceremonial is on December 10.
Whatever, on to Paducah.
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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Geez dudes, I posted It's Alright Ma, on page one, video and lyrics.
No skin off my nose though, I love the song.
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Chaz
Trad climber
greater Boss Angeles area
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"I looked at my watch
I looked at my wrist
I punched myself in the face with my fist
I took my potatoes down to be mashed
and made it on over to that Million Dollar Bash"
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hobo_dan
Social climber
Minnesota
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Dec 10, 2016 - 03:17pm PT
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must of been on tour as he didn't show for the prize-the last free man
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 10, 2016 - 06:51pm PT
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Patti is just as prone to memory glitches as any older person, but accepted her failing and persevered just like the trouper she always is. That was good to see. She gave it a Nobel effort.
Thank you for posting that, Lollie, and Glad Yule till dig!
And Timid, I was gonna SAY...
that I thought YOU might have been a better choice,
what with your ability to recall lyrics of Dylan's longer works.
Glad Yule till dig, too!
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Larry Nelson
Social climber
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Dec 11, 2016 - 01:28pm PT
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In Patti's defense, that is a long winded song to sing without notes or it being a regular on a set list.
On the humorous side, how ironic it's a song with the line:
"I'll know my song well before I start singing."
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Chaz
Trad climber
greater Boss Angeles area
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Dec 11, 2016 - 05:43pm PT
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Well, she's got Jet Pilot eyes from her hips on down.
All the bombardiers are trying to force her out of town.
She's five feet nine and she carries a monkey wrench.
She weighs more by the foot than she does by the inch.
She got all the downtown boys, all at her command
But you've got to watch her closely 'cause she ain't no woman
She's a man.
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dirtbag
climber
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Dec 13, 2016 - 02:06pm PT
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Smith's performance was beautiful, and her hiccup endearing.
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ecdh
climber
the east
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Dec 13, 2016 - 10:00pm PT
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hes no just a singer/song writer. apparently his main creative outlet is iron work, he makes big gates and upright structures, huge stuff. seriously, exhibits and all at quite prestigious venues.
i read his volume of autobiography and despite being a good read, came away knowing nothing about the guy.
and he did a christmas album.
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donini
Trad climber
Ouray, Colorado
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He just used to be a kid by the name of Zimmerman from the iron belt who performed on the West Bank in Mpls. In the 60's...who would have thought?
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Spider Savage
Mountain climber
The shaggy fringe of Los Angeles
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That is one bizzaro ramble, but you know what? In the end it makes sense.
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Bob Harrington
climber
Bishop, California
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Wow, thanks Ed. Dylan's difficult, but I love him.
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zBrown
Ice climber
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It ain't dogs running free and kind of strange to hear Zimmy reading a script, but
Well, I'm standin' in line in the rain to see a movie starring Gregory Peck
Yeah, but you know it's not the one that I had in mind
He's got a new one out now, I don't even know what it's about
But I'll see him in anything so I'll stand in line
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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zBrown
Ice climber
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Jun 15, 2017 - 02:38pm PT
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Howl on the bow line
-Allen ginzberg
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| Messages 1 - 83 of total 83 in this topic |
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