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http://www.musicbox-online.com/filmreviews-2007/bob-dylan-newport-10292007.html
“Director Murray Lerner’s decision to offer the footage without any critical explication is a brilliant one…There are no voice-overs from Dylan experts or social historians to mar the proceedings…The visuals and music tell the story perfectly without any unnecessary intervention.”
That’s music to my ears!http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/09/arts/09dylan-sub.html?_r=1&ref=arts&oref=slogin
November 9, 2007
Music Review | ‘I’m Not There’
A Tribute to Bob Dylan, Both Reverent and Rowdy
By JON PARELESThere weren’t many pretty voices at “I’m Not There,” a tribute to Bob Dylan at the Beacon Theater on Wednesday night tied in with the coming Todd Haynes film. Mr. Dylan wasn’t there, but echoes of his voice were. Singers rasped, cackled and near-yodeled, and the songs thrived on the treatment. They were written to provoke, not to soothe.
The concert didn’t push Mr. Dylan’s adaptable songs very far. It was a night of folk-rock, full of strummed acoustic guitars. Some singers were backed by the Southwestern mariachi-rock band Calexico; others had the Million Dollar Bashers — led by Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth and including the guitarist J Mascis from Dinosaur Jr. and the keyboardist Al Kooper, Mr. Dylan’s 1960s sideman — which aimed for what Mr. Dylan once called the “wild mercury sound” of “Blonde on Blonde” and got fairly close. Another Dylan sideman, David Mansfield on fiddle and pedal steel guitar, sat in throughout the concert.
The two dozen songs in the set mingled the familiar and the obscure, protest and picaresque. The concert didn’t include Mr. Dylan’s newly released song “I’m Not There.” But Mr. Ranaldo performed another rarity: a love song, “Can’t Leave Her Behind,” that Mr. Dylan is shown writing in 1966 in the movie “Eat the Document.”
An expanded Yo La Tengo unearthed “I Wanna Be Your Lover” (from Mr. Dylan’s “Biograph”) and romped through it, with Ira Kaplan applying full nasality to the words, while Terry Adams (from NRBQ), on electric piano, and the Louisiana zydeco kingpin Stanley (Buckwheat) Dural, on organ, tossed keyboard jibes back and forth.
There was a slight generation gap. Older performers treated Mr. Dylan’s songs like rowdy pals. Mr. Adams drawled through “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35” with some casual lyrics of his own, some two-fisted barrelhouse piano and an appropriately stoned-out attitude. Mr. Kooper sang “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry” with bluesy familiarity. He made lines stretch or crack, like Mr. Dylan with a touch of Ray Charles, while chords puffed up from his electric organ, and the Uptown Horns riffed behind him.
Chris Bailey, from the 1970s Australian garage-punk band the Saints, belted “Maggie’s Farm,” backed by the Million Dollar Bashers, with its defiance intact. And Yo La Tengo turned “4th Time Around” inward, making it a hypnotic waltz behind Georgia Hubley’s serene voice.
Younger performers were more reverent toward the songs. Tift Merritt, who had the night’s purest voice, sang “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” with cresting drama in each verse, bringing out both the song’s revelations and its touches of lullaby. Ian Ball of Gomez sang “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right” with a blended nonchalance and resentment, pausing in the refrain after “Don’t think twice” for a little tension.
Jim James, backed by Calexico, sang “Goin’ to Acapulco” (from “The Basement Tapes”) with such mournful insistence that its humor completely disappeared. Later his own band, My Morning Jacket, brought pealing, celebratory Southern-rock chords to “Tonight I’ll Be Staying Here With You.”
The showstopper, as it was at a previous Dylan tribute from this concert’s producer Michael Dorf, was the Roots’s version of “Masters of War,” which starts with the melody of “The Star-Spangled Banner” and later borrows riffs from Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix. It was Dylan completely revamped, not just revived.
Would’ve enjoyed seeing J Mascis in action
http://movies.nytimes.com/2007/11/21/movies/21ther.html
“To slog through the present requires no particular wit, vision or art. But a certain kind of artist will comb through the old stuff that’s lying around — the tall tales and questionable memories, the yellowing photographs and scratched records — looking for glimpses of a possible future.”
Yes, indeedy. 8)
http://www.uncut.co.uk/news/bob_dylan/news/10895
Bob Dylan is set to release a live album containing a number of classic performances from television.
“Re-Transmissions”, released on March 3 and only available in Britain, includes Dylan’s sets from Saturday Night Live in 1979, 1985’s Farm Aid and the Grammy Awards in 1991.
The compilation, which comes with a 72-page CD-sized book, also features a historic 1990 hook-up with The Byrds on a version of ‘Mr Tambourine Man’.
The tracklisting is as follows:
“Gotta Serve Somebody” (Saturday Night Live, 1979)
“I Believe In You” (Saturday Night Live, 1979)
“When You Gonna Wake Up” (Saturday Night Live, 1979)
“I’ll Remember You” (Farm Aid, 1985)
“Maggie’s Farm” (Farm Aid, 1985)
“Mr Tambourine Man” (with The Byrds, 1990)
“Masters Of War” (Grammy Awards, 1991)
“It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” (30th Anniversary Concert, 1992)
“My Back Pages” (30th Anniversary Concert, 1992)
“All Along The Watchtower” (Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, 1995)
“Seeing The Real You At Last” (Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, 1995)
“Highway 61 Revisited” (Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, 1995)Bob wins a Pulitzer…
SPECIAL CITATION: Bob Dylan, “for his profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power.”
You deserve some kind of prize for writing a song like this…
Chimes of Freedom
Far between sundown’s finish an’ midnight’s broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing
Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
An’ for each an’ ev’ry underdog soldier in the night
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.In the city’s melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden while the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin’ rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned an’ forsaked
Tolling for the outcast, burnin’ constantly at stake
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
An’ the unpawned painter behind beyond his rightful time
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations
Tolling for the deaf an’ blind, tolling for the mute
Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased an’ cheated by pursuit
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.Even though a cloud’s white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
An’ the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
An’ for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.Starry-eyed an’ laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an’ we watched with one last look
Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.Copyright © 1964; renewed 1992 Special Rider Music
http://www.usatoday.com/life/music/news/2008-07-28-dylan-telltale-signs_N.htm
http://www.emediawire.com/releases/2008/8/prweb1187564.htm
“Money doesn’t talk, it swears.”
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/ref=pe_32340_10270210_pe_00_head/?ASIN=B001D06SEI
This scared the #@%& out of me when I first saw it – – I thought Harry Dean Stanton was Bob 😯
The Bobster’s no Adonis, but HDS looks cadaverous!
From “The New Yorker,” issue dated 9/22/2008
“In the early nineteen-sixties, the photographer Barry Feinstein asked his friend Bob Dylan to write some text to accompany a series of pictures of Hollywood. The result of the collaboration, rejected by a publisher at the time, will appear in November.”
“17”
after crashin the sportscar
into the chandelier
i ran out t the phone booth
made a call t my wife. she wasnt home.
i panicked. i called up my best friend
but the line was busy
then i went t a party but couldnt find a chair
somebody wiped their feet on me
so i decided t leave
i felt awful. my mouth was puckered.
arms were stickin thru my neck
my stomach was stuffed an bloated
dogs licked my face
people stared at me an said
“what’s wrong with you?”
passin two successful friends of mine
i stopped t talk.
they knew i was feelin bad
an gave me some pills
i went home an began writin
a suicide note
it was then that i saw
that crowd comin down
the street
i really have nothing
against
marlon brando
“21”
death silenced her pool
the day she died
hovered over
her little toy dogs
but left no trace
of itself
at her
funeral
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