Tag Archives: bob dylan

#1212: Bob Dylan – Simple Twist of Fate

Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks is the one album of his that has stuck with me for the longest time. I’ve heard a bunch of other Dylan LPs and like a bunch of the songs from them. But front to back, it’s always been Blood… for me. I remember it fully clicking when I was back in university. Second year, for me 2014/15, and it was during that time that the album had been out and about for 40 years – gonna be 50 in a few weeks – and I was a nerd about album anniversaries and that kind of thing. So I was alone in my room, listened through it for what was the second time in my life, and there it was. Was like hearing it in a new light. Alone in a room is the ideal setting for listening to it. And I could add it to the collection of sad albums in my mental space that I seemed to resonate with a lot.

‘Simple Twist of Fate’ is the second song on there. Opener ‘Tangled Up in Blue’ gets things off to a lively start. You wouldn’t be wrong to assume that at least the next one would carry on in the same manner. It does not. Instead, ‘Simple Twist…’ arrives as the solemn, reflective follow-up – still with a bit of a swing to it – with six verses detailing a gradual breakup between two people, seemingly unrelated to Dylan as he sings about them in third person, until he takes it into the first for the final verse where you realise he was singing about his own situation the whole time. Each verse depicts a different stage in the relationship captured. So evocative with the language Dylan incorporates, I think it would be difficult for any listener to be unable to picture their own scenes of what’s happening in their heads. And the simple twist of fate of the title is the one thing that weaves all of these stages together.

The chord progression throughout the song remains the same throughout its duration, so while Dylan’s acoustic guitar stays true to it, the bass guitar played by session musician Tony Brown is allowed to skip a few octaves and play around on the scales. Dylan’s vocal take is notable too, in that for the first few lines of each verse, he delivers his words very simply – there’s maybe a two note melody he utilises when doing so – before suddenly singing phrases that end with a howling wail for their penultimate lines and mentioning the song title in the final ones. Think those wails are meant to symbolize something. A kind of pain or yearning, I’d guess? The singing style is actually very similar to how he approaches the track that comes after ‘Simple Twist…’ on the album. That’s for another day. I imagine this track could be quite the brutal listen, especially if you’re feeling lovelorn or recovering from a past relationship. But then again, it’s good to hear a piece of music that somehow manages to put into words the things you couldn’t. Makes you feel you’re not so alone.

#988: Bob Dylan – One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)

Like other double albums, Bob Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde contains tracks that I can give two thumbs up to. Others not so much. But I’m very sure that when I first heard the album many years back, like 2013 or something, ‘One of Us Must Know’ was one that caught my ear straight away. It was clearly a track that Dylan recognised some potential in himself, as it was selected to be the first single to be released from the album, months in advance. What probably piqued my ears the most was Dylan’s voice. His exaggerated nasal delivery would give comedians and sitcom writers material to go to town with for years to come, particularly the way he uses it throughout this whole album. But it’s certainly unique and leaves its mark. “Sooner or later, one of us must know” sounds much better as “SoOOoneeeer or lAaaterrrrr, ooOone of us must knooOOoooow”. That’s the best way I can capture Dylan’s delivery.

As I’ve come to understand it, it’s from the point of view of a guy who’s pondering on a relationship that ended. Though the clues were there that things were coming to a close, the narrator here seemed to be oblivious to them all. It’s also made clear that he himself was to blame for at least some part of what went on, but, as men usually do, he sort of brushes it off and tries to make it as if the other half is taking things too personally. This is a narrator who has their faults, but they want to make clear that anything they did was never on purpose and that their heart was always in the right place. The other half ends it all, and he realises that it’s just the way it goes sometimes and no malice has been left over. Now, that’s how I’ve always seen it. But now I’m seeing that it may also be one long metaphor alluding to Dylan’s move from acoustic folk music to electric rock that annoyed a lot of people back in the day. Gotta love interpretations.

Musically, I guess I should point you to the piano, played throughout by session musician Paul Griffin. Particularly during those choruses where he’s really flowing up and down the keys, Griffin’s piano is very much the lead instrument for this one. During the low-key verses, the organ played by Al Kooper will rise in the mix with a little melodic hook here and there. And as the end of those verses come closer, there’s a massive increase in intensity that is then released with the gratifying choruses. Then Dylan closes it all out with a jubilant harmonica solo. It’s good stuff, very nice with the dynamics. It’s only the fourth track on Blonde on Blonde, so there’s still a lot more to come within the context of the record. But when you consider that it closes out the first side of the vinyl before you flipped it over to hear side two, it’s a fine way to finish things off. Just for that little bit.

#877: Bob Dylan – Mr. Tambourine Man

The original. ‘Mr. Tambourine Man’ was released as a track on Bob Dylan’s fifth album Bringing It All Back Home, the first of two records he would release in 1965. Three weeks after its release, the track gained a ton of popularity when it was covered by The Byrds. The band’s cover was a number one hit on both sides of the Atlantic, and essentially launched folk rock as this huge movement in music, going on to influence a large number of their peers and bands in the years to come.

I’ll say it now, The Byrds’ cover will get its own post in a couple days. Might as well get that admission out of the way. I like both takes of the song quite a bit. Though while I probably sing along to the Byrds, I pretty much just listen to Dylan’s original. There are only four verses in it, but they contain a lot of words – the majority of which I haven’t memorised. But sometimes all you can do is listen to Dylan here. You have to remember this guy was 23 years old when he wrote this, and yet there’s so much imagery and poetry in his lyricism. His rhyming patterns just remind of all those poems I had to read when studying English back in the day. There’s so much to unpack, and yet it’s all just about this character who Dylan seems to admire for their musical abilities. Well, that’s one way of looking at it anyway.

It’s kept quite simple musically. Bob Dylan plays the acoustic guitar and the harmonica during those instrumental breaks alongside an electric guitar countermelody supplied by folk musician Bruce Langhorne. It is said that he was the inspiration behind ‘Tambourine Man’, as he would play a Turkish frame drum during performances. Keeping things stark and light on the ears really allows Dylan’s voice to come through, and it’s difficult to not get lost in the words. You may make fun of the way he sings it all, but who doesn’t when it comes to Bob Dylan songs. I know it’s something I’m prone to do. Can’t help it. But again, it’s all about the feeling rather than the quality of his singing. There’s plenty of that here.

#823: Bob Dylan – Meet Me in the Morning

Bob Dylan does the blues on ‘Meet Me in the Morning’. The sixth number on Blood on the Tracks, the break-up album of all break-up albums (I think I read that somewhere), is in a standard AABA form that you’ll hear almost every other blues song. But it gets my head nodding every time that rhythm section kicks in. On the track, Dylan howls for his love to come back to him. He wishes to meet her at the intersection of 56th and Wabasha, gives all these poetic and wild examples of the things he’s done to prove that he’s earned her love. By the end, it seems he’s been waiting all day for her to arrive. Safe to say she doesn’t show. Guess he’s left in some pain; the way he sings the track symbolises that, I think.

It’s just that groove, man. There’s a lot of oomph behind that kick drum and the overall rhythm, but there’s also a stiffness to the delivery. It’s all hi-hat, open hi-hat and snare. Never a slam on the ride or crash cymbals. I guess this allows the different guitars and Dylan’s vocal to take over the soundscape. It’s been said that Dylan doesn’t have the greatest singing voice, but I can’t think of another track of his where he tries his hardest than on here. He reaches notes that could really surprise some people who listen to this for the first time. Reaches those higher notes with his chest and giving it a lot of gusto.

It took me a while to properly get into this track. It’s the most recent from that album that I added to my list. That was a couple years back or so. When I really sat down and listened to the record all the way through one day, ‘Morning’ suddenly stood out to me. It carries on a run of 10/10 tracks beginning with the album’s opener. None of which were written in the happiest of times for the man. Definitely my favourite album of his though.

#683: Bob Dylan – Just Like a Woman

It was around this time last year that I came to revisit this album. It’s in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die – a book I got for my 22nd birthday and am still going through to this day. I am on 1968.

I’ve had Blonde on Blonde in my iTunes library since at least 2014(?) Maybe have been earlier. And I didn’t rate ‘Just Like a Woman’ back then. Thought it was okay but I immediately forgot about it. It took the revisit last year to find that it’s one of the best songs on the album.

It’a very pretty. Set in a waltz time with a calm Hammond organ and acoustic guitars. Really what takes up much of the soundscape is Dylan’s striking harmonica and that iconic voice of his. His vocals are not pretty, as you may or may not know, but it’s all about the feeling he gives behind his delivery which he never fails in providing.