‘The songs on this specific
record are not so much songs but rather exercises in tonal breath control,’
Dylan wrote in the liner notes to his 1965 album Highway 61 Revisited.
So now we know what ‘Most of the Time’ and ‘Queen Jane
Approximately’ have in common, apart from being the opening song
on the second side (and sixth track) of a Bob Dylan album. In both performances,
tonal breath control and judicious use of rhyme allow the singer/writer
to vary the lengths of verse-lines erratically while conveying a very
pleasing sense of regular, graceful meter and song structure. As a result,
the flow of language in both is quite engaging, almost intoxicating.
In ‘Most of the Time’, this flow of performed language is
a humorous and elegant exploration-in-depth of the personality of the
speaker, a fictional character who boasts of his ability to ‘hold
(his) own’ and ‘deal with the situation’ at the same
time that he denies that there is a situation (‘I don't even think
about her’) and insists unconvincingly that he's ‘halfways
content’ and that he doesn't ‘hide from the feelings that
are buried inside,’ whatever they might be. He is a person who
has been through a loss as difficult as the one suffered by the narrator
of ‘Man in the Long Black Coat’, and at times it seems he’d
like to see himself as being as humble as that other narrator on this
album who can ask, ‘What good am I?’ - even though he is in
fact being used here by the songwriter and vocalist as an example of
the perils of the disease of conceit (‘I can handle whatever I
stumble upon/I don't even notice she’s gone’). In the first
verse he sounds like a drunk bragging of his ability to hold his liquor
(‘Most of the time/I'm clear focused all around’). Hilariously,
he boasts, ‘I can keep both feet on the ground/I can follow the
path,’ not realizing that the first assertion makes the second
impossible. But that’s okay, because most of the time his head
is on straight. And he’s not afraid of confusion, no matter how
thick.
Throughout this song, Dylan uses his unique way of breathing to bring
this character to life (the different stresses he puts, and doesn’t
put, on the recurring title phrase; the emphatic pause for breath after
‘think’ in ‘I don’t even think about her’).
The song turns on (and probably originated from) its author’s perception
that this familiar phrase, ‘most of the time’, can have contradictory
meanings. At the start of each verse it means ‘usually’ or
‘more often than not’. But the way he sings it at the end
of each verse it means ‘but not always’ (‘Don’t
even remember what her lips felt like on mine...most of the time.’).
Dylan is not necessarily speaking for himself in this song, but like
any novelist or short story writer or actor, he is drawing partly on
his own personal experience to get inside the skin of a fictional character.
Mose Allison, a singer quite gifted at the sort of ironic delivery Dylan
achieves in this performance, once said, ‘Many of my songs suggest
a character who is often described as “laid-back”, “cool”,
or “philosophic”. I am not that character, although I certainly
understand and sympathize with him.’ This last sentence, I believe,
is what Dylan would or could say about the characters portrayed in ‘Most
of the Time’ and many of his other inventions.
Can't Let Go No More by
Markus Prieur
On April 5th 2002, in Stockholm,
Bob Dylan chose to perform his first ‘Solid Rock’ since November
21st 1981. About five weeks later, fifteen European audiences had been
presented with this rocking gem. In May my wife Catina and I had the
pleasure to cross the Irish Sea in order to attend all the eight British
concerts at the end of this fine European tour, thus seeing Dylan perform
‘Solid Rock’ three times, in Cardiff, in Newcastle, and in
London; and solid rock indeed it was, every time. In August ‘Solid
Rock’ was performed twice, once in the US, and once in Canada.
Some probably have asked themselves: Why does Dylan sing a song like
this, with a fervour reminiscent of his early Gospel tours where this
bold confession had its original setting? Why does Dylan in 2002 pull
out these lyrics from 1979 about a lasting relationship with Jesus Christ,
saying that for him this Jesus had been chastised, hated, and rejected?
Why does he tell us that he won’t let go no more of this ‘Solid
Rock’ he keeps hanging on to?
Some might be quick to answer that he is not serious at all in doing
so. He might be faking it, detached from his own lyrics; maybe even
being a hypocrite, pretending to be someone he is not. Some might say
that he is just singing the song for the fun of it, not at all intending
to convey any biblical truth, let alone to share any information about
his abiding faith. Well, I don’t think so!
Having followed Dylan’s set lists very closely for some time now,
as well as the content of the lyrics presented on stage, it was a bit
surprising to see this particular choice after all these years, because
Dylan decided to use the words of one of his own songs to communicate
the state of his personal belief to his audience. But Dylan has conveyed
messages of this sort to his audiences throughout recent years, and
it is my contention that he does this intentionally, both with his choice
of particular songs on some nights and with several juxtapositions of
certain thought-provoking songs.
When commenting on a specific part of Dylan's recent performance repertoire,
it is also possible to read a lot between the lines of numerous lyrics.
Those lyrics would be very well compatible with the biblical viewpoints
clearly conveyed in those performances I would like to spotlight, as
I focus on the more unambiguous lyrics of certain cover songs and certain
Dylan songs performed from February 1999 to September 2002.
‘Po’
Boy, Dressed In Black’ by Richard Jobes
Maybe I’m
nothing but all the things I soak up,’ Bob Dylan said at the age
of twenty-one. Dylan’s ability to assimilate the work of others
into his own has always been a significant part of his art, from his
use of folk and literary traditions to the Bible and pop culture. The
release of ‘Love And Theft’ in 2001, his thirty-second studio
album, saw this aspect of his creative process at its height. The foundations
on which the album are built are some the oldest traditions in American
entertainment. Upon the album’s release much was made of the fact
that it shared its title with a book about minstrelsy by Eric Lott,
and there is little doubt that it served as the source for the name
of the album. Dylan adopts the traditions of the minstrel art and uses
them as the framework upon which he builds his album. ‘Love And
Theft’ on the most basic level can be seen as a self-contained
minstrel performance.
Blackface minstrelsy was the most popular form of
entertainment in America for over a century. Robert C. Toll writes,
‘To some mid-nineteenth-century Americans, it was “the
only true American drama” or the “American National Opera.”
But to most people, it was simply the minstrel show, the best show
in town, any town… From the White House to the Californian gold
fields, from New Orleans to New England, from riverboats and saloons
to 2500-seat theatres. The minstrel show was the first uniquely American
show business form.’ The phenomenon of white men blackening
their faces to imitate the dance and music of black slaves is now
understandably viewed as a product of a deeply racist society, yet
the relationship between the different cultures is considerably more
complex than it first appears. As Lott’s book argues, the art
of blackface minstrelsy was based not only on fear and ridicule, but
also a respect and understanding. The influence that minstrelsy had
upon all aspect of American culture and entertainment was extensive.
Bill C. Malone writes, ‘Minstrelsy introduced or popularised
an abundance of songs, dances, instruments, and instrumental and vocal
styles that moved into the repertories of southern rural folk.’
It is the significance of southern rural folk traditions that is one
of the most striking, and most important, elements of minstrelsy,
and thus ‘Love And Theft’.
It is
an album that constructs a world built upon the myth of what America
is, and, most specifically of all, the romanticised South. ‘Every
one of the records I’ve made has emanated from the entire panorama
of what America is to me,’ Dylan said shortly after the album's
release. The album’s use of minstrel art indicates the form’s
fascination with the Old South, and its ability to recall it. Alexander
Saxton says, ‘When the wandering minstrels carried their fragments
of African-American music back to northern and western cities, they
took them encased in a mythology of the South as a region fascinatingly
different, closely wedded to nature, and above all, timeless.’
It reflects the universality of the Old South myth that very few blackface
minstrels were actually from the South. Alexander Saxton writes, ‘Typical
purveyors of minstrelsy were northern and urban; they were neither
New Englanders nor Southerners (although their parents may have been);
and if of rural or small town origin, were most likely to come from
upper New York State.’
