Sarah Jane

Dylan’s boat is called
The "Big MacMillan." He rides
It with Sarah Jane.

I'm touched that Dylan recorded a song that mentions my last name, but I think he was just looking for the name of a riverboat that would fit the rhythm of the song. "Sarah Jane" is not one of his songs, but an old and obscure slice of Americana that I think, though I can't remember for sure, comes from post-Civil War days. The track was released without Dylan's authorization three or four years after he recorded it, on the 1973 album "Dylan."

Basically: 
- I have a wife and five children.
- I'm going to take a trip on the Big MacMillan
- I'm taking Sarah Jane, and plan to rock about her. (You know what that means)
- Various ills befall the captain and the ship. Gonna have to relax about all that and just rock with Sarah Jane
- Yankees build boats to shoot at the rebels. Bob's going to hold his own gun steady and level.
- And back to the first verse again.

Mr. Bojangles

Jailed drunk tells his tale
Of dancing for booze money
And how his dog died.

"Mr. Bojangles" was a huge hit for Jerry Jeff Walker when he released it in 1968. There are tons of covers out there from all sorts of artists: Garth Brooks, Harry Belafonte, JJ Cale, Sammy Davis Jr., Neil Diamond, Arlo Guthrie, Whitney Houston, Billy Joel, Elton John, Rod McKuen, Nina Simone, William Shatner, Cat Stevens, Robbie Williams and Dolly Partner. I don't quite understand what makes it irresistible, but it's certainly unforgettable. I don't really like sympathetic songs about chronically stumbling drunks, and the story line is ridiculous, but it forces its nostalgia on me because this was a song that is inseparable from the 1970s when I was growing up. It also makes a naked grab for your emotions, and I hate it when the grab works. Each time I hear it, back I go. Dylan's version appeared on the 1973 album "Dylan," which contained studio recordings that he had not intended to release. Columbia released them anyway in a catty move after he decamped to David Geffen's Asylum Records. Whether they were intended to dent future sales because of their plainly substandard quality is unknown, at least to me. Having said that, and I've said this before, I like the album.

PS, here is the Wikipedia entry on Walker's inspiration for the song:
Walker said while in jail for public intoxication in 1965, he met a homeless white man who called himself "Mr. Bojangles" to conceal his true identity from the police. He had been arrested as part of a police sweep of indigent people that was carried out following a high-profile murder. The two men and others in the cell chatted about all manner of things, but when Mr. Bojangles told a story about his dog, the mood in the room turned heavy. Someone else in the cell asked for something to lighten the mood, and Mr. Bojangles obliged with a tap dance.

Mr. Bojangles:

I knew a man Bojangles and he'd dance for you 
In worn out shoes 
With silver hair, a ragged shirt, and baggy pants 
The old soft shoe 
He jumped so high, jumped so high 
Then he lightly touched down

I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was 
down and out 
He looked to me to be the eyes of age 
as he spoke right out 
He talked of life, talked of life, he laughed 
clicked his heels and stepped 

He said his name "Bojangles" and he danced a lick 
across the cell 
He grabbed his pants and spread his stance, 
Oh he jumped so high and then he clicked his heels 
He let go a laugh, let go a laugh 
and shook back his clothes all around 

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance

He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs 
throughout the south 
He spoke through tears of 15 years how his dog and him 
traveled about 
The dog up and died, he up and died 
And after 20 years he still grieves 

He said I dance now at every chance in honky tonks 
for drinks and tips 
But most the time I spend behind these county bars 
'cause I drinks a bit 
He shook his head, and as he shook his head 
I heard someone ask him please 

Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance.

Mary Ann

A man goes sailing.
He promises to return
To sweet Mary Ann.

Mary Ann is a folk variation on the song "The True Lover's Farewell," which first appeared in a published version in the collection "Roxburghe Ballads" from 1710. Related songs include "A Red, Red Rose" by Robert Burns, as well as "My Dear Mary Ann," "The Turtle Dove" and "Ten Thousand Miles." Here are some lyrics that I turned up on a website called "Mainly Norfolk: English Folk and Other Good Music." I love the maritime air of this song. Dylan's version, which he recorded in 1969 or 1970, I think, was included on the "Dylan" album of 1973, an album full of songs released without Dylan's consent after he left Columbia Records under the lure of David Geffen. Dylan's voice is especially nasal, and few people find the track any good, but I'm a sucker for this recording, particularly the backup singers.

1. 
Then fare ye well my own true love,
Then fare ye well for a while;
The ship is a-waiting and the wind blows high,
I'm bound away to the sea, Mary Ann.

Ten thousand miles away from home,
Ten thousand miles or more,
The sea will freeze and the earth will burn
If I never no more return to you, Mary Ann.

Do you see the grass that's under your feet
Arise and grow again?
For love it is a killing thing,
Don't you ever feel the pain, Mary Ann?

Oh do you see yon crow fly high,
She'll surely turn to white,
If I ever prove false to you, my dear,
Morning turn to night, Mary Ann.


2. 
Oh fare you well my own true love,
Oh fare you well my dear;
The ship is waiting and the wind is high,
And I am bound away to the sea, Mary Ann,
Yes, I am bound away to the sea, Mary Ann.

Ten thousand miles away from you,
Ten thousand miles or more,
But the earth will freeze and the sea will burn
If I never no more return to you, Mary Ann,
If I never no more return to you, Mary Ann.

A lobster boiling in the pot,
And a blue fish on the hook,
They're suffering long but it's nothing like
The ache I feel for you, my dear Mary Ann,
Like the ache I feel for you, my dear Mary Ann.

Oh had I brought a flask of gin
With sugar here for two
And a great big bowl for to mix it in,
I'd pour a drink for you, my dear Mary Ann,
Yes, I'd pour a drink for you, my dear Mary Ann.

So fare you well my own true love,
Fare you well my dear;
The ship is waiting and the wind is high,
And I am bound away to the sea, Mary Ann,
Yes, I am bound away to the sea, Mary Ann.

Lily of the West

Young Flora trades up.
Her ex kills her new boyfriend.
He goes to prison.

Another siren singing her song and luring men to their doom, Flora is the so-called "Lily of the West." She and the story of her jealous lovers appeared on the 1973 album "Dylan," having been salvaged by Columbia Records from sessions that Bob Dylan recorded several years earlier. Most critics regard the album as a weak hodgepodge of Dylan slumming it through various traditional songs, though I like his Nashville-ish country sound of the period. This song does contain an annoying harpischord or some kind of antique keyboard instrument, but I think it's a consequence of the slapdash overdubbing that the producers stuck on the rehearsal tracks. I still wonder whether the attitude in this  As for the song, it's an old Irish and English ballad, and has been covered many times by many people. A man falls in love with Flora, a girl in Louisville. She leaves him for another man. He kills the new guy and goes to prison, and remains in love with Flora. Don't try this at home.

Can't Help Falling in Love

It might be foolish,

But I love you like the sea

Loves the big river.

This song, set to the tune of "Plaisir d'Amour," was a big hit for Elvis Presley in 1961. Dylan's version was recorded during sessions for the "New Morning" album in 1970, and released on the "Dylan" album in 1973, without his input or approval. It's shambolic like most of the rest of the songs on that album, but I have affection for it in the way that I would have for a silly-looking dog. The haiku lines come from the verse of the song that says, "Like a river flows surely to the sea, Darling so it goes some things are meant to be." I ignored the famous line from the Bible about wise men saying that fools rush in (where angels fear to tread), figuring that it's overdone. I like the river/sea line, and thought it wouldn't hurt to suggest that the sea "loves" the fresh water the way the singer loves his honey.

Big Yellow Taxi

They chopped down the trees,

Destroyed the environment.

Nobody noticed.

Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi" is, according to most Dylan listeners, one of the man's least impressive attempts to be released. It's inferior to most versions of the song that I've heard, but it comes from that 1969-1971 Dylan period whose music always gives me a particular feeling that I can't describe -- the country rock stuff to which I've referred before -- so I can't object to it too much. This version appeared on the unauthorized Columbia Records release "Dylan" in 1973 while Dylan was busy giving Columbia the big kiss-off.

The song, of course, is Mitchell's bemused take on the destruction of the natural world as mankind builds more and more stuff, then fences "nature" off in a museum and charges people to see the trees. She couples it with the big yellow taxi that comes to take away her lover because he's had enough. It's famous for the line, "Don't it always seem to go, you don't know what you've got till it's gone, They paved paradise and put up a parking lot."

The Ballad of Ira Hayes

Indian Marine

Raises Iwo Jima flag.

Goes home, drinks, and dies.

Bob Dylan recorded this Peter La Farge song in 1969 or 1970 for the "Self Portrait" album, though it didn't appear until Columbia released the "Dylan" album in 1973 after Dylan left the label for Geffen Records. The song, which most people know from the Johnny Cash version on "Bitter Tears," is about the death of Pima tribesman who was among the military men who raised the American flag on Mount Suribachi during the Battle of Iwo Jima.

Hayes came home a hero, a status with which he was uncomfortable. He became an alcoholic and eventually froze to death, drunk, in Arizona.

A Fool Such As I

Sometimes you find fools

Who let their hearts get broken.

I am such a fool.

There are two commercially released recordings of Bob Dylan's performance of this delightful song, first popularized by country singer and proud Nova Scotian Hank Snow. The first to be released was on the 1973 album "Dylan." Columbia Records put the album out without Dylan's permission after the singer dropped his label in favor of a deal with David Gaffen's Asylum Records. Dylan returned to Columbia to release "Blood on the Tracks" and "Dylan" dropped from sight for a long time, the victim of fan disdain for saccharine overdubs and indifferent performances of these cover songs from recording sessions a few years earlier.

I like the album. It's not a coherent artistic vision unless you count a series of slapdash standards, folk songs and pop covers that the artist never intended to release as a unified idea, but I like the Dylan sound from "John Wesley Harding" in 1967 through to "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" in 1973. I'm no production expert, but there's a warm country-rock muffled sound from the combination of Nashville musicians and what I guess is the recording technology of the time that reminds me of when I was a little boy and everyone ate granola and wore a lot of denim while going camping and white-water rafting. You could call it the diffusion of hippie culture into the wider world of the middle class. I call it sweet.

Dylan's other recording of the song comes from 1967 The Basement Tapes sessions that were available on bootleg recordings for a long time and were more recently released in "The Bootleg Series Vol. 11: The Basement Tapes Complete." It doesn't bounce around like the Dylan version, and Bob sings in a kind of talky way that nearly comes off as smart-ass irony. It makes me laugh more than it makes me cry, but the man still can bring the emotion in a way that makes the song sound new and different from Hank Snow, Elvis Presley, Jo Stafford and other singers who have covered it.

 

Can't Help Falling in Love

Dylan as Elvis.
Don't be surprised, dear reader.
He's done this before.

Big Yellow Taxi

Joni Mitchell's song
Bemoans development, and
Bob feels the same way.

Ballad of Ira Hayes

Indian Marine
Raises Iwo Jima flag,
Goes home, drinks and dies.

The Ballad of Ira Hayes

Pima Indian
Raises Iwo Jima flag,
Goes home, drinks and dies.