Every song Bob Dylan wrote or performed can be distilled in a haiku. NOTE FOR READERS: All posts from 2010 to 2014 should be considered out of date. Please disregard them. There are, or will be, new versions of each haiku.
Bob wants his wife back. He reminds her of his songs, Written just for her. This 1976 song from the album "Desire" is the natural bookend to "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands" from 10 years earlier. If that song was the wedding song, this one is the divorce song. It's an urgent, heartfelt plea to Sara to remember the good times that they had doing this and that and going here and there. As we know, it didn't work out.
Lovers on the lam
In Mexico can't avoid
Their persecutors.
"No llores, mi querida, Dios nos vigila, soon the horse will take us to Durango. Agarrame, mi vida, soon the desert will be gone..." This curious song, delivered in an oddball time signature at that, feels like it came straight out of the Sam Peckinpah songbook. Like some curious combination of "The Getaway," "The Wild Bunch," "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid" and "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia," this song from the 1976 album "Desire" is about two lovers and one guitar and a horse, on the run from some unidentified bad guys who want to kill them. They're wandering through Mexico with the chilies drying in the sun, he and Magdalena. He sells his guitar to the baker's boy for some food and a hiding place, but says he'll get another. Don't worry, honey, he says, they'll go to Durango and leave the desert behind and dance the fandango. They travel past the Aztec ruins, and dream of church bells and the moon. He remembers his crime, but vaguely: did he shoot that guy in the cantina? No matter, it's happened, and we can't change the past. They plan to watch a bullfight and drink tequila in the old village of their ancestors, who rode with Pancho Villa into Torreon. They'll get married in the little church, and get dressed up, and then they'll have a reception watched over by God "with his serpent eyes of obsidian." But calamity strikes. His pursuers find him and shoot him from a distance. Wounded, he gives his gun to his sweetheart and bids her to aim well because they might not survive the night.
Man leaves woman.
She's mysterious and wild.
She gives him coffee.
The full story on "One More Cup of Coffee" from the 1976 album "Desire" is more fleshed out than the haiku. She's a wild gypsy of a woman, uneducated yet beautiful, desirable, mysterious, unknowable and wild. And however much our singer wants her, he can't have her, so he's leaving. She seems to be ready to give him one thing, at least, and that's coffee. Or maybe he's made it himself. I don't know, but I've decided that the lyric is ambigious enough to suit the haiku. Her: Sweet breath Eyes like jewels in the sky Straight back Smooth hair No affection, gratitude or love Loyalty to the stars, not to him Dad's an outlaw and a wanderer He knows how to throw knives and plans to teach her the same He's a xenophobe He's weak, presumably old, and hungry Sister, mother and she can see the future She has no education, can't read or write No books She knows how to have a good time She has a voice like a meadowlark Her heart is like the ocean ("mysterious and dark")
You are my sister,
And Dad will be angry if
You don't sleep with me.
It's not a song about incest. It refers to his SPIRITUAL sister and that the father in question is GOD. But why should that stop me from having fun with the haiku? This song, which appeared on the 1976 album "Desire," makes putting out a religious duty rather than George Michael's more straightforward, "I Want Your Sex." Michael says it's natural; Dylan says it's scriptural. And if anything, he seems rather insistent, kind of like a religious Elvis Presley saying, "It's now or never, My love won't wait." Oh, sister, when I come to lie in your arms You should not treat me like a stranger Our Father would not like the way that you act And you must realize the danger (Translation: Why do you not want to have sex with me? God would be unhappy. That's dangerous. Have sex with me.) Oh, sister, am I not a brother to you And one deserving of affection? And is our purpose not the same on this earth To love and follow His direction? (Translation: I deserve to have sex with you. We were put on this earth to have sex. It's what God wants. Have sex with me.) We grew up together From the cradle to the grave We died and were reborn And then mysteriously saved (Translation: We had sex in a previous life. I can't explain it, but I think we should have sex in this life too.) Oh, sister, when I come to knock on your door Don’t turn away, you’ll create sorrow Time is an ocean but it ends at the shore You may not see me tomorrow (Translation: We should have sex. If you don't, you'll make me sad. You'll make God sad. I can tolerate this for only so long. Otherwise, I might find someone else to have sex with.)
Summer holidays
In Mozambique sound like fun.
Watch out for landmines.
"Mozambique" is one of the stranger songs in Bob Dylan's canon. It appeared on the 1976 album "Desire," and was, like most of the songs on the album, written with psychoanalyst, English professor and "Oh! Calcutta!" musical director Jacques Levy. It's a short song about a romantic getaway to the sunny beaches and tropical paradise of Mozambique. At that time, the southeastern African nation and former Portuguese colony was just getting over a 10-year insurgency against its former colonizer, and was busy being mined to the gills. It was, perhaps, an imaginary Mozambique in another universe. Attributes of the fake Mozambique: - Sunny sky, aqua blue - Couples dance cheek to cheek - Nice place to visit for a week or two - Lots of pretty girls - Lots of time for romance - Lots of time to hang out and chat - Opportunities to find a lover - Opportunities to say hello with a glance - Time to hang out with your honey on the beach
Mobster Joe Gallo
Shoots up the town, goes to jail,
Gets out, gets murdered.
I'm not a "Joey" fan, though not because it's historically inaccurate. Nobody asked Dylan to write a musical documentary of Crazy Joe Gallo. I just can't accept the elegiac tone that Dylan and co-writer Jacques Levy apply to the story. I like mob movies and I'm a fan of "The Sopranos," and I can understand how killers, drug dealers, loan sharks and other such people have emotions, feelings, families and so on just liek we do, and that bad things happen to them too. But to devote 11 minutes of sympathy to someone like Joe Gallo seems like a stretch. You can find the song on "Desire," which Dylan released in 1976. 1. Born in Red hook. An outsider. 2. Nicknamed "crazy." 3. Gamblers. Poor things, always caught between the mob and the police. 4. Why did they want to kill the poor guy? 5. People say they killed their rivals, but that's a lie. When someone tried to kill Joey's brother Larry, he went out for revenge. 6. Mob war. The Gallos take hostages. 7. Someone says, let's kill the hostages. Joey says no. We need "peace and quiet." This is after he starts a war. 8. Police arrest him. He gets 5-10 in Attica. 9. He reads Nietzsche (and William Reich, say the lyrics, though I don't recall hearing it that way) 10. He gets solitary. 11. He gets along with black men, a sign of his moral superiority and innocence because they all know whta it feels like to be slaves 12. He gets out in 1971. He lost weight. He wants his old job back. 13. He stops carrying guns because he's around kids too much. He robs his rival's clubhouse. 14. He gets shot while at dinner at a clam bar. He dies on the streets of Little Italy. 15. His sister and mother cry. His friend Frankie refuses to accept that he's dead. His father's limousine goes back to the grave one last time. 16. The sun sets and Brooklyn mourns for Joey. God will punish his killers. Come. On.
Man leaves a woman,
Tomb-raids icy pyramid,
Comes back to woman.
"Forget about it, Jake, it's Egypttown." Bob Dylan's epic song "Isis," which gave audiences a completely different mystery to ponder after "Hurricane" on the 1976 album "Desire," is one of the most curious stories that he has ever produced. The haiku focuses on the barest details of the plot. Unfortunately, there is too much here to pack it all in. Here's the rest of the story: 1. Guy marries Isis on May 5, ie, Cinco de Mayo. 2. He loses Isis pretty quickly, cuts off his hair (mourning?), rides off to the wild country in search of opportunity. 3. Arrives at high place. Darkness/light. Town divided down the middle. Guy hitches his pony on the right side, and takes his clothes to the laundry. 4. Stranger asks for a match. Guy finds him strange. Strangers asks the singer if he's looking for some easy work. Guy says he has no money. Stranger says, it's cool. 5. They head north. Guy lends stranger a blanket, guy lends the singer his promise. He says they'll be back by the fourth, which is one day BEFORE our singer married Isis. 6. Singer thinks about jewels and gold. They ride through freezing canyons and he thinks about Isis. 7. She once told him that they could try again and things would be different, but she needs his patience. She said more and better, but he can't remember what that was. 8. The men arrive at pyramids embedded in ice. The stranger says he needs to rob a corpse from them so he can make a lot of money. 9. Wind and snow. They chop through the ice. Stranger dies. Singer keeps going. 10. No body. Damn. 11. Singer puts the stranger's body IN the pyramid, the second instance in this song of time running either backwards or in a circular motion. 12. Singer returns to Isis. Sun's in his eyes and he's coming in from the East, so it must be evening, or else it's morning in a world where time runs backward. 13. She asks where he's been. He hems and haws. She asks if he'll stay. He says, OK, but only if you want me to. 14. Good lyric alert: "What drives me to you is what drives me insane." Singer reminisces about the rainy day when he married Isis. I have no idea whether they ended up together. It sounds like they don't. And I would be pretending if I said I knew what this song is about, but it's one of my favorite.
Police frame boxer
For murder while the bad guys
Get away with it.
The story of the wrongful imprisonment of middleweight boxer Rubin "Hurricane" Carter is well known to many younger people because of the Norman Jewison film starring Denzel Washington as Carter. Dylan's version, which opened the 1976 album "Desire," remains well known long after the events took place. It's not a work of journalism -- there are omissions and elisions, but it still had the effect of telling the world about Carter's wrongful imprisonment. A short reminder: Carter was charged with a triple murder at a bar and grill in Patersonm, New Jersey in 1966 and sent to jail. A second trial produced a guilty verdict and a sentence of two consecutive life terms. In 1985, a judge ruled that Carter did not receive a fair trial, and that racism was to blame. The prosecution in 1988 declined to seek a third trial, and a Superior Court judge dropped the charges. Dramatis personae: Hurricane Carter: boxer Patty Valentine: witness Bartender: dead in pool of blood Two other bodies: also shot. One turns out to be not quite dead. He refuses to ID Carter. Alfred Bello: Just robbing the register, not killing people Arthur Dexter Bradley: Bello's partner Judge: Hears unqualified defense witnesses (winos) White folks: Thought Carter was a "revolutionary bum" Black folks: Thought Carter was a "crazy n*****" District Attorney: Liar Jury: Complicit Journalists: Irresponsible Criminals: White-collar rich people who should be in jail
I don't like songs about baseball. Well, I don't like most songs about baseball. There are exceptions, but songs about sports generally leave me cold. "Catfish," a Jacques Levy-Bob Dylan collaboration that was recorded for the 1976 album "Desire," but ultimately left off, is no exception. The song is basic. Catfish Hunter is a great baseball player, nobody can play like he can, and so on. That's all very nice. The Dylan touches that make it a little more sly deal with Billy Martin grinning, Catfish's pinstripe suit and cigar and alligator boots, and that kind of thing. Best of all is the line about striking out Reggie Jackson on the Yankees:
Reggie Jackson at the plate
Seein’ nothin’ but the curve
Swing too early or too late
Got to eat what Catfish serve
That's pretty good writing.
The song, meanwhile, appeared on the first installment of the Bootleg Series in 1991. And here is Joe Cocker's version from the "Stingray" album.
Bob brings a cinematic scope to "Black Diamond Bay," the penultimate song on the 1976 album "Desire." A bunch of preoccupied, neurotic international types whom you would expect to find in a Graham Greene novel get up to various pointless activities before a volcano blows and an earthquake visits destruction on this tropical resort island. The whole place vanishes from the earth, leaving a Panama hat worn by the woman we meet in the first verse, and a pair of old Greek shoes, presumably worn by the Greek man we meet in verse two (who's mistaken by the woman for the Soviet ambassador), who showed up at the front desk to ask for rope (suicide) and a pen (note).
There's a ton of activity going on here, and if you want a thorough rumination on WHAT IT ALL MEANS, I recommend reading Tony Attwood's blog post at Untold Dylan. He might be right or wrong, and probably is both at times, but he's entertaining and fun to read. The summary is here:
1. Woman with a presumably false passport hangs out on the veranda, her past eluded at last. The last ship leaves Black Diamond Bay.
2. The Greek asks for his last implements. The desk clerk with the fez seems to realize that he's up to no good. We have the Soviet ambassador moment.
3. Thunderstorm, power outage. Soldier buys a ring from a midget, while the losing gambler in the casino seeks another deck of cards, only to be told to wait by the dealer.
4. Soldier tries to give the woman the ring; she won't take it. She visits the Greek who is busy hanging himself so he won't let her in. At some point, we can guess that the earthquake is happening, but all we get at this point is the volcano as the woman tries to escape and the soldier and the little person freak out. The desk clerk seems to have seen this all happen before.
5. The island starts sinking, the woman is praying, and a stranger says he loves her. The loser wins at cards just a bit too late to spend the money, as the dealer notes.
6. Bob's at home watching Walter Cronkite read the news, and hears about the whole thing. He gets another beer after turning off the news as he couldn't care less.
Let’s have sex again. This is an improvement over the previous version of this haiku, which covers a song that Dylan recorded in 1975 to run on the 1976 album, "Desire." The song was released in 1985 on the "Biograph" anthology, while the original haiku appeared here a few years ago. It's embarrassing to me now because it has no relation to the song. In fact, I'm not sure that I even knew what song I was listening to. This song, say the Dylan scholars, relates to his breakup with his wife Sara Lownds. Regardless of whether that's true, let's leave aside the biographical particulars and concentrate on the lyrics. The singer is ready to leave, though it might be possible that she's doing the leaving. One thing is certain: he wants a little more loving before he departs into the chasm of melancholy. Breakup sex, as we can see, is a matter of literary concern. Dylan fans like the live version that he performed at the Bitter End cafe in Greenwich Village in 1975 (apparently known as the Other End at the time). I posted it here after failing to embed it properly, thanks to unusual and restrictive policies that Google enforces. Here is the studio version that he recorded for "Desire."
