BOB DYLAN: THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN' (1964)
1) The Times They Are
A-Changin'; 2) Ballad Of Hollis Brown; 3) With God On Our Side; 4) One Too Many
Mornings; 5) North Country Blues; 6) Only A Pawn In Their Game; 7) Boots Of
Spanish Leather; 8) When The Ship Comes In; 9) The Lonesome Death Of Hattie
Carroll; 10) Restless Farewell.
One thing that most people have always felt
about Dylan to the near-point of certainty is his egocentric nature.
Behaviorally haughty, instinctively condescending, and in addition to all that,
totally closed to outsiders — where «outsiders» would begin with the closest
friends and relatives and end with everybody else. This is more or less common
knowledge, but I have to bring it up because ever so often, caught up in one or
another side of Dylan's artistic personality, we forget that we can never be sure of when exactly we are
dealing with the «true» Dylan.
It is probably
safe to say that «Dylan the folk protest singer», much like «Dylan the newborn
Christian» fifteen years later, was essentially a mask that he agreed to wear
for a certain period of time, as long as it was helping him with his artistic
career. «Mask» does not quite nearly equal «fake», mind you: there is no reason
not to believe that, on some level, Bob did sympathize for people like Hollis
Brown or Hattie Carroll — and there is every
reason to believe the spite and contempt that the man had both for the
powers-that-be, as brutally as he is lashing against them on ʽWith God On Our
Sideʼ, and for the «mothers and fathers», as gleefully as he is condemning them
to the trashbin of history on ʽThe Times They Are A-Changin'ʼ. But sympathizing
is one thing, and pledging one's faith is another — The Times They Are A-Changin' is not an album made by a loyal
soldier of the Pete Seeger regiment, even if the uninitiated did not understand
it all that well back in early 1964.
The decision to release an «all-out» protest
song album was quite conscious, and symbolically illustrated by the sleeve
photo — quite far removed from the clumsy shyness of The Freewheelin', Bob is now trying to put on the look of somebody
who has just emerged out of a sweatshop, or, at least, spent his entire childhood collecting Woody Guthrie
photos and memorabilia. Again, though, the somber look on his face as he so
explicitly looks down upon the evil
exploiters (including everyone who sells and buys his own records) is not
particularly «fake» — this is, after all, a great opportunity to indulge in his
favorite passion: putting people down, whether it be for his own sake or for
the greater good of the planet in general.
The only problem is that, having consciously
narrowed down this scope and played out in favor of this particular image, Bob
— almost predictably so — did not manage to come up with a suitably great
bunch of songs. Many of them were, in fact, created already at the time of or
even way before The Freewheelin',
and some are downright simple rewrites: ʽBoots Of Spanish Leatherʼ, as it is
very easy to notice, is essentially the same song as ʽGirl From The North
Countryʼ. Likewise, it is hardly a coincidence that the overall number of
tunes here is smaller than on Freewheelin',
while the average length of a single
composition has increased by almost a whole minute — something quite typical
for a situation of «creative blockage».
Three songs still stand out as major/minor
classics. The title track sits here in the same place that was earlier occupied
by ʽBlowin' In The Windʼ: its face is more stately, its voice is louder, and
its message is far more blunt and unambiguous — blushy shyness being replaced
by Biblical thunder as the prophet makes the transition from the liberal-minded
salon into the open space of the town market square. It must have taken some
gall to write and record a song like that, but someone had to do it,
particularly if that someone had to live up to the «generation spokesman» tag
(which Bob openly claims to have hated, but ʽThe Times They Are A-Changin'ʼ
could only have been written with that specific tag in mind, whether he had
already been assigned it or not). The song has neither the depth nor the
subtlety of his greatest creations — but it has certainly gone «beyond your
command». The guitar may be raggedy and a little out of tune, the lyrics may
borrow one too many clichés from the Prophets, and the message may seem less
and less pleasant to baby boomers as they become grandfathers, but what can we
do about it? It's a fucking symbol now, one of those near-ideal generational
anthems.
Within the context of the album, though, I
think that it is ʽWhen The Ship Comes Inʼ that makes the greater impact — the
only song to break up the dirgey bleakness and monotonousness and to shower the
curses on the heads of Bob's enemies in a faster, more playful (and, therefore,
a little more sadistic) mode: inspired by Jenny's pirate tune in The Threepenny Opera and an accident
where Bob was refused hotel admission for not being clean enough, it is the
most gleefully danceable of Bob's protest songs, and probably the one that his
Jewish ancestors would be the most proud of, not just because it namedrops
Goliath and the Pharaoh among those who will be crushed when the ship comes in,
but also because, of all those early songs, it is the only one that gives the
listener a clear vision of that happy end we're all hoping for. And it's
catchy, too, but what wouldn't be
catchy if it were inspired by Threepenny
Opera?
The rest of the social / political songs on the
album rarely reach these highs, not just because they are lyrically much more
tied in with specific cases and particular situations, but also because they
simply happen to be too drawn out and dreary. ʽWith God On Our Sideʼ gives you
nine verses of irony when one could easily do with just three or four — the
melody is boring, the energy level is low, and the lyrics are extremely
questionable in the light of Bob's usual standards (I have always thought that
the verse about the Germans was particularly poorly thought out — do the lines
"though they murdered six millions... the Germans now, too, have God on their
side" imply that the correct alternative would have been to wipe the
Germans off the face of the Earth, once and for all? Probably not, but that is one of the easiest interpretations).
ʽThe Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carrollʼ has more
direct involvement on Bob's part, and would have probably made a great impact
had it been performed on the day of the William Zantzinger trial (August 28,
1963), but, at the risk of understating its importance for the history of
anti-racist struggle in the US, I would dare say that the song is quite boring
on the whole, and that its slow, stuttering, droning verses have nothing even
close to the fist-clenching effect that a song like ʽHurricaneʼ would produce more
than a decade later — even if, as a person, Hattie Carroll might be deserving
more of our empathy than Ruben Carter (if anything, merely for the fact that
Hattie Carroll is dead and Ruben Carter is not). The lyrical description of the
woman's murder and of the rigged trial, and the acid condemnation of those who
«philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears» is brilliant — the execution
seems way too poorly thought out (although, of course, there are quite a few
Dylanologists that would be happy to fight that idea).
In any case, the best song on The Times They Are A-Changin' happens
to be one of the few that completely lack any sociopolitical undercurrent — it
is also the shortest and, at first, least noticeable of these tunes, still
completely in the vein of the «humble mumble» of Freewheelin'. ʽOne Too Many Morningsʼ (Steve Jobs' favorite song,
no less!) has only three verses, a barely audible fingerpicking melody that
rolls out far more smoothly from under Bob's fingers than the scrapy, wobbly
strum of ʽThe Times They Are A-Changin'ʼ, and a beautiful melancholic aura — I
like to think of it as a sequel to ʽDon't Think Twiceʼ, in which our hero
contemplates the choices he has made and feels a little guilty and repentant
about it, all the while being extra careful to not let us understand this
directly. But even if not, it is still the most personal and deeply human tune
on the whole album — even more so than the closing ʽRestless Farewellʼ, where
Bob once again dons the travelin' minstrel cap and sings a well-meant, but formulaic
dinner ballad for the king and his court.
On the whole, The Times They Are A-Changin' is a misstep — the only time in Bob's
entire career, perhaps, when he went ahead and delivered an album that somebody
expected him to deliver: an artistic
mistake he would never repeat again. But considering that he was still young,
fresh, full of creative juices, energy, and invigorated with his success in
«the right circles», it is also no wonder that the record is listenable, contains
no major embarrassments (if one discounts the superfluous song lengths and a
few lamentable lyrical slip-ups), and still has a bunch of classic songs that
rank all the way up there with his best. For these reasons, I would rather
resist the temptation of giving it a thumbs down — even the worst Dylan record
of the 1960s is still an essential listen for everybody who has a basic
interest in the man. Besides, as a social stimulus — a musical protest
statement — it certainly worked back in 1964, and might as well continue working
for a long time, as long as the English language doesn't change too much.
Check "The Times They Are A-Changin'" (CD) on Amazon
Check "The Times They Are A-Changin'" (MP3) on Amazon
I'm glad you've "mellowed out" about this one, George, but I still think you don't do full justice to the power of this album. Subtle it mostly isn't, but I for one have never heard any collection of songs as politically blunt and at the same time so artistically accomplished as this one - except possibly some things by the Pogues. I am no Christopher Ricks fan but his chapter on "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll" in "Dylan's Visions of Sin" is a thing of beauty, and really brings out why the song works (for many of us, anyway).
ReplyDeleteThere's some great songs on here but I tend to agree that the record is a snoozer. To these ears it sounds like Dylan was already bored with this and wanted to move on. My faves are One Too Many Mornings and When Your Ship Comes In but outside of the horror story that is Ballad Of Hollis Brown (which I like a lot) most of the longer songs just actually kinda boring. Still worth a listen although I give it a B- (and graded favorably for historic purposes)
ReplyDeleteFor some reason every band in the 60's tried to cover Times They Are A-Changin', and all their covers sucked.
ReplyDeleteThe first of many albums where he shelved songs superior to a lot of tunes on the album. "North Country", "God", "Farewell" and "Pawn could be replaced by Seven Curses, Eternal Circle, and especially Lay down your weary tune. Maybe throw in the Explicitly Guthrie-esque but upbeat Paths of Victory.
ReplyDeleteOff topic but few people have ever been as guilty as Reuben "Hurricane" Carter. Try this site for starters: http://www.graphicwitness.com/carter/
ReplyDeleteI'll make my usual album cover comment. Nice analysis, obably one of my least favorites (right down there with Self-Portrait & the "official" Saved covers)in the collection. Not only does he look disgusted with the mass of humanity (like you said, his favorite passtime), he looks unhealthy and gaunt, but at least no cigarette is danging from his mouth. (I know it's peavish, but 60s photographers' need to show all musicians puffing away always turned me off)
ReplyDeleteWell, from what I've seen from archival footage, in the 60s not only musicians, but *everybody* was puffing away constantly.
DeleteYou've made me discover One Too Many Mornings. It's a gorgeous song. Thanks for the pleasure of reading great reviews and discovering great music.
ReplyDelete