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Now You Know

 I have been reading with much interest all the comments, pro and con about the new Dylan movie, A Complete Unknown.  Many conflicting ideas and a multitude of takes, but that's to be expected.  What pleases me most is that there is renewed interest, especially among younger generations in the life and work of Bob Dylan. To discover this most prolific artist is always an adventure and a mind expanding experience.  Among the more bizarre reactions was one I read yesterday in which a young man wrote that after seeing the film Dylan seemed more concerned with getting laid than in writing and performing protest music.  I think there is a bit of projection going on there. In any event, a few folks, including myself, sent him lists of Dylan songs that are definitely social comment.  If you include songs like "Who Killed Davy Moore," there are many more than even Dylan contemporaries are aware of.  In two minutes, even the least aware Dylan fans can rattle off social comment lyrics written and performed during the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War resistance years.  Enough said.  



In thinking back about those days, it occurred to me that Dylan's words and music contrasted so sharply with anything else at the time that any thinking person was hard pressed not to be blown away.  A quick look back shows us that in 1963, our transistor radios were blaring  It's My Party, My Boyfriend's Back, I Will Follow Him, Sugar Shack, and Rhythm of the Rain.  Of course, that same year Peter, Paul, and Mary's cover of Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind was on the list but well down the top 40.  Also present were some great MoTown recordings like Smokey Robinson's You Really Got a Hold On Me. 

My point here is not that the existing music was inferior to Dylan's music,  but rather completely different. When you grew up on some rather simplistic high school drama music or often sappy love songs, Dylan lyrics were mind blowing.  The world was calling this new generation and Dylan picked up the phone.  

Compare these lyrics from Oxford Town,

He went down to Oxford townGuns and clubs followed him downAll because his face was brownBetter get away from Oxford town
Oxford town around the bendCome to the door, he couldn't get inAll because of the colour of his skinWhat do you think about that, my friend?
Me, my gal, and my gal's sonWe got met with a tear gas bombDon't even know why we comeWe're goin' back where we came from

Or The Gates of Eden

The savage soldier sticks his head in sandAnd then complainsUnto the shoeless hunter who's gone deafBut still remainsUpon the beach where hound dogs bayAt ships with tattooed sailsHeading for the Gates of Eden

And especially Hey Mr. Tambourine Man

Though you might hear laughing, spinning, swinging madly across the sunIt's not aimed at anyoneIt's just escaping on the runAnd but for the sky there are no fences facingAnd if you hear vague traces of skipping reels of rhymeTo your tambourine in timeIt's just a ragged clown behindI wouldn't pay it any mindIt's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for meI'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going toHey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for meIn the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you
The Times changed, dramatically.

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