Production
If the lyrics were inspired by “Scarborough Fair,” the inspiration for the music is much less noticeable. Some have tried to compare both melodies to detect a similarity, but except for the “color” of certain harmonies, the signature rhythm (4/4 for Dylan, 3/4 for Carthy), neither harmony nor melody are alike. In “Girl from the North Country,” Dylan deploys an inspired and subtle melodic talent. As in “Blowin’ in the Wind,” his voice and his harmonica part (B) contrast with the anger of the previous album, and this time we can note the presence of a slight reverb. The feeling remains intimate, and the interpretation is brilliant. This is the first time that Dylan uses finger-picking on his Gibson. He has thoroughly mastered the technique, a surprise because it shows considerable progress since his first recordings. Some doubted whether it is Dylan playing, but he performed it with ease on a television show on March 10, 1964, for Canadian television (Quest, produced by Daryl Duke). One of his exceptional qualities, rarely emphasized, is his absolute sense of rhythm. His metronomic interpretation is remarkable. He recorded this melody during the last recording session for the album on April 23. Six takes were needed, including two false starts. The second take was chosen as master in the end.
Dylan rerecorded “Girl from the North Country” as a duet with Johnny Cash for the album Nashville Skyline in 1969, in a totally different atmosphere, much closer to country music. Keith Richards asserted in 2011 that the 1963 version was better than the later one.
FOR DYLANOLOGISTS
It seems that Dylan struggled to find the right tone for “Girl from the North Country.” In his version for the album, the Witmark Demos, Nashville Skyline, his performance on Canadian TV, or other live performances, the tones are all different! Finally, do not miss the extraordinary version of the rehearsal for the Far East Tour, February 1, 1978, in Rundown Studios in Santa Monica, California.
COVERS
“Girl from the North Country” gave rise to about fifty excellent versions. Apart from Bob Dylan’s, let us remember Joe Cocker and Leon Russell (the live album Mad Dogs and Englishmen, 1970), Rod Stewart (Smiler, 1974), Pete Townshend (“North Country Girl” on the album All the Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes, 1982), Robert Plant (Robert Plant & the Strange Sensation, 2006), Rosanne Cash (The List, 2009), Eddie Vedder (Water on the Road, 2011), Sting (Chimes of Freedom: The Songs of Bob Dylan Honoring 50 Years of Amnesty International, 2012), and the Counting Crows (Echoes of the Outlaw Roadshow, 2013).
Masters Of War
Bob Dylan / 4:31
Musician
Bob Dylan: vocals, guitar
Recording Studio
Columbia Recording Studios / Studio A, New York: April 23, 1963
Technical Team
Producer: John Hammond
Sound Engineers: George Knuerr and Pete Dauria
Genesis and Lyrics
Bob Dylan wrote “Masters of War” during the winter of 1962–63, right after the Cuban missile crisis of October 1962. He sang “Masters of War” in public at Gerde’s Folk City for the first time on January 21, 1963, and published the lyrics soon after in February in Broadside (number 20) along with drawings by Suze Rotolo, two months before the official recording session with Columbia.
Ironically, when the readers of Broadside read the lyrics and when the public at large discovered it, the repercussions were considerable. Very rarely—perhaps never—had Americans ever heard such a bitter and determined condemnation of war.
For many people, this was a misunderstanding. “Masters of War” is not an ode to pacifism—even if students quickly turned it into a hymn against American involvement in Vietnam, but rather an aggressive attack on the warmongers, on those who have vested interests in seeing the world explode into conflict and, as the song says so eloquently, “hide behind desks.” The songwriter was alluding to the American military-industrial complex, which was first denounced by Dwight D. Eisenhower himself in his farewell address from the Oval Office on January 17, 1961. In an interview granted to USA Today on September 10, 2001, Dylan was explicit: “[‘Masters of War’] is not an antiwar song. It’s speaking against what Eisenhower was calling a military-industrial complex as he was making his exit from the presidency. That spirit was in the air, and I picked it up.”15
The last verse has an almost virulent dimension. “I’ve never really written anything like that before,” he confided to Nat Hentoff in the liner notes of the album. “I don’t sing songs which hope people will die, but I couldn’t help it in this one. The song is a sort of striking out… a feeling of what can you do?”19 In a nutshell, “Masters of War” was a kind of catharsis for Dylan. Note that singer Judy Collins, although she was on the cutting edge of the antiwar struggles of the sixties, preferred not to sing the last stanza: “And I hope that you die, and your death will come soon / I’ll follow your casket in the pale afternoon / And I will watch as you lay in your deathbed / And I’ll stay over your tomb till I’m sure that you are dead.” On February 20, 1991, during the first Gulf War, Dylan chose to perform “Masters of War” at the Grammy Awards, where he received an honorary award. A disturbing detail: he sang in such a way that the words were almost inaudible and totally unrecognizable. He later explained that a bad fever and a last-minute change in the program had affected his delivery.
Production
The melody is taken directly from the English ballad “Nottamun Town” (which became a traditional song in the Appalachians). Bob Davenport may have taught it to Dylan during the latter’s stay in London in December 1962. Jean Ritchie, nicknamed the “Mother of Folk,” had made an arrangement, and she later accused Dylan of having plagiarized it. Dylan, however, showed that his version was different from hers and that his contribution to the text created something original.
Daniel Lanois, who produced the album Oh Mercy in 1989, regularly asked Dylan for songs similar to “Masters of War,” “Girl from the North Country,” and “With God on Our Side.” Dylan wrote, “He began nagging at me, just about every other day, that we could sure use some songs like those. I nodded. I knew we could, but I felt like growling. I didn’t have anything like those songs.”1 Lanois, who was a savvy producer, knew too well that songs with such force were a dream “clothed” or “naked”; they “ring.” Thus, with “Masters of War,” based on two chords without harmonica and with a throbbing rhythm foreshadowing “Working Class Hero” by John Lennon (1970), Dylan, at twenty-one, masterfully announced his condemnation of warmongers. There is little reverb in the voice, and the singing is more narrative than vocal. The whole song has an austerity that efficiently underscores its awful purpose. Worked on during the final recording session on April 23, “Masters of War” is the last song he recorded during the eight sessions. Six takes were needed, half of which are false starts. The third take was chosen for the album.
Over time, Dylan released the song with different arrangements, including electric versions such as on the Real Live album of 1984.
FOR DYLANOLOGISTS
Although “Masters of War” is an indictment against the military-industrial complex, Bob did not hesitate to perform it in 1990 at the United States Military Academy. But facing a military audience, he swallowed his last verse!
COVERS
As early as 1963, Judy Collins recorded “Masters of War.” She was joined in the 1960s by José Feliciano (1965), Barry McGuire (1967), and Cher (1968). There were also other great interpretations, including Leon Russell (1970), Eddie Vedder (during the 30th Anniversary Concert Celebration, 1992), and Ed Sheeran (2013).
Down The Highway
Bob Dylan / 3:23
Musician
Bob Dylan: vocals, guitar
Recording Studio
Columbia Recording Studios / Studio A, New York: July 9, 1962
Technical Team
Producer: John Hammond
Sound Engineers: George Knuerr and Pete Dauria
Genesis and Lyrics
“I had another recording session you
know—I sang six more songs—you’re in two of them: Bob Dylan’s Blues and Down the Highway.”14 This excerpt from a letter to Suze Rotolo in July 1962, by a Bob Dylan deeply in love, highlights the passion that he dedicated to his girlfriend, who went to study in Perugia, Italy, on June 8, 1962. He did not see her for eight long months, and her absence deeply troubled him. His closest friends, including Dave Van Ronk and his wife Terri, remember seeing him extremely depressed and crying, “Suze!” She returned to New York in January 1963. She was greeted with accusations by the couple’s friends, who told her “[she] was not there for Dylan when he needed [her] most.”14
Therefore, it is with “Down the Highway,” a blues song probably inspired by Robert Johnson and Big Joe Williams, that Bob Dylan expressed his feelings of abandonment and loneliness, using the blues as the perfect vehicle to exorcise heartbreak. Dylan knew it was: “What made the real blues singers so great is that they were able to state all the problems they had; but at the same time, they were standing outside of them and could look at them. And in that way, they had them beat.”19
Production
The atmosphere is Delta blues, capo on the fifth fret, “tuning” chords adapted for E, and a riff punctuating every other verse. Dylan played his Gibson J-50 on “Down the Highway” in the tradition of the blues. All the clichés are here: the road, separation, passion, play, danger, luck… these highly mythical themes. Dylan shows himself to be a master of the blues with guitar-playing “roots”; a better tuning was not even necessary at 2:34. Though less precise than “Girl from the North Country” and “Blowin’ in the Wind,” his progress is no less remarkable. He masters perfectly his vocal performance without straining his vocal cords as he did on the previous album, and he even uses some intonations borrowed from Big Joe Williams. A plosive on the word poor at 2:51 reminds us of John Hammond’s complaints about his lack of technique at the microphone. The song is one of six he recorded in one take during the third recording session of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.
FOR DYLANOLOGISTS
Dylan mentioned in a letter to Suze Rotolo that he had recorded six more songs during the recording session on July 9. But in reality it was seven songs: “Baby, I’m in the Mood for You,” “Bob Dylan’s Blues,” “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Quit Your Low Down Ways,” “Honey Just Allow Me One More Chance,” “Down the Highway,” and “Worried Blues.”
Bob Dylan’s Blues
Bob Dylan / 2:20
Musician
Bob Dylan: vocals, guitar, harmonica
Recording Studio
Columbia Recording Studios / Studio A, New York: July 9, 1962
Technical Team
Producer: John Hammond
Sound Engineers: George Knuerr and Pete Dauria
Genesis and Lyrics
Although not indicated in the title, “Bob Dylan’s Blues” is a mix of country music and blues. The title, which was also the working title of the album, refers to his feelings of depression during the prolonged absence of Suze Rotolo. In a letter to her in July 1962 (see “Down the Highway,” page 59), he wrote the entire second stanza of the song (“All you five and ten cent women / With nothin’ in your heads / I got a real gal I’m lovin’ / And Lord I’ll love her till I’m dead / Go away from my door and window too / Right now”), emphasizing the fact that these words had been written for her.
The song “Bob Dylan’s Blues” is an improvisation made at the studio. In the jacket notes, Dylan attempts an explanation of his very “Dylanesque” creative process: “I start with an idea, and then I feel what follows. Best way I can describe this one is that it’s like walking by a side street. You gaze in and you walk on.”21
Note that the words in the first verse refer to two heroes from Dylan’s childhood, the Lone Ranger and his inseparable friend, Tonto. This was the first time two characters from American pop culture turned up Dylan’s work. So does the wind in the fourth verse: “Well, the wind keeps a-blowin’ me.” Is this a nod to “Blowin’ in the Wind,” which he recorded just after the first take of “Bob Dylan’s Blues”?
Production
Three attempts were needed to record the song. The first take was used for the master. During the recording session on July 9, 1962, Dylan worked on no less than three songs dedicated to Suze Rotolo: “Baby, I’m in the Mood for You” (which does not appear on the album but on Biograph in 1985), “Bob Dylan’s Blues,” and “Down the Highway.” The first two songs started the session and were representative of his sentimental feelings. He provides once again an excellent guitar part. Even if improvised, his guitar playing shows his experience. With the harmonica (in D) and voice in “talking blues,” Dylan takes us along the paths of his imagination.
FOR DYLANOLOGISTS
“Bob Dylan’s Blues” is also the title of a melody written in 1965 by Syd Barrett, future leader of the first lineup of Pink Floyd. This song, which gently mocks the Dylan-mania of the time, was recorded between 1968 and 1970, and then forgotten for more than thirty years. David Gilmour rediscovered the title in his personal collection, and the song appears on the compilation album The Best of Syd Barrett: Wouldn’t You Miss Me?, released in 2001.
A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall
Bob Dylan / 6:51
Musician
Bob Dylan: vocals, guitar
Recording Studio
Columbia Recording Studios / Studio A, New York: December 6, 1962
Technical Team
Producer: John Hammond
Sound Engineers: Stanley Tonkel and Pete Dauria
Genesis and Lyrics
Bob Dylan wrote one of his greatest compositions, “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” during the summer of 1962. “In those days I used to write a lot of songs in cafés. Or at somebody’s house with the typewriter. ‘A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall’… I wrote that in the basement of the Village Gate. All of it, at Chip Monck’s, he used to have a place down there in the boiler room, an apartment that he slept in.”19 Dylan was going through an unusually prolific period. “Yeah, it does come easy,” he admitted.19 But he wrote this song in a particular political climate.
The Cold War was in full swing. The Berlin Wall was already one year old. In early September 1962, the Soviet Union decided to defy the United States and boost its military and technical aid to Cuba. On October 14, America was shocked to discover that the Russians had installed missiles in Cuba with nuclear warheads, all aimed at US strategic sites. A confrontation between US president John F. Kennedy and Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev began, resulting in the most terrifying episode of the Cold War, the famous Cuban Missile Crisis. On October 22, President Kennedy delivered a nationwide televised address. The world was on the verge of a nuclear disaster. On October 28, a diplomatic solution was finally found.
“A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” is always linked with the Cuban Missile Crisis. In fact, Dylan formally premiered his new song during a hootenanny organized by Pete Seeger at Carnegie Hall on September 22, 1962, a month before the presidential speech to the nation. Seeger recalls, “I had to announce to all the singers, ‘Folks, you’re gonna be limited to three songs. No more. ’Cause we each have ten minutes apiece.’ And Bob raised his hand and said, ‘What am I supposed to do? One of my songs is ten minutes long.’”11 The impact on the audience was immediate. Dave Van Ronk, who knew the song before the premiere, commented, “I heard him sing… and I could not even talk about it; I just had to leave the club and walk around for a while. It was unlike anything that had come before it, and it was clearly the beginning of a revolution.”20
“A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” was based on the captivating alchemy between a melody borrowed from folk tradition—more specifically, the Scottish-English ballad “Lord Randall” that goes back to the seventeenth century—and poetry that could be considered “horrific,” with its uninterrupted flow of dark, apocalyptic images that broke and crushed the certainties on which modern civilization was built. What was this “hard rain that was falling?” In an inte
rview granted to historian Studs Terkel in 1963, the songwriter was very specific: “It is not atomic rain, but just a hard rain. It isn’t the fallout rain. I mean some sort of end that’s just gonna happen… In the last verse when I say, ‘Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,’ that means all the lies that people get told on their radios and in their newspapers.”21
As a matter of fact, it is a lot more than that: “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” is a sort of swan song before the end of a world. Each line is the beginning of a separate song. “But when I wrote it,” confided Dylan, “I thought I wouldn’t have enough time alive to write all those songs, so I put all I could into this one.”5
As in the British “Lord Randall” ballad, the song is made up of a virtual dialogue between a mother and her son: “… my blue-eyed son? / my darling young one?” The couplets of “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” remind one of French symbolist poets like Arthur Rimbaud that Suze Rotolo introduced him to. As in Les Illuminations, and particularly “Barbare,” his last poem, Dylan threw the listener into the heart of a maelstrom of images and sounds and described a civilization agonizing in a devastated landscape.
The fascination and strength of the song left no one indifferent. Allen Ginsberg remembered being moved the first time he heard it. He confided to Martin Scorsese, “I heard ‘A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall’… and I wept because it seemed to me that the torch had been passed to another generation.”4 The song was adopted as the unofficial anthem at the 2009 United Nations Climate Change Conference in Copenhagen.
Bob Dylan All the Songs Page 7
