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Another side of Bob and more!
People starving and thirsting, grain elevators are bursting
Oh, you know it costs more to store the food than it do to give it.
They say lose your inhibitions, follow your own ambitions,
They talk about a life of brotherly love, show me someone who
knows how to live it.
The Whole Wide World Is Watching ...01/26/2005 09:53:08 pm
With the re-release of 1985's charity single "We Are The
World," along with the Live Aid DVD, now
might be an appropriate occasion to re-examine some
of Bob Dylan's actions and remarks in connection with
those things.
Those too young to remember need to
know that it all started with a famine in Ethiopia.
Millions faced starvation. Bob Geldof (formerly of
the Boomtown Rats) cowrote a song with Midge Ure (Ultravox) called
"Do They Know It's Christmas?," and
gathered a group of popstars together under the name
"Band-Aid" to record it - with the proceeds
to go to famine relief. It became a Number 1
Christmas hit in the U.K., and a phenomenon in
Europe. It inspired a similar effort in the U.S.,
under the leadership of Michael Jackson (formerly of
the Jackson Five) and Lionel Richie (The Commodores), who wrote a song called "We Are The
World," and gathered a group of American stars
to record it. The whole spirit of popular music stars
performing for this charitable cause culminated in a
huge, day long, live concert - half in England and
half in the U.S. - televised around the world.
Viewers were encouraged to call in and pledge money
for Ethiopian famine relief. Over $140 million is
said to have been raised.
Although Bob Dylan gave his
services to both the single and the concert, he went
out of his way on several occasions to express
reservations about certain aspects of the
proceedings.
For example, in September of 1985,
ABC TV aired an interview with Dylan on their 20/20
program (the only significant TV interview Dylan has
done other than 2004's segment on 60 Minutes). Dylan
expressed himself thusly with regard to "We Are
The World" :
Dylan: People buying
the song and the money going to starving
people in Africa is, y'know, a worthwhile idea,
but I
wasn't so convinced about the message of the
song, to tell
you the truth. I don't think people can
save themselves,
y'know?
ABC's Bob Brown: Save themselves, in any
sorta ...?
Dylan: I just don't agree with that type
of thing.
The fragment of lyric that Dylan
had been given to sing went "There's a choice
we're making / We're saving our own lives / It's true
we make a brighter day / Just you and me."
Months after singing these words,
it still rankled him, obviously. Without getting into
detail here on the rather different message regarding
the source of salvation that you might draw from
Dylan's own body of work, it's interesting that
whatever standard he sets for himself left him
anguishing long after the fact at having to sing that
Jackson/Richie line. And in what, for him, was the
unique experience of being interviewed for
television, he went out of his way to express his
disagreement with it.
More dramatic still, however, was
Dylan's own performance at the great Live Aid concert
itself on Saturday, July 13th, 1985. It's not a
performance that you hear a lot about - and none of
it would be positive, I would wager. On the current
Live Aid DVD of the event, only one of the three
songs that Dylan sang is present: the final one, Blowin' In The Wind (although there are three songs from Duran
Duran, and two each from Reo Speedwagon and Judas
Priest).
You would almost need to transport
yourself back to the day itself to recall that Bob
Dylan was, in fact, top of the bill at this event.
The only thing to come after him was the grand finale
of all and sundry singing (that song again), "We
Are The World." A list of performers that
included (to mention a few) Neil Young, U2, Mick
Jagger, Paul McCartney, Madonna, Queen, Elton John,
and Spandau Ballet (OK that's a joke, but they were
big in 1985), was effectively being headlined by Bob
Dylan. And, before his actual performance, I don't
think anyone seriously questioned why he should head
that bill. He was, after all, the voice and the
conscience of a generation, was he not? So many of
the other performers had been inspired by him. He
represented the idealism of the sixties, incarnate,
didn't he? He had written so many songs exploring
themes of social justice, and the plight of the
disadvantaged and oppressed. This concert was like
all of those ideals being put into action. It was
really a no-brainer to pick Bob Dylan as the
climactic act.
And it's easy to imagine how the
producers of the event thought that it would go. The
excitement and mood of anticipation growing greater
and greater thoughout the day, as star after
glittering star got on stage and sang two or three of
their greatest and most loved hits. Culminating with
Jack Nicholson coming out on the stage in
Philadelphia, and introducing the great V of a G
himself: the virtually mythological Bob Dylan.
With 1.5 billion people
watching, all Dylan needed to do was sing three of
his famous songs and he could have that pumped-up
worldwide audience in the palm of his hand. They were
dying to hear those poetic words of inspiration from
the man without whom arguably none of this would be
happening. One of the songs would have to be Blowin'
In The Wind, a song known not only to rock fans
but to children all over the world. Other than that,
well, there was just so much to choose from. He could
come out and sing the poignant Knocking On
Heaven's Door, follow that up with the happier Hey
Mr. Tambourine Man, then finish with Blowin'
In The Wind, and (so to speak) Bob's your uncle.
Everyone would be on a cloud of good feeling as
Michael and Lionel and co. stepped forth amidst a
chorus of angelic children to sing "We Are The
World." Substitute I Shall Be Released
or Forever Young or The Times They Are
A'Changin' for one of those other two, and you
get the same result. Joy all around.
Dylan, or fate, or both, had other
plans, however. "Plans" is the operative
word: no matter how ramshackle Dylan's performance
may have seemed (backed up by Keith Richards and Ron
Wood, also wielding acoustic guitars), the truth is
that it was amply rehearsed. Indeed a recording
circulates amongst collectors of their actual
rehearsals. They did not take place only on the day
of the event, either, but also before it. Dylan did
not absent mindedly reach into his back catalog a few
minutes before going on stage for some songs to sing
- he chose his songs quite deliberately, and, I
believe, with some precision and purpose. (As to the
rough performance, Dylan later complained that the
grand finale organizers had taken away the stage
monitors, so he and his guitarists couldn't even hear
themselves. This would explain Dylan's out of
character question to the crowd in between songs:
"Does it sound alright out there?")
So, with one and a half thousand
million people tuned in, Jack Nicholson came onstage
to introduce Dylan. He said, to rising cheers from
the Philadelphia audience: "Some artists' work
speaks for itself; some artist's work speaks for his
generation. It's my deep personal pleasure to present
to you one of America's great voices of freedom. It
can only be one man! The transcendent Bob
Dylan!"
Dylan then introduced Richards and
Wood, and, without further formalities, they launched
into a blues tune, in a minor key. "Hollis Brown, he
lived on the outside of town ... With his wife and
five children and his cabin breakin' down." As Dylan was well aware, this was
not a song that the general viewing public around the
world would be at all familiar with. There is also
nothing pretty about this song, even if performed
under better circumstances. The dark story of a
destitute farmer who uses his last pennies to buy 7
shotgun shells - one each to shoot his wife, his 5
kids, and finally himself - is matched by a sad and
monotonous melody. On a day dedicated to raising
money for the starving, there is no question of the
song's relevance, but it certainly lacked the uplift
of, say, Paul McCartney earlier in the day singing
"Let It Be." Hollis Brown ends with this bland statement,
not of hope or of defiance, but of sober recognition
and frightening truth: "There's seven
people dead on a South Dakota farm ... Somewhere in
the distance there's seven new people born."
The song ended, and (hats off to
them) the Philadelphia crowd mustered some cheers.
After all, it's Bob Dylan on stage. (Punch drunk as
they were after a day of titanic stars and huge
performances, they probably would have cheered if Bob
had come out in drag and sung "Mary Had A Little
Lamb.") Dylan told the crowd that he thought the
song was a fitting one for the occasion, and then ...
he dropped his bombshell.
"I'd just like to say
I hope that some of the money that's raised for the
people in Africa - maybe they could just take a
little bit of it - maybe one or two million, maybe -
and use it, say, to pay the mortgages on some of the
farms that the farmers here owe to the banks."
(mp3 audio clip here, for a little while, may
be unreliable.)
Now, inasmuch as he was regarded by
many as a washed up loon after this performance, it's
important to note that, of-course, Dylan knew exactly
what he was doing. As mentioned, he'd rehearsed well
for this performance. He was 44 years old, and had
stood on countless stages and participated in many
events all around the world. He knew what was going
on on this day of days, and he knew all too well what
was expected of him. He understood that he was
appearing at the penultimate moment of this mega-gig,
and that all eyes were right on him. Indeed the next
song he performed contained the lines, "And the ship's wise
men / Will remind you once again / That the whole
wide world is watchin'."
In a moment when the eyes of the
world were upon him in the most literal sense
imaginable, Dylan chose to defy the spirit of this
enormous occasion - a huge steamroller of global
feel-good charity that had rolled over the popular
music world - and he chose to address only his
American audience. His message? Well, the words are
there, and they're not complicated. Help the farmers.
You can throw different constructs on this message if
you like, I suppose. I believe, considering the
context of this massive live global event, one would
have to concede that Dylan was going out of his way
to say to America: look within. Look to your own. Do
not forget those who are part of the backbone of this
nation. Value what you have right here lest you lose
it.
Dylan had been around the block
often enough to know that he would be pilloried for
stepping out of line and making such a statement at
such a moment. Bob Geldof (general organizer, saint
and guru of the occasion) was furious. Even much
later when he had calmed down enough to write his
autobiography, he still had this to say of Dylan, "He displayed a
complete lack of understanding of the issues raised
by Live Aid ... it was a crass, stupid, and
nationalistic thing to say." And we can be sure
that the great majority of people across the world
felt exactly the same way. On a day meant to raise
money for the poor in Africa, here is this rich
American rock star suggesting that money be diverted
to American farmers - who, whatever their problems
with bank loans and such, were surely not starving.
Dylan simply pushed aside the fact that he would
enrage the worldwide audience. He had just sung his
old song about a poor South Dakota farmer, and (for
once) he had a direct message he wanted to deliver to
Americans. No Western Union boys needed.
[ An aside: Those who follow
Dylan's live shows obsessively and note his
remarks from the stage might hear an echo in
something he said five weeks after the September
11th, 2001 attack on America. He was performing
at LA's Staples Center, where Madonna had
recently been. Everyone's mind being still raw
from the events of 9/11, Madonna had exhorted the
crowd to "Think global." I don't think
she meant it in terms of "global
conquest." More likely she was implying that
we should see everyone's point of view on these
things, and not be caught up in flag waving and
rooting for the home team. Dylan had obviously
read it in the paper, and, though he has been
anything but talkative at his gigs in recent
years, he made an exception this time: "I
know Madonna was here a couple weeks ago telling
everybody to 'think global.' I know a whole bunch
of you are doing that. I wanna try to tell you, rethink
it." (10/19/2001) ]
In contemplating what Dylan did on
that Live Aid stage, it's also worth noting the
opportunity that he consciously threw away. A
seasoned performer like himself was well aware that
it's not every day you get to play to 1.5 billion
people. That's a helluva lot of record buyers. It's
no secret that their Live Aid performance lifted rock
supergroup "Queen" to new heights of
popularity in markets all over the world.
"U2" likewise were greatly helped by their
impressive performance that day. Dylan was being seen
by millions upon millions of people who had never
seriously considered buying one of his albums. A
respectable performance of a few of his favorites
could have been a huge boon to him, and at a time
when his career was not exactly shooting skyward.
Instead he performed two songs that virtually no one
knew. He followed up the morose Hollis Brown
with the jauntier but still very obscure When The Ship Comes
In, a song about that
ultimate moment of reckoning when all will be put
right; the guilty punished and the righteous
rewarded. (Though rough edged, it remains this
writer's all time favorite performance of that song.)
It's an interesting and little known fact that he had
in mind to follow that up with his new (and
even more obscure) song Dark Eyes. He had mentioned during rehearals
with the Stones' guitarists that he would like to do Dark
Eyes if there was time. Hence there was that
moment after he sang When The Ship Comes In,
when he stepped back and said "How much time we
got?" Whatever response he received convinced
him that he only had time to do Blowin' In The Wind, and so that's what he did (and not the
prettiest version by any means, of this great song
that offers only questions where so many hear only
answers). But it's amazing to think that if he'd had
the time, he would have performed a total of three
songs that almost nobody knew, on a day devoted
to greatest hits by the greatest stars. He was doing
anything but going with the flow. And his statement
about giving some of the money to the American
farmers would inevitably annoy viewers across the
world. In a moment when he could have aided his
career and his own bank account, his defiance of the
"group hug" feel-good spirit of the
occasion was an act of some substantial bravery.
Geldof described it as "nationalistic." I
would venture to say that it was an act of true
patriotism - an unrecognized patriotism that is
ingrained in this distinctly American troubadour. He
himself hates labels, of-course, especially all the
"isms," whether thrown around as
compliments or insults. But one thing was clear by
what he did and said on that day: he loved America -
and he was worried enough about a problem deep within
the heartland of the country to shrug off a perfect
opportunity to bask in international adulation.
Instead he put himself on the line and willingly made
himself the target of barbs and insults from all
around the world.
His statement about the American
farmer was heard, of-course, in America, and led to
the Farm Aid fundraising concerts, with Willie Nelson
and others. While I have no idea if this charity has
stayed true to its purpose, or become yet another
self-perpetuating provider of "non-profit"
jobs for busy bodies, it hopefully helped some real
people along the way.
* * *
With hindsight, it was probably
Dylan's Live Aid performance that cemented the whole
"Dylan is a burnt-out crank" theory as the
conventional wisdom in many circles. It's true that
he had already alienated most of the "rock"
establishment with his gospel music - but, after all,
that was commonly believed to have ended in 1981.
First with 1983's Infidels, and then with 1985's Empire
Burlesque,
it seemed that he might well be on his way
to rehabilitation if he would just keep way from the
"J" word.
With his comments and actions in
this period, Dylan demonstrated (yet again) that he
does not seek acceptance based on anyone else's
expectations of what he should do, who he should be,
or what he should represent. He persists in being
true to himself, and to certain core principles that
can be seen as fundamental threads through his entire
body of work.
One of those, I'd suggest, is a
belief that America is a special nation, and that the
preservation of the particular genius of this still
very young country is a worthy goal.
And the words that are used
For to get the ship confused
Will not be understood as they're spoken.
For the chains of the sea
Will have busted in the night
And will be buried at the bottom of the ocean.
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2005 by RightWingBob.com
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