Funny, I coulda sworn you were Bobby Zimmerman

In a case of mistaken identity, Bob Dylan finally owns up to who he is.

Mumblers

Newport 1963

Four years after its founding.

Roger, wilco, will vote

(Chicago Sun Times photo - Tweedy and Obama)

Obama's on the Wilco bandwagon, and vice versa.

You can get a free download of Wilco and Fleet Foxes doing Dylan's I Shall Be Released for pledging to vote, here.

And Wilco rocked for Obama.

Down to the crossroads

Many years ago while travelling South of Memphis, I stood at the famous crossroads of the Robert Johnson legend in which he sold his soul to the devil to become a genius blues player. That crossroads, of highways 61 and 49, in Clarksdale, is only one of two possible sites for that satanic meeting. The other is the crossroads of routes 1 and 8 in Rosedale Mississippi. Of course, it's all just legend, as is much of what's known of the short life of Robert Johnson. He died at 26 or 27 after travelling the country, making a reputation for himself as an incredible musician, and recording a very tiny but influential set of songs.

The legend continues, and is expanded in a compelling story of a newly-found photograph (on EBAY of all places), written by Frank Digiacomo and appearing in this month's Vanity Fair.

Come Senators, Congressmen please heed the call

For the first time in decades, Bob Dylan has uttered a political statement publically in his endorsement of Barack Obama during an interview with The Times of London.

Eve of destruction

Late to blogging today. Sick in bed with another variation on the upper respiratory nonsense. Another x-ray, another visit to the doctor tomorrow. I suppose I should be glad I'm insured.

Maybe that's why I'm in such a dreary mood.

I've had the Barry McGuire version of PF Sloan's great (and I mean it) folk-protest anthem running through my head as I think about the flat-earthers who deny the obvious facts about climate change and our hand in it.

This is a great version from the sixties, and it's not lip-synched. McGuire had graduated from the New Christy Minstrels (you can hear his voice cutting through that folk-choirs, otherwise-sanitized versions of folk classics).



It was the first protest song to break into the top ten. And it made it to number one in certain parts of the US and across the globe. Billboard lists it at no higher than two.

PF Sloan, who wrote a number of sixties pop hits, claims the song ruined his career, for political reasons. He re-recorded it for an album he put out last year, and toured for the first time in decades to promote the album.



McGuire never had another hit, but he still is touring the song in 60's folk revival shows (of the type "scene on PBS." Apocryphal stories say that Dylan hated the song, claimed it was a ripoff (he should talk), but that he was really most angry because Like a Rolling Stone, (a far more brilliant song in many ways), was struggling to make it to the top of the charts when Eve of Destruction did. Dylan never reached the number one spot.

About a dozen years ago, I played my beat up 45 rpm single version of it to start my folk show, and the hip hop DJ who did the all-night shift asked to borrow it for a week. The next week he came back with a mash-up version of it that was brilliant. I wish I had a copy

The ghost of lyrics past

As Susan Forbes Hansen said: "Dylan's Shillin.'" Who knows what Bob Dylan is thinking. It can't be that he needs the money. It's got to be an honest-to-god Cadillac endorsement. And what's worse, being a mouthpiece for a monster SUV, or thumbing his nose at the environment, the dwindling supply of fossil fuel, or his ever-faithful, who will surely rise to his defense. He's really kind of creepy, isn't he?

Reminds me of a younger Dylan, from Talkin World War III Blues:

Well, I seen a Cadillac window uptown
And there was nobody aroun'
I got into the driver's seat
And I drove down to 42nd Street
In my Cadillac
Good car to drive after a war.

Talkin' World War III blues

When Dylan sang this back in the sixties, he came to this conclusion:



Some time ago a crazy dream came to me,
I dreamt I was walkin' into World War Three,
I went to the doctor the very next day
To see what kinda words he could say.
He said it was a bad dream.
I wouldn't worry 'bout it none, though,
They were my own dreams and they're only in my head.

I said, "Hold it, Doc, a World War passed through my brain."
He said, "Nurse, get your pad, this boy's insane,"
He grabbed my arm, I said "Ouch!"
As I landed on the psychiatric couch,
He said, "Tell me about it."

Well, over at the LA Times, Rosa Brooks has come to the same conclusion.

Our Connecticut cowboy of a president has begun to woof again about kicking some ass, and this time Iran is in his bombsites. The New York Times called out the king of all chickenhawk bullies today, but it seems unlikely that anyone has the wherewithal to put a blunt end to the adolescent game of chicken.

Concerts of the Week

Tao Rodriguez-Seeger
Global Woody
Friday September 28, 8:00 pm
Green Streets Art Center, Middletown

Not only will Mammals member, and Seeger family scion Tao Rodriguez-Seeger perform, but Wesleyan Ph.d musicology candidate, and Guthrie Archive director Jorge Arévalo Mateus, will speak, show rare Woody Guthrie film footage, and play recently-discovered Guthrie recordings. An interesting and important night of music about America's most significant troubadour.


Richard Shindell
Music for A Change
Saturday, September 29, 7:30 pm
Wilde Auditorium, University of Hartford

Imagine Michael Stipe singing story songs which you could actually understand, and you'd have some idea of what Richard Shindell sounds like. He's an acclaimed songwriter, and while he's an incredible lyricist and melody maker, his most recent album is composed of cover songs, including a strident-free version of Springsteen's Born In the USA.

Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello
Sunday, September 30
Harbor Yard, Bridgeport CT

I'm still wondering why I don't have tickets to this myself. Initially, I thought it was a little more musician self-indulgence than I could stand in an evening. But both are musical heroes, and seeing them in the same venue, on the same evening would be somewhat of a revelation. And lately, I've become re-obsessed with Costello's Motown/Stax influenced Get Happy (from whence comes one of my Costello favorites King Horse).
Harbor Yard, Bridgeport CT

I'm on the pavement thinkin' 'bout the government

And if you don't get the allusion, check this out: