Tangled Up in Blue Hard Times Come Again No More
BY MIKE JOHNSON
Poe had the insight in the 1840s, but it would be seventy years before Einstein formalized the maths, and identified spacetime as a unity for the first time. For a long time writers accept played with the variables of distance and duration, duration relating to time and narrative, while distance relates to infinite and geography. Descriptions of place volition slow the pace of narrative; a faster narrative will tend to displace other, not-narrative elements. Space and time come up together in consciousness, in bespeak of view.
(Readers interested in the wider bug raised hither might like to note my comments on Lyn Hejinian's My Life in my writing blog, and the department entitled 'The Collapse of Opposites' in my book Angel Of Compassion.
'Altitude and duration are ane.' Edgar Allen Poe.
That narrative is constructed out of the raw materials of memory and experience rather than existence 'natural' or inherent. We create an identity (see 'Who is Mike Johnson?') out of these same raw materials, a sense of identity that will shift and change over fourth dimension. Even a brusk period of time.
"I alter during the course of a twenty-four hour period. I wake and I'g 1 person, and when I go to sleep I know for certain I'thousand somebody else. I don't know who I am almost of the fourth dimension."
This confession has less to do with what it's like to be Bob Dylan, a fabricated up character if ever there was 1, than the nature of identity itself – the contingent nature of our own self as it fluctuates in the spacetime continuum.
That fluctuation of cocky is what underlies the structure of 'Tangled upward in Blue', its replaceable components, its changing moods and shifting verses over time.
'Pathos Row', written ten years before, escapes linearity by opening up space. It'south like a slow pan of the camera across the cityscape, noting characters and scenes. 'Tangled' does something different, it pretends, at the beginning (early one morning…) to offering a narrative, simply what is delivered is a series of events and situations that prevarication abreast each other in time, to be viewed simultaneously within the geography of retention.
And he headed down to New Orleans,
where they treated him like a boy.
He nigh went mad in Baton Rouge,
he nearly drowned in Delacroix
the piling up of place names is indicative. Retentiveness is place; elapsing contracts; bits of time jostle together like objects in space, or places on a map. The song is viewed as we would a painting, as a whole, a whole which swallows both space and fourth dimension inside an overriding emotional glue:tangled upwardly in blue… Emotion is the context for this not-linearity: its landmarks vest not to time only to feeling. Although its verses must be sung within time, and strung 1 later on the other, outside of time all things are happening at once, at the aforementioned time.
And yet we are left with the sense of journey, of existence still on the road of lessons learned and boats burned in the jumble of the personal past.
It's not surprising, therefore, that Mr D has ever treated the song as moveable feast, retelling the story in different ways within its emotional parameters. Locations change, pronouns shift nearly, whole verses are dropped and new ones added. This marks it as a very different song from most the 1960s canon. Just Similar a Rolling Stone has its lyrics more than or less prepare in physical. He might drop the odd verse in performance, but never change or fiddle with those familiar lines. Imagine if the lyrics to Bravado in the Wind changed every time he performed it.
'Tangled' is not so much a song as a template. Within that template the elements may vary, just as the mood or spirit of the performances vary. The story changes with each new 'Bob Dylan' who performs it, and notwithstanding stays the same. Can we even rely on a stable point of view throughout the song? (as in Lyn Hejinian My Life) I, he, she, they, us, you – they're an illusion to me now… Just shifting identities in the passing parade of memories. This is non ane song, merely dozens.
I was amazed that I had to gather eight performances to capture anywhere near the full dimensions of the song. I believe Dylan has performed it over fourteen hundred times. This song, conceived within a context of the most personal songs he always wrote (the Blood on the Tracks period) became something of a stadium rock anthem. Its catchy, fast driving chords are immediately recognizable, and it can wrack up a oversupply.
Bask the performances.
1975 ROLLING THUNDER REVIEW VERSION
Possibly the well-nigh famous of all performances with over 10 meg You Tube hits, and has managed to survive all the Spider web Sheriff's purges. But notice that this version is not as buoyant equally the anthology version. It's a little flatter and harder. A little sharper edged.
Track one here.
1978
Four years later, in the big ring bout, Dylan completely re-vamped the song, slowing it down to a carol, sacrificing that forrard drive for a more than jazzy song reflection. This is a pretty poor recording just will give you the idea. Dylan is in excellent voice.
1984
A drastic revision of the song in terms of lyrics, simply we're back to an audio-visual presentation. This is a darker and more ragged vocal than the previous versions. The smooth edges take grown prickly. Buoyancy has given style to bitterness. Sounds more like a hangover jag bad trip:
And information technology all came crashing downward,
I was already s.
I didn't know whether the earth was flat or circular,
I had the worst gustation in my mouth,
that I ever knew,
Tangled up in blue.
We're back to the original lyrics. This is a fast, well-baked performance with Tom Piffling'southward band.
1995
The greatest functioning ever? A cranked up, scintillating version. This one sparkles. The rapid commitment and echo in the voice makes this one a stand out.
1999
An eleven infinitesimal epic, all stops removed version. Mid-paced and hard-driving. Mr D'south voice is a bit scratchy at the start, but the song soon winds up. Fans of Dylan's percussive guitar style volition honey his solos hither. He can hit the same two or 3 notes over and over again and still push the song hard – information technology'southward all in the timing. Then a long harmonica solo that builds from placidity beginnings to pounding ecstasy. This is the stadium rock version, template of many a performance. A must for whatever bobcat!
This one gets my vote for the weirdest performance of all time. A strange, constricted base line, a hoarse end-of-the-night delivery, and a divine harmonica solo that floats above that odd walking baseline like a hawk on the fly. You'll never hear anything quite similar this. I phone call it the mechanical version. Seriously minimal.
The story should end with the 2009 version, but no, it is reborn in 2013 with a whole set of new lyrics, a gentle delivery and whimsical piano by Mr D. Terminal verse seems to me at least as good every bit the original. This 2014 version now sounds like a coda, an epilogue on a lifetime of re-creating the song.
Now I'one thousand goin' back again,I've got to get to them somehow
Yesterday is goneand tomorrow might as well be now
Some went up to the mount
And some they're downwards in the footing
Some of their names are written in flames
And some of them just left town
Me, I'grand still on the route, tryin' to stay out of the joint
We always felt the same,depending on your point of view
Tangled up in bluish
LYRICS
1984 Variant
Early one morning, the lord's day was shining. He was laying in bed. wondering if she changed at all, if her hair was nevertheless red. Her folks they said that their lives together sure was gonna be rough. They never did like mama's homemade dress, Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough. And he was standing on the side of the road pelting falling on his shoes, heading out for the alone e coast, radio blasting the news directly on through Tangled up in blue.
She was married when they first met, to a man four times her age. He left her penniless, in the state of regret, it was time to break out of the cage. They drove that car as far as they could, abandoned it out w. splitting upwardly on a dark, deplorable night, both like-minded that it was best. And she turned around to expect at him as he was walking abroad. She said I wish I could tell you all the things that I never learned how to say. He said that's alright babe I love you as well, but nosotros were tangled up in blue.
He had a steady job and a pretty confront, and everything seemed to fit. One twenty-four hour period he could but feel the waste, he put information technology all down and split. And he headed down to New Orleans, where they treated him like a boy. He nearly went mad in Billy Rouge, he nearly drowned in Delacroix(sp). And all the time he was alone, the by was close backside. he had i too many lovers then, and none of them were besides refined, all except for you, simply you were tangled upwards in blue.
She was working in the blinding light, and I stopped in for a drink. I but kept looking at her confront then white, I didn't know what to think. After on as the crowd thinned out, I was getting set up to leave. She was standing there, beside my chair, saying "What's that yous got up your sleeve?" I said "nil infant, and that's for sure" She leaned downward into my face up. I could feel the heat and the pulse of her as she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe, Tangled up in blue.
I lived with him on Montague street in a basement downwards the stairs. There was snowfall all wintertime and no estrus, revolution was in the air. So one day all his slaves ran free, something within of him died. The merely thing I could exercise was be me, and become on that train and ride. And information technology all came crashing downward, I was already south. I didn't know whether the world was flat or round, I had the worst taste in my mouth, that I ever knew, Tangled up in blue.
Now I'm going back again, perchance tomorrow, possibly next year. I've got to find someone among the women and men whose destiny is unclear. Some are ministers of illusion, some are masters of the trade. All nether potent delusion, all of their beds are unmade. Me I'yard heading toward the lord's day, trying to stay out of the joint. We always did dear the very aforementioned one. We just saw her from a different point of view, Tangled up in blueish.
Original version:
Early one forenoon the sun was shining
I was laying in bed Wond'ring if she'd changed information technology all If her hair was withal crimson Her folks they said our lives together Certain was gonna be rough They never did like Mama'due south homemade apparel Papa's bankbook wasn't large enough And I was standing on the side of the road Rain falling on my shoes Heading out for the Due east Coast Lord knows I've paid some dues getting through Tangled upwardly in blue.
She was married when nosotros first come across Soon to be divorced I helped her out of a jam I guess But I used a piddling too much force Nosotros drove that car as far as nosotros could Abandoned it out West Divide it upwardly on a nighttime sorry night Both agreeing it was best She turned around to look at me Every bit I was walking away I heard her say over my shoulder "We'll meet over again someday on the avenue" Tangled up in blue.
I had a chore in the great due north woods Working every bit a melt for a spell Only I never did like information technology all that much And one day the ax simply vicious So I drifted down to New Orleans Where I happened to be employed Working for a while on a fishing boat Correct outside of Delacroix But all the while I was alone The past was shut behind I seen a lot of women But she never escaped my mind my love just grew Tangled up in blue.
She was working in a topless place And I stopped in for a beer I just kept looking at her side of her face In the spotlight so clear And later on on as the crowd thinned out I's just about to do the same She was standing at that place in dorsum of my chair Proverb "Jimmy, Don't I know your name ?" I muttered something underneath my breath She studied the lines on my face I must admit I felt a little uneasy When she bent downwards to tie the laces of my shoe Tangled up in bluish.
She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe "I thought you'd never say hello" she said "Y'all look like the silent type" Then she opened upwards a book of poems And handed information technology to me Written by an Italian poet From the thirteenth century And every 1 of them words rang true And glowed like burning coal Pouring off of every page Similar information technology was written in my soul from me to you Tangled up in blue
I lived with them on Montague Street In a basement down the stairs There was music in the caf, south at night And revolution in the air And then he started into dealing with slaves And something inside of him died She had to sell everything she owned And froze upwards within And when finally the bottom fell out I became withdrawn The just affair I knew how to do Was to go on on keeping on similar a bird that flew Tangled upward in blue.
So now I'one thousand going dorsum once more I got to go her somehow All the people we used to know They're an illusion to me now Some are mathematicians Some are carpenter's wives Don't know how it all got started I don't what they're doing with their lives But me I'm still on the road Heading for some other joint We ever did feel the aforementioned We merely saw information technology from a unlike point of view Tangled up in Blueish.
…Splittin' up on a dark sad night
Somewhere in the wilderness
He turned effectually to await at her
As she was walkin' away
Sayin' over my shoulder
"We're gonna meet again someday, truckin' downwardly the avenue"
Tangled upwardly in blue
Well, she lit a burner on the stove
And then she swept abroad the dust
"I thought you looked similar someone that I used to know,
You look like someone that I can trust"
Then she opened upward a book of poems And and so she said, "Just so you'll know
Memorize these lines, and remember these rhymes
When you're out there walkin' to and fro"
And every one of them words rang true
Glowed like burnin' coal
Pouring off of every pagelike information technology was written in my soul from me to yous
Tangled up in blue
Now I'g goin' back again,I've got to get to them somehow
Yesterday is goneand tomorrow might too be now
Some went up to the mountain
And some they're down in the ground
Some of their names are written in flames
And some of them just left town
Me, I'yard still on the road, tryin' to stay out of the joint
Nosotros ever felt the same,depending on your point of view
Tangled up in blue
Source: https://www.lasaviapublishing.com/confessions-of-a-bobcat/2016/11/30/tangled-up-in-blue-1974
Post a Comment for "Tangled Up in Blue Hard Times Come Again No More"