First of all, let me say that these two songs have two things in common: they are both by Dylan, and I wanted to post both. I put them together because I wasn’t sure I would have enough time for two posts.
Suzzy and Maggie Roche: Clothes Line Saga
[purchase]
Bob Dylan has an impish side. Some of his songs seem to have been written in response to his reputation as a profound songwriter; the attitude seems to be, “Let them try to find a profound meaning for this. Heh, heh.” I think Clothes Line Saga is one of these songs. It sort of tells a meandering story about a family waiting for their clothes to dry on the line in January, and goes a lot of places without getting anywhere. The playfulness of it appealed to the Roche sisters, Maggie and Suzzy in this case. Add the third sister Terri and you have The Roches. They have certainly shown a playful side of their own in their work. Incidentally, as far as I can tell, the Roche sisters are the only ones who have recorded a cover of this song.
Dave‘s True Story: Simple Twist of Fate
[purchase]
Bob Dylan, of course, emerged from the Greenwich Village folk scene of the 1960s, along with Joan Baez and many others. Dave’s True Story emerged from the Greenwich Village folk scene of the 1980s, which gave us Suzanne Vega and many others. The 80s scene was fueled by Fast Folk Musical Magazine. Fast Folk released albums on a regular schedule which collected folk artists who were active in the Village folk clubs at the time. For many, this was the artist’s first recorded work, and careers were built.
Dave’s True Story perform what might be called pop-folk, with a strong jazz flavor. They cite Cole Porter and George Gershwin as major influences. Their version of “Simple Twist of Fate” comes from the album Simple Twist of Fate: DTS Does Dylan, which is pretty much what it sounds like.
Angel Snow: Meet Me In The Morning
[purchase]
Chris Smither: Visions of Johanna
[purchase]
Vic Chesnutt: Buckets of Rain
[purchase]
Ramblin' Jack Elliott: Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
[purchase]
I'm a relative newcomer to Bob Dylan fandom, having grown up immersed in a very different, more melodic branch of the folkworld. And I came to that fandom through covers, and thus have spent much more time considering the songbook than I have considering the particular vocal and guitar folkstyle which, love it or hate it, is inimitably unique and Dylanesque. So it's only very recently that I've started to appreciate that carefully constructed nasality, the broken-voiced rawness which Dylan chose to evolve in himself, the better to make meaning in song.
I'm not the best candidate to explain Dylan's particular sound, and I don't think I need to. A library of books and reviews and films have been written on the subject, and it's also true that the Dylan sound is so iconographic, both as sound and as influence, it kind of speaks for itself. But as this wonderful week's journey through the Dylan songbook has progressed, I've found myself thinking about how difficult it is to cover Dylan's tone successfully. I would even posit that the ragged musical trappings are one of the biggest reasons why Dylan songs are so universal and coverable, so much and so immediately a part of the folkways of the larger culture. Which is to say, just as the older folk of Robert Johnson and Blind Willie Johnson are so mutable in the hands of others due to their own stripped down, prototypical recorded form, one of the functions of Dylan's almost tuneless approach to song is to make those songs seem more available for others to finish in their own way.
As I came to understand the power of this deliberately fundamental, elemental nature of Dylan's performance, I have grown to appreciate Dylan for more than just his songwriting and composition. And so, though I used to lean towards fuller production in my own musical taste, I increasingly respect the rawer, more elemental folk musicians, like Nick Drake and Elliott Smith and, more recently, Denison Witmer and newcomer Angel Snow, who, with just guitar and slightly wobbly voice, seem to be working in that same space where Dylan worked.
So I thought it would be worth looking for Dylan covers which try to bring that same sense of rawness to the performance -- songs which, in their own way, seem to be covering both Dylan's song and Dylan's connection with the baseline of emotion and sound that make song so direct a connection between performer and culture. Here's a few of my favorites from that camp, as a kind of end-of-week celebration of Dylan's influence beyond song itself.
Goldie Hawn and the Buckaroos: I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
[purchase]
Emmylou Harris: I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
[purchase]
Burl Ives: I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
[purchase]
Ray Stevens: I'll Be Your Baby Tonight
[out of print]
From my obsession with the Highway 61 Revisited LP (at age 14 in 1965), which was literally a year long sentence (I renewed the mono copy on loan from the Rochester Public Library bi-weekly for a year) I struggled to get the same feeling with the two follow-up Dylan LPs.
Though I drank every drop from ‘Blonde on Blonde” and “Self Portrait” that I could, it wasn’t until “John Wesley Harding” that I found the same spirit again in Dylan’s records. The whole LP came back from the accident in a post-Great White Wonder world where there were Dylan songs all over the airwaves, satisfied by full radio station promo bins with overflowing with bad, good and great Dylan covers. Try looking for Stone Country (early Steve Young) on an RCA 45 doing the ironic ‘Million Dollar Bash’ or The Coven (yes, the same Black Mass group and ‘One Tin Soldier’ group) on S.G.C. (same label as The Nazz) doing a transcendent version of “I Shall Be Released” for two of the greatest (maybe for another post). Of course, there was The Band, The Byrds and Manfreds’ versions of any Dylan and Peter, Paul & Mary, a surprisingly okay version by Goldie Hawn & The Buckaroos, a predictably good version by Linda Ronstadt on ‘Home Grown, Hand Sown’, Rita Coolidge, other lost versions (The Hollies, The Walker Brothers) and an early embarrassing take by Emmylou Harris and a whole lot of crappy easy listening takes of “Lay Lady Lay” by singers like Jim Nabors and the either-you-like-it –or-you-don’t versions by Sebastian Cabot.
“I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” was and has been one of Dylan’s most popular songs covered over many times, right up to the mid 1980s when Robert Palmer put his sophisticated stamp on a version and Kathy Mattea made her Mercury Record’s chart debut on 45 with her beautifully strong & stark country take. [I haven’t heard this one in ages and have never seen it on her Greatest Hits collections. Anyone got this somewhere?]. Maria Muldaur revisited it on her recent Dylan tribute. Can’t find my Judy (Collins) Does Dylan to check on there (a very disappointing project). I gotta believe there are a whole lot of versions I’ve never heard and a few more I’d like.
The earliest two covers I latched onto were done by pop music veterans seeking new acceptance in this hip cover sweepstakes. There was beginning to be a lot of attention given to the post-Dylan songwriting community and it was clear that it resided beyond the traditional folk circles centered mostly on the East Coast. Nashville was VERY accepting of Dylan’s songs, certainly in part to Johnny Cash’s embracing. SO it is very natural to see Burl Ives and Ray Stevens ply their creativity on this song.
Burl Ives’ take of “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” (the rip I have has to be taken from a Columbia white label promo 45 as I’ve never seen a stock or promo Columbia LP with this one on it…anyone else?) sounds like a classic Nashville late 1960s production, though I can’t be sure no longer owning the artifact itself. I like the instrumental backing mix: it was a good mixture between hip and NOT as cloying as many country-politan contemporary Nashville LP cover-stuffers could be. Burl’s voice is very appealing to me on this one…a little Jimmy Crack Corn & Blue Tail Fly memory, maybe? I’m pretty sure his last LP on Decca was cut in 1967 and released in 1968 so as far as I know, this 1968 Columbia 45 may have been his major label recording swansong or very near it. I know he toured through the 70s and 80s, probably doing some private releases. I would love to hear more of Burl from this era.
Ray Stevens’ version of “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” (it’s a vinyl rip with some ticks…sorry) comes from his 1969 Monument Records LP, ‘Have A Little Talk With Myself”. Jerry Kennedy on guitar and Norman Putnam on bass anchor this project, with an 18 piece orchestra of strings and horns under the direction of Mr. Stevens. Co-Producer & Co-Engineer Jim Malloy says in his Technical Notes:
“In addition to doing all the arrangements on this album, Ray Stevens … sings ALL the voices ... plays the piano, organ, bells and any other special effect instruments … and plays the trumpet solo on ‘Spinning Wheel’”
In re-listening to this version, I heard it first in MP3 form, then I dug out the vinyl I have and gave that a listen. I looked for Charlie McCoy (also signed at the time to Monument) in the credits on harmonica because I really love the multi-tracked harp on this cut. No Charlie. It’s RAY, simulating Charlie playing multiple lead harmonica lines with his voice into a harp horn section, a Harmony Vo-conica (my term) if you will. Its addition belies the years of schooling Ray received as a pop-novelty maestro tailoring arrangements to best sell the content of a song [think ‘Ahab’].
This is his LP follow up to the previous year’s breakthrough containing “Unwind” and “Mr. Businessman”, showing the ‘serious’ side of Ray Stevens. The LP contains 3 Beatle songs (Fool On The Hill, Help & Hey Jude), 2 from ‘Hair’ (Aquarius & Hair), Kris Kristofferson’s “Sunday Morning Coming Down”, Joe South’s “Games People Play”, Mike Settle’s “But You Know I Love You” Blood, Sweat & Tear’s “Spinning Wheel” and two from Stevens pen. “Have A Little Talk with Myself” is the single that made it, though I once owned white label promo 45s of “I’ll Be Your Baby…” and “Sunday…”. I’ve wonder if those 45 mixes were a little different. I sure listened to them a lot and played them when I could as a club DJ over the years. Ray really continues applying the same kind of unique audio trademark he leaves on this song throughout the whole LP. I wonder if it has been reissued…pairing it with the previous Monument LP would be ideal as a double and I think a lot of people would sure dig it.
Guest Post Submitted by Duncan
Derek Webb and Sanda McKracken: If Not For You
[purchase]
We've gotten into the habit of leaving also-rans in the comments here at Star Maker Machine, but I couldn't resist following up on Paul's previous post on Olivia Newton John's surprisingly amazing cover by offering this very recent recording of the same song by married Christian singer-songwriters Derek Webb and Sandra McKracken as a full-fledged post. Contemporary Christian music isn't my thing either, but I claim awesomeness: warm voices, delicate, sparse harmonies, acoustic strings, and the perfect hint of imperfection in the performance, just like Dylan would have wanted it. Now that's folk music.
Buddy Miller: With God on Our Side
huh?
I am no Dylan expert but I thought if Wagon Wheel was actually a Dylan cover I would have known by now. This seemed like a job for Google. After a little looking I found this explination from OCMS’s Keith Secor:
“It’d be my pleasure to dispel the myth and rumor about the song Wagon Wheel, or “Rock Me Mama” as Bob Dylan himself called the song when he recorded it down in Mexico in 1972 for the soundtrack of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. This song was not released, and it was not finished either, this is a demo of a practice session of him, Rob Stoner, and a couple of gals doing the chorus over and over again while the bass player learns the bass line. That’s what I heard on a German bootleg about nine years ago in high school. And I wrote the lyrics to the song because I loved the chorus so much and I sung it in my head for maybe a year straight, and then just penned what I penned, which is something of an autobiographical story about just wanting to get outta town, gettin outta school, and just wanting to go play music. It’s sort of autobiographical like that. But yeah, it’s sort of a Bob Dylan co-write with about 25 years inbetween.”
Well there you go. As the late great Chris Thomas used to say, “That’s why you get up in the mornings. You never know what you might learn.”
Jason Webley and The Reverend Peyton - Rock Me Mama
[Out of Print]
So far this week, we have already seen some of Bob Dylan’s remarkable range as a songwriter. He is equally adept at love songs, political songs that become generational anthems, and who-knows-whats that nevertheless resonate with people. But something interesting happens with “Man Gave Names to All the Animals”. The song was originally included on Slow Train Coming, Dylan’s somewhat notorious album where he embraced born-again Christianity; as such, the song is part of a suite of songs which function as an eloquent expression of faith. Dylan’s arrangement of the song was a rock-reggae hybrid.
But the covers of “Man Gave Names to All the Animals” are mostly by folk artists. Taken out of its original context, and given a softer arrangement, the truth is revealed: “Man Gave Names to All the Animals” is a great kid’s song. Not what you usually think of from Dylan.
Townes Van Zandt: Man Gave Names to All the Animals
[purchase]
Townes Van Zandt is one of those tragic figures who litter the pop music landscape. Mostly known during his lifetime to other musicians, it was only after his death at age 52 that his music began to reach a wider audience. “Pancho and Lefty” is probably his best known song. As can be heard here, he was also a fine singer and guitar player.
Tim O‘Brien: Man Gave Names to All the Animals
[purchase]
Tim O’Brien first gained attention as the leader of the bluegrass band Hot Rize in the 1980s. (If you like bluegrass, and have never heard them, do seek them out.) As a solo artist, and in a duo with his sister Mollie, O’Brien has expanded his sound. His version of ”Man Gave...” is from an album of Dylan covers called Red on Blond.
Nickel Creek: Tomorrow Is A Long Time
[purchase]
Tomorrow is a Long Time was first recorded for the famous (and permanently bootlegged) Witmark Demos in 1963, but the only officially released version is a live recording on Dylan's 1971 Greatest Hits Vol II collection; by then, thanks to early distribution of the Witmark Demos, the song had already been turned from its original delicate campfire ballad to something with a little too much saccharine by such mid-sixties unlikelies as Odetta, Elvis, and Ian and Sylvia. As such there is no real definitive version, and -- since by definition originals are usually considered to be the first official recording -- some confusion in my mind over whether or not this is a cover at all.
Happily, not all "covers" of this song misunderstand its intent so badly. Something about the odd extra-measured trope and rhythm of this older Dylan song has attracted some of my favorite folk artists at their best, from Nick Drake to Sandy Denny to Rosalie Sorrels. And, as with so many Dylan covers, there's still more to discover -- for example, I've recently encountered the below version by the Greek folk-pop singer Nana Mouskouri, and think the light freakfolk touch and etherial, high-vibrato vocals are worth passing along, especially for those who have yet to encounter her work.
But going back through the forty-odd years of this song's existence, none of the covers i have heard hold a candle to the delicate newgrass ballad that Nickel Creek makes of it.
Cover or not, this may be one of my favorite Nickel Creek songs ever. It demonstrates effortlessly just how mature and tightly delivered their sound became in the end, before they decided they were ready to move on. Sara Watkins' fragile, breathy voice on lead is perfect for the sentiment; the mandolin and guitar mix is ringing and airy; make sure you stick around for the lovely fiddle and mando duet.
More, however, I think the song actually speaks to the kind of regret and readiness that the band members, who formed their band in their teens, must have been feeling as they saw the horizon of solo projects and self-reliance approaching. Placed at the very heart of Why Should The Fire Die, their final album before breaking up to pursue solo projects, the song is a perfect bittersweet harbinger of their impending dissipation, and an equally powerful reminder of why their star shot so high, and so quickly, before choosing to go out in that blaze of glory.
Bonus:
Nana Mouskouri: Tomorrow Is A Long Time
[purchase]
Susan Tedeschi: Lord Protect My Child
[purchase]
As a coverblogger specializing in folk music, I've posted dozens of Dylan covers in my day, and though there's sure to be some songs too good to pass up, my personal goal not to bring too many repeat tracks to the table this week isn't likely to be much of a challenge: even if I stick to the folkworld, I'm sure to find dozens more tracks as-yet unposted, ripe for the sharing. But sifting through the collection this afternoon, looking for Susan Tedeschi's wonderful blues cover of Don't Think Twice, It's Alright (which I've included as a bonus track below), I finally took a shine to Tedeschi's other Dylan cover, a surprise after months of false starts and half-hearted dismissal. Since I can only assume others are likely to experience their first listen as I have, I'm asking you to trust me today, folks: there's something about this cover that merits listening enough times to appreciate it.
New England blues phenomenon Susan Tedeschi is an acceptable vocalist, but she's really most notable for her blazing blues guitarwork; as such, though this is ultimately a relatively faithful rendition of Dylan's mid-eighties melody, those who listen for the vocals to match the yearning keen of Dylan's original father's prayer, originally released on The Bootleg Series Vol. 1-3, may miss the point. And this track is also an anomaly for Tedeschi, one much slower and production-heavy, easily dismissed as one of very few weak cuts on her otherwise-stellar, unusually broad-ranging 2005 covers album Hope and Desire.
But listen again, with an open mind, and remember that Hope and Desire is predominantly a turning point for Tedeschi, one which attempts to redefine her as a frontwoman as much as her previous work defined her as a soulful guitar virtuoso. Instead of her usual raw vocals and loud blues jam guitar mastery, it is the retro gospel blues arrangement (complete with piano and choir), and the subtle touch on the slide which emerges slowly from the stew of sound after the halfway mark of the track, building to a stunningly subtle yet powerfully emotive instrumental solo, which stand out here. The subtlety is not Tedeschi's strong point -- she really shines better on blazing bluesfunk -- but that just makes the song's success all that more effective, when it comes down to it.
It helps, of course, that I consider this to be one of Dylan's most powerful songs. Maybe you have to be a father to understand, but the sentiment -- that your child could be an object of such wonderment, it makes you consider your own mortality with new stakes; that you might thus fear and pray for his safety, should you suddenly not be around -- cuts right to the heart. Turning Dylan's vocal wail into a guitar cry makes it no less powerful; indeed, splitting off the lyric from the instrument of its sentiment creates a mature tension and depth in what was once a much simpler emotional approach. For that, Tedeschi deserves her second listen, and then some.
Of course, subtlety isn't the only form of power Tedeschi has at her disposal when it comes to interpreting Dylan. As promised, here's her earlier take on another of his tunes.
Susan Tedeschi: Don't Think Twice, It's Alright
[purchase]
The Byrds: You Ain't Going Nowhere
Be Good Tanyas: In My Time Of Dying
[purchase]
Friends of the Stars: In My Time of Dyin'
[live; more FotS]
Led Zeppelin: In My Time Of Dyin'
[purchase]
One of Dylan's greatest contributions to the world of music was his ability to reframe and reclaim folkways as a generative part of the process of popular music; doing so often meant both resetting and rewriting found or scaveged folksong. This organic process is respectable, but it confounds the issue of attribution, leaving us with such highly contested measures of whether a song is actually "by" Dylan as the extent to which the song resembles older versions, whether Dylan lists it as one of "his" songs on his website, and whether or not Dylan owns the copyright.
In the world of cover blogs, the folk process can complicate the question of whether or not a song is a cover, and if so, of whom. My preference, however, is to respect the artist wherever possible, and here, we are talking about Dylan's ownership, I think, not merely origin. Here, then, we are able to consider citation and attribution as a key component of whether a song "counts" for our covers. And as many songs not technically "by" Dylan, in whole or in part, are treated as "Dylan Covers" by the covering artist, we would be remiss in not attending to such covers as we go through the week ahead.
Nowhere is this phenomenon more visible as it is in coverage of Dylan's seminal version of In My Time Of Dying, first released on his self-titled debut album. Though the song has origins as a gospel blues tune, recorded by Blind Willie Johnson in the heart of the Great Depression under the title "Jesus Make Up My Dying Bed", in Dylan's hands, it was reset as a stripped-down, almost appalachian folktune in the familiar style of the earliest field recordings from the Alan Lomax era.
There is no question that Dylan's performance embodied the song in a way that made it his own. The raw power of Dylan's emerging style, coupled with the familiar spiritual themes of dying and afterlife, made for a powerful statement about broken instruments and the body itself -- one as well-suited for the political and social context of the mid sixties as Blind Willie's version was for the dusty depression-era world into which his own recordings had emerged. Over the next few decades, dozens of covers would emerge, most notably a mystical, metallic mid-seventies bluesrock jam from Led Zeppelin. Some, like the Zepplin cover, would show direct evidence of Johnson's blues take, but all would cite Dylan's weary death rattle as both origin and inspiration.
Where Zeppelin seems to speak of rage at the dying of the light, and Dylan's sparse original evokes the solitary death of age and impending death, more recent covers from the indiefolk world seem more tied to the daily drudge and hardship deaths of younger folks in the older mountains and fields. Here, the three ladies of relatively young Canadian americana band The Be Good Tanyas take Dylan's setting of the tune and flesh it out delicately, adding banjo and brush, crisper rhythm and harmonies, giving what is now (thanks to Dylan) popularly thought of as "originally" a solo acoustic folk tune from the post-war era a "modernized" indie-americana instrumentation and trope. You hear the same slightly jangly new-timey rhythm, albeit almost buried under a drone-y, psychedelic approach, and tinged with manic desperation and wailing resistance, in the Peel Sessions recording from UK-based country/folk band Friends of the Stars, too. The result is a full folkspectrum of covers: three very different ways to die, but all times of dying nonetheless.
For comparison's sake, here's neo-folkie and indie fiddler Andrew Bird with a very recent live version of "the" song which, both titularly and lyrically, appears to reach directly back to the Blind Willie Johnson version. Honestly, you can hear the difference -- this is definitively NOT a Dylan cover.
Andrew Bird: Jesus Gonna Make Up My Dyin' Bed
[live; more Bird here]
"We met in a publisher's house as Bob Dylan was making some new material available to other artists. We heard about 10 songs and I thought 'This Wheel's On Fire' would be the one to do, but Manfred liked The Mighty Quinn, which was called 'Quinn The Eskimo' then. It was sung in a rambling monotone but Manfred had recognized its potential. He sold me on the idea of doing this song, but I had to make up some of the words as I couldn't make out everything he was saying. It was like learning a song phonetically in a foreign language. I have never had the first idea what the song is about except that it seems to be 'Hey, gang, gather round, something exciting is going to happen 'cause the big man's coming.' As to who the big man is and why he is an Eskimo, I don't know." - Mike D'Abo of Manfred Mann
And I'm also hesitating by temptation lest it runs
Which it don't follow me
But I'm not there, I'm gone
