Bob Dylan Plays ‘Tell Me Momma’ At Manchester Free Trade Hall

Listen to this song by an electrified, and transformed Bob Dylan from his historic 1966 appearance at the Manchester Free Trade Hall.  It’s the rocking ‘Tell Me Momma”, the opening salvo of the second half of the program when he was joined onstage by the Hawks. The performance, and indeed the whole concert, had been bootlegged for decades (known by the misnomer “Royal Albert Hall Concert”), finally getting an official release with 1998’s The Bootleg Series, Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live, 1966: The “Royal Albert Hall Concert”.

Dylan goes electric! I’m betting that the songs coming out of him from 1965-66 were from a place as mysterious to him as it is to us as listeners. It took the world a bit of time to catch up. Having said that, sales of his albums featuring ‘electric’ sounds didn’t seem to waver. He managed to create one of his most successful runs as a recording artist immediately up to and after these shows. By 1974, when Dylan and the Band (who had once been the Hawks) took to the road again, the boos of the past became the cheers of adulation those songs, and that sound, had always deserved.

Dylan ‘going electric’ is a high point in rock history, and what a rocky road it took to get to the place where it’s recognized as the artistic triumph that it was.  The crowd at the Manchester Free Trade Hall in May of 1966 were fans of the solo Dylan, singing his tried and true folk songs as he’d done faithfully up until Newport in 1965.  And to be fair, Dylan gave the audience what they wanted, within the confines of his own interpretation of those songs in his new paradigm, and pushing the limits of his audiences’ expectations of the songwriter.

The first half of the program was focused on Dylan with his acoustic guitar, albeit singing in a new voice, and with a new appearance.  Checked shirts, short hair, and a down-home and earnest stage persona had been replaced by a wild mop of curls, shades, and an urbane wardrobe.  He had transformed himself  into a sort of beautifully wasted beat poet standing in the place of Woody Guthrie’s supposed heir apparent.

But, no one knew just how much things had changed until the Hawks joined Dylan for the second half of the show, and the band launched into the no-holds-barred rock n’ roll of “Tell Me Momma”.

No one had heard anything like this at the time, when the rules of rock music were only just being invented.  It wasn’t the first time that an artist outraged an audience by challenging their expectations, but it was certainly the first time in rock history when it had been done so dramatically.  The cries of ‘Judas’ , booing and jeering, and disgruntled concert-goers interviewed after this show and others are now a part of rock history as much as the performances are.

But what strikes me the most is the mystery of Dylan’s motivation.  What was it that made him stray from a path that virtually guaranteed him an audience and lifetime career, in favour of such an artistic risk?  I’m sure that his plugging-in wasn’t a completely spontaneous move.  After all, the British Invasion proved that electrified guitar music had an audience, and quite a significant one. There was money to be made in playing it.   But, nobody expected it from Dylan.

The change in artistic direction which is so much more common these days was virtually unheard of on this scale in 1965-66.  I can only guess what inspired Dylan.  And this is my guess: amazement.  I think that the songs coming out of Dylan amazed even him.  And perhaps in his head they demanded to be heard through pick-ups and amps, rather than through the PA systems of smaller theatres, coffee houses, and folk festivals.

I think Dylan did it for the songs.


Bob Dylan Sings ‘Desolation Row’

Listen to this track of one Robert Zimmerman AKA Bob Dylan with his 1965 epic length ‘Desolation Row’ , the studio version from his album Highway 61 Revisited and this one from Bob Dylan Live 1966.  If you thought that Westerns, Victor Hugo, Shakespeare, Ezra Pound, and T.S Eliot couldn’t live in the same song, then Dylan disagreed.  What’s more, he went and wrote it.

A lot has been written about Dylan’s love of language, and his ability to inspire the same in his fellow songwriters.  Yet, it becomes apparent in interviews with him that he is in awe of the songs as we are, particularly recently as he is quoted as saying that songwriting would never be that free for him again.  In this sense, the material here is larger than any intent he may have had at the time.  And when you consider the sheer scale of what he’s achieved here, it stands to reason.

There is something about this track which evokes the underbelly of American society, the end of the world, and garden variety absurdism all at the same time.    I think what Dylan was really after was throwing as much imagery at us as he could, and have us decide which images stick for ourselves. Taking it apart  verse by verse and trying to interpret the song devalues it, I think, despite the temptation to do so.  For me, it’s the images of the characters, and the busy work that Dylan describes that make up their lives.  And yet, like each verse, all of that busy work ends up in the same place – Desolation Row.  For me there is a lesson there; that Desolation Row is that place our society is headed when we let insecurities and fears of that which we don’t understand get the better of us, as a people.

Most recently, this song was covered by My Chemical Romance for the Watchmen movie soundtrack, I film I have just come back from seeing tonight.  Their version makes it sound not unlike Billy Idol’s ‘Dancing With Myself’, which is quite an achievement.  But, the point is in the spirit of the Watchmen film, the human race does seem to be distracted by greed and fear, and by the pursuit of things which ultimately lead to heartache in an effort to serve both.  And perhaps this is another takeaway as far as Dylan’s song goes – that insecurity and acts which go to serve it take us to the places where our insecurities tell us to avoid in the first place; greed into poverty, fear into danger, and possessiveness into desolation.


The Band Say “Happy Thanksgiving and Goodbye” With The Last Waltz

Here’s a clip of The Band with Bob Dylan performing “Forever Young/Baby Let Me Follow You Down” from The Last Waltz, performed, filmed, and recorded 32 years ago today in 1976 at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco.  The Band were saying goodbye to sixteen years on the road, one-half of the time since this appearance was filmed.  Guitarist Robbie Robertson would never play with his four Band-mates together again.

The Band and Bob Dylan of course shared a common history, in that they had accompanied him on his turbulent 1966 tour where he’d gone electric, scandalizing his folk  fan base by bringing along what many considered to be a second rate rock ‘n’ roll band playing second rate music.  One of the songs on that tour was the Reverend Gary Davis‘ “Baby Let Me Follow You Down”, which done here has the crowd enthralled instead of appalled.  It’s amazing how a decade can change someone’s mind.

Also, Bob and the Band had recorded an album together two years before this performance called Planet Waves.  One of the songs on that record was Bob’s “Forever Young”, written for his children.  Of course here, maybe it has farther reaching connotations.  By 1976, the last embers of the Sixties were pretty much going cold.  And the Last Waltz, although set up as a farewell concert to the Band, was in the end a farewell to that era too.  Many of those who appeared in the film would come face to face with middle age, and with a new generation of record buyers who had not grown up with them, and did not recognize their stature.  Others wouldn’t live much past the end of the era – Muddy Waters, Paul Butterfield, and Band singer and pianist Richard Manuel would all die within ten years after the film was released.  For them, it was a last hurrah in the spotlight.

Like most things in life, there was not a clearly demarcated passing of one era to another.  Many of the performers at the Last Waltz would make remarkable, career-defining music afterward.  Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Van Morrison, and of course Dylan are the most obvious candidates here.  Yet the spirit of the times out of which they emerged as artist would be a memory before the end of the decade.  In many ways, that what this film is from where I stand – a document of the end of a special era, giving way to a series of new eras, equally special, yet never the same again.

For me this is what makes this clip, and the movie itself so compelling.  It’s as if they knew that the moment they were in was an important one.  They knew that they had to preserve it for posterity.   And thank god they did!

Happy Thanksgiving!


Bob Dylan Performs “Idiot Wind” from Blood on the Tracks

Here’s a clipof Bob Dylan with the centerpiece track taken from one of his strongest efforts, 1975’s Blood on the Tracks.  The album would be one of the most critically praised albums of his career, coming as he was out of something of a creative slump, and also at the beginning of the end of his marriage to wife Sara Lownds Dylan.  At the end of a writing stint after his first tour in eight years, he had the best songs in five years on his hands, and he knew that he owed it to his own muse to make sure that they were conveyed properly.

Bob Dylan 1980
Bob Dylan’s artistic fortunes had begun to ramp up by the time he recorded and toured with his old ‘army buddies’ The Band in 1974. But, the year would prove to be even more productive and hectic, recording his next album “Blood on the Tracks” not once, but twice, before the end of the year. The record was released in January, 1975, hitting the number one spot. It was, and is, almost universally regarded as his best album of the decade, comparing easily to his mid-60s heyday in terms of quality and timelessness. (image: Jean-Luc)

In the winter of 1974, Bob Dylan ruminated on his latest recording session for his upcoming Blood on the Tracks album. The album was recorded months earlier in New York City, with hot session musicians under the watchful eye of producer Phil Ramone. The sessions had been productive but tense, with Dylan’s modus operandi grating on the nerves of the musicians.

Dylan is a spontaneous mercurial artist demanding the same of his band.  And on this occasion, these sessioners demanded consistency and time to “get it right” from their leader.  But, Dylan never played the same song the same way twice, sometimes even with different chords.  And as usual,  he changed the words to the songs on the fly, making the establishment of cues for the musicians to be something of a moving target.

Needless to say, although the tracks were serviceable ( and a few later to appear on the The Bootleg Series, Vols. 1-3 : Rare And Unreleased, 1961-1991 compilation in the 80s), Dylan knew that the material was his best in years,  deserving a treatment that was off the beaten track.  So after the New York sessions, and after the release date for the record was pushed back, Dylan had time to re-think what it was that he really wanted.  In an effort to bring it all back home, that’s where he went; back to Minnesota.  And with a call to his brother David, a local music producer, he arranged sessions at a local Minneapolis recording studio, Sound 80.

David Zimmerman had several connections on the local scene, mostly for the advertising world who needed musicians and studio space for their ad campaign jingles.  He also provided studio time for local musicians and songwriters, often using the same musicians on the sessions. Such were the conditions of this particular set of sessions, around Christmas time in ’74.  Additionally, Dylan asked his brother to see if he couldn’t locate a 1937 0042G Martin acoustic guitar, a half-size guitar which had been made popular by Dylan’s former flame Joan Baez.

Luckily, a local musician and music shop owner Chris Weber had one, although it was a ’34.  He was asked to bring it to the session to see if Dylan was interested in buying it and using it on the record.  Dylan introduced himself to Weber, and introduced his young son Jakob too.  Weber played the guitar for Dylan, the two men in a small sound booth, sheltering there while the rest of the band tuned up.  After asking Weber to play a tune, Dylan played one of his own, using the guitar.  “You play well,” Dylan said.  “Here’s one of mine.”  The song he played was “Idiot Wind”, the first song soon to be recorded at the session that day.  It seemed that the guitar  Weber had would do.

Just before the session began, Weber loitered in the booth while the musicians gathered around Dylan.  Weber hoped that he’d be allowed to stay and watch the recording. Then Dylan turned, looking through the booth at Weber with a puzzled look on his face.  Weber’s heart sank.  “I was hoping I could stay and watch the sessions”.  Dylan eyed Weber. “No, man,” he said.  ” I need you to play guitar on this.”

Weber jumped from the booth in excitement, guitar in hand, knowing that he would play on one of Dylan’s greatest tracks.  He would be a part of history.

For more about on this incredible story of Bob Dylan’s re-recording of his Blood on the Tracks album, read Andy Gill’s A Simple Twist of Fate: Bob Dylan and the Making of Blood on the Tracks as I’m doing right now.


Bob Dylan Performs ‘Changing of the Guards’ from 1978’s Street Legal

Here’s a clip of Bob Dylan performing a mid-career high point in 1978’s “Changing of the Guards”, a song which evokes the spirit of his best epics, although with a decidedly late-70s production sheen.

Bob Dylan, 1978
Bob Dylan, 1978

The Street Legal album was looked upon by critics and by many fans as a step downward from the highly praised Blood on the Tracks and Desire albums. These previous records were accepted as new heights in Dylan’s discography, on par with his legendary 60s output in the minds of many. As such, Street Legal had a lot working against it; expectations were running high. And while in the middle of a divorce settlement and a number of personnel problems in getting a band together for a tour, Dylan was stressed out even before recording began. Further to this, times were changing and Dylan was looked upon as being very much a part of the old guard – which may or may not account for the song’s title. Yet Dylan being Dylan, he chose a path which was more in line with the musical heroes of his past despite any pressure on him to be more in line with younger artists. Specifically, he formed a sound around his hero Elvis Presley who had built up a similar approach to building large scale backing groups during his Las Vegas years. Elvis’ death on August 16, 1977 affected Dylan deeply, apparently. Perhaps this was his way of paying homage. I wonder what a slap-back echo, rockabilly record from Dylan would have sounded like…

To many, this album is all gloss with a level of slickness which undercuts the depth of the songs. But, I really like this tune in particular; this is classic Dylan in the role of the aging prophet, with spiritual imagery presented on a Biblical scale. The song’s lyrics are firmly in Dylan’s own world of watchtowers and wicked messengers. I actually think the lush arrangement and call-and-response backing vocals helps this effect. This is big music, even if it’s a little bit of its time.

Speaking of spiritual imagery on a Biblical scale, in 1978, Dylan had begun his flirtation with Christianity, which would evolve (devolve?) into full immersion by the following year. His subsequent albums until 1981 would pursue his interest in gospel-rock to its most logical conclusion, with much of his trademark lyrical obfuscation traded for overt Christian messaging. It’s been argued pretty convincingly that Dylan’s foray into the gospel world started much earlier at least where his lyrical approach is concerned, if not in its blatant content. His love of gospel music early in his career is pretty well documented. In this light, the music giving way to deeper personal exploration wasn’t out of nowhere, even if it seemed that way to many fans. And you can see the first sprouts of those seeds here on Street Legal, even before his official “Gospel Bob” phase began the next year. ‘Changing of the Guards’ is a great example of Dylan’s continuing interest in spiritual imagery, just before he plunged himself headlong into lyrical sloganeering. In this the Street Legal album was the end of one era, with hints at the beginnings of the next.


Happy Birthday, Bob Dylan!

Happy birthday to Robert Allen Zimmerman aka Bob Dylan, born this day in 1941 in Duluth Minnesota and raised in nearby Hibbing. Born “far from home” according to his own account in Martin Scorsese’s 2005 documentary Bob Dylan – No Direction Home, he knew that there was something out there for him to do, and it had something to do with the sounds coming out of his radio.

Young Bob DylanSo, after forming a rock n’ roll group, and playing piano for touring singers, he pursued folk music after pawning his electric guitar for an acoustic. At some point too, he changed his name to Bob Dylan, starting out with the intention of going by Bob Allen, using his middle name, and then deciding that “Dylan” had more connection to the world of poetry through Dylan Thomas. Young Bob was excited by the Beat poets, Hank Williams, the blues, and by Woody Guthrie, a songwriter who would inspire him to write songs of his own and seek out a community of others who were driven to do the same thing. First, he went to Minneapolis, and then to New York’s Greenwich Village.

The folk community in the Village embraced him and his incredible gift for folk interpretation as evidenced on his first album Bob Dylan released in 1962 on Columbia Records, the record label that has retained him since. The folk community loved him even more after the release of his second album, The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan in 1963. Even the rock n’ roll world stood up and took notice of that one. The album contained Bob Dylan originals such as “Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright”, “Talking World War III Blues” and the era-defining “Blowin’ in the Wind”, which would become a civil rights anthem. Such was the impact of his writing and stage presence that the folk community wanted to make Bob the successor to Woody Guthrie, who’d been hospitalized by the end of the 50s with Huntington’s Chorea. Bob would visit Woody in the hospital a number of times, starting in 1961. But as Bob branched out and developed his craft, he showed that he had no intention of accepting the mantle of his hero. To make this clear, he sang that he didn’t “want to work on Maggie’s farm no more” during a tumultuous appearance at the 1965 Newport folk festival. His pursuit of electrified sounds, and use of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band for the performance demonstrated a new direction that certainly didn’t involve any further marches to Washington, or any other songs about answers Blowin’ in the wind. Bob was on his way down Highway 61 instead.

The next year in 1966, he pissed off folkies in Britain too, touring with an R&B band called the Hawks who blew the roof off of the Manchester Free Trade Hall, and helped to get Bob labeled “Judas”. They wanted the earnest folk singer of two years previous, not the speeded-out, wild-haired beatnik with the black and white telecaster and impenetrable shades. It is important to note that the concept that an artist could “change direction” was an alien one in 1966, nor was there any conventional ‘rock press’ to explain it to fans. Until Dylan, no one took this idea seriously on a mainstream level. Both the concept and the strain of journalism to convey it had yet to be invented, until Bob Dylan plugged in and dropped out of the folk pantheon in order to follow his own course. Somewhere in there, Bob made a string of classic records including rock’s first double LP, entitled Blonde on Blonde which he recorded in Nashville. The songs reveled in electrified country-flavoured rock music, equally influenced by the Beatles, and revealing his playfulness when it came to his lifelong romance with the english language.

And then, Bob changed again.

Bob Dylan 1966After returning home from his harrowing tour in Europe later that year, he had a motorcycle accident near his home in rural upstate New York. Details were sketchy at the time, and there were a lot of conflicting reports as to the severity of his injuries. But, serious or not, it took him off the map for 18 months. In late 1967, he emerged with a new album which completely went against the grain of the brightly-coloured, psychedelic times. This new record even stood in stark contrast to Blonde on Blonde. That album was John Wesley Harding – sepia-toned, spare, and desolate, yet also strangely biblical in it’s parable-like approach in the songwriting. He would further his efforts with two more albums – Nashville Skyline in 1969 which is a straight-ahead country album sung in an entirely new voice, and Self-Portrait in 1970, a collection of fragments and odd cover versions. Both of those albums were attempts to move further away from his supposed “voice of a generation” status, a position he had always rejected. His life at home was difficult once members of the counterculture tracked him down, visiting his home at all hours, and unwilling to acknowledge that he had a wife and children who didn’t see Dylan as they saw him. And indeed Bob himself saw nothing common in the graven image these people were erecting and equating to him. He just wanted to be a musician and raise a family at the same time, without being pestered about issues over which he had no strong opinion or control.

Bob Dylan Mid-70sBy the mid-70s, Bob’s marriage was on the outs, yet he enjoyed another purple patch of creativity to rival the one which had established him a decade before. He toured for the first time in 8 years, taking the Band along with him, the group who had once been the very Hawks who had stood by him in facing a sea of glaring faces during his ’66 tour. And he put out the excellent Blood on the Tracks, and its follow up Desire in 1975 and 1976 respectively. The supporting tours would be branded the Rolling Thunder Revue, featuring a number of Bob’s friends including Joan Baez, Roger McGuinn, T-Bone Burnett, Mick Ronson, Rambling Jack Elliot, and many others who would join the tour and fall away from town to town. Bob wore white make-up on stage to accentuate his face. But the mask would always be looked upon as symbolic more so than practical. With Dylan, it was hard for critics to avoid. The mask was his stage face. He would always give a version of himself away, never the real thing (if such a person exists). His make-up was looked upon as a challenge to the identities his fans and critics attempted to place upon him.

There were further phases after that, as the tours stretched into years, and the years to decades. Dylan discovered Jesus in 1978 and sang about it for three albums. But, like many voices established in the 60s, Dylan had a patchy 80s overall. He thought about retiring a number of times. Still, he toured with Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, became a Traveling Wilbury , made a live album with the Grateful Dead, and worked for the first time with Daniel Lanois on 1988’s Oh Mercy. He had been granted entry into the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame that year, and was honoured in concert by friends and admirers.

Bob Dylan UnpluggedIn terms of recording during the 90s, he recorded an Unplugged show for MTV with an accompanying live album, and cut two albums of folk cover tunes – World Gone Wrong and As Good As I’ve Been To You – which made some wonder about whether or not his muse had skipped town. But then again, these records made others remember why Columbia records had signed him in 1962 in the first place – for his love of dusty old tales of betrayal and misfortune, and his ability to deliver them convincingly in a voice that was nothing less than original.

By 1997, Bob had dashed any doubts about his writing talent on the rocks with the critical and commercial smash Time Out of Mind, a collection of brutally eloquent songs about age, love, loss, fear, and death, again produced by Daniel Lanois. This, and an Oscar for his song “Things Have Changed” as featured in the film Wonder Boys would firm up his status as a songwriting elder statesman, as would his follow-up album Love and Theft in 2001, released on September 11 of that year. A third album in the trilogy would appear in 2006 – Modern Times. Interest in Dylan was driven by Scorsese’s documentary, his own autobiography entitled Chronicles Volume One, as well as Todd Haynes’ meta-biography I’m Not There in 2007 in which Bob, or a series of self-aware impressions of him, is portrayed by several actors, one of which is Cate Blanchet. In what other life could such an approach be feasible?

Like many songwriters, Bob Dylan sees himself as a vessel, out of which pours images and melody. The term ‘prophet’ sits uncomfortably with him as he has said that he doesn’t know where these things come from. It makes sense that if he were a prophet, he should know. But as it is, it’s a mystery to him too, which I suppose is why he keeps it up, why he tours almost constantly, and perhaps why people are fascinated with his work. Everyone loves a good mystery. And Bob Dylan is certainly that as well.

Bob Dylan is an artist who is both loved and hated – you either get him or you don’t. But, either way, the truth of it is that his work has benefited everyone who calls themselves a songwriter. Dylan proved you could sing in any sort of voice and be listened to, if what you were saying meant something to an audience. Where it’s easy to take this for granted these days when everyone writes songs about what ever they want to write about, it is important to remember that things were not always this way. And Bob Dylan was one of the few who cut the trail on which others currently tread.

Happy Birthday, Bob!

Bob Dylan


Hear Bob Dylan talk about his life and work in this interview with Ed Bradley from the television news program 60 Minutes.

Part 1

Part 2

And read about a new crop of Bob Dylan photos recently discovered, and taken around the time of Bob’s 1966 electric tour.


Bob Dylan Meets the Beatles

I’ve found a hilarious, and (perhaps not surprisingly) drug-related reference to the first Dylan-Beatles meeting in 1964. Another Beatles/Bob thread; I can’t help myself.

Take a look!

This is actually based on documented events, when Bob allegedly brought along a bit of greenery to the Beatles hotel suite while they were in New York. The Beatles up until then were speed users from their days playing 8-hour sets in Hamburg, but had never tried smoking marijuana. Ringo was, according to legend, the first one to toke up. Then, all the Beatles indulged, including manager Brian Epstein.

Source: via Patrícia on Pinterest

By the next year, they were all potheads, particularly during the filming of Help!, where they were viewed as a giddy bunch of guys, often prone to fits of laughter at the slightest provocation.

The Song in My Head Today: ‘Not Dark Yet’ by Bob Dylan

Bob DylanJungian Radio (my inner playlist) has delivered another gem; ‘Not Dark Yet’, one of the jewels in the crown of Bob Dylan’s brilliant 1997 album Time Out of Mind.

I was thinking of including this one in an upcoming article called 10 Songs About Aging, but the song has been pretty insistent in my head today, so it gets its own article. I may write about it again anyway, given that it is one of my favourite songs by Bob Dylan.

This is a tune about finding oneself at the latter half of one’s life, expecting the wisdom which is meant to come with advancing years, and finding it absent. In the past, Dylan’s lyrics have often been a series of red herrings, pointing a listener in one direction, and then throwing in lines which make one doubt the veracity of an initial interpretation. But this song is pointed, acknowledging that time has passed with very little to show for it except for past hurts; scars that the sun didn’t heal. There is no hiding behind imagery here. This is confession from the basement, the voice at rock bottom.

In this song we see the portrait of the well-traveled man, weighted down by years rather than nurtured or informed by them. It is a snapshot of a person who has seen a lot, but gives no indication that there remains any insight to make his life better. The exact nature of this existential quandary is not specified, but it doesn’t seem to matter very much. This is a man who is trapped, perhaps by his own expectations.

I love this song, this beautifully sad treatise on what it feels like to age, and to be disappointed with how life has turned out when you expected so much more. Who knows whether or not Dylan is revealing himself in this song. This doesn’t matter either. The point is that there is a universal sentiment described here; the fear of age and the fear of death. This is not just about the worry that life will end, but it’s about the downward journey toward that end, and the fear that the search for beauty is also about the embrace of something which is ultimately about pain. This is a sobering set of thoughts, yet beautiful in their honesty.

Check out the clip to hear this superlative song by Bob Dylan, and tell me what you think.

Bob Dylan and the English Language

Bob Dylan

Here’s a clip of Bob Dylan, taken from D.A Pennebaker’s film, Don’t Look Back which is a document of the artist’s 1965 UK tour. This was the infamous tour where he “went electric” with a band in tow (actually the Band, technically). As a result, he was booed and derided every night, because they all wanted to hear him be a folky troubadour, not a rock star.

They were wrong about the music, of course. But, that’s history for you.

Anyway, the clip. It’s a snapshot of an artist on his very last nerve, fried and frazzled at being so far from home, and largely surrounded by people who didn’t really like him including his own fans. But, he had the English language to turn to, always one of Dylan’s true loves. Take a look.