Maggie's Farm

"Hallelujah (I'm ready) I'm ready (Hallelujah)
I can hear the voices singing soft and low
Hallelujah (I'm ready) I'm ready (Hallelujah)
Hallelujah I'm ready to go
   
Dark was the night not a star was in sight
On a highway that leads down below
But I let my Savior in and he saved this soul from sin
Hallelujah I'm ready to go

Sinners don't wait before it's too late
He's a wonderful Savior you know
Well I fell on my knees and he answered my pleas
Hallelujah I'm ready to go."

"Hallelujah, I'm Ready To Go," a old bluegrass traditional sung by the likes of Bill Monroe and Ricky Skaggs.  Dylan opened his concerts with this tune often in 1999, as below.

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,
"There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late."

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

"All Along the Watchtower," off 1967's John Wesley Harding, and performed by Bob over 1,400 times since then, making it his most-played song.  Jimi Hendrix's cover is the best-known, eclipsing the original, but the song has been covered by dozens upon dozens of acts, including U2 and the Dave Matthews Band. Below: the original, a mid-90s rock reinterpretation ala Hendrix, and one of Jimi's own performances.

A street scene from one of Knoxville's old bungalow neighborhoods.  These houses, probably built for the city's lower-middle class residents back in the 1920s, provided working class families a first chance to have a place of their own, complete with indoor plumbing, electricity, heat, and a modest backyard.  The homes were probably kept quite tidy at that time, but the entire neighborhood suffered during the postwar move to the suburbs, and by the looks of things has not yet really got back on its feet.

My neighborhood of Edgehill in Nashville, only a block or two from Music Row, once had dozens of blocks of small but dignified bungalows such as these, virtually all of which were bulldozed in the 1960s for public housing, the expansion of Vanderbilt and Belmont universities, and Interstate 65. (The somewhat wealthier streetcar suburbs, just a little further out, were spared the wrecking ball, resulting in a sad situation today where there are very few affordable single-family homes in the area, but plenty of dead-end Section 8 housing).  

For some reason, urban renewal was not as prevalent in Knoxville, and many of the poorer bungalow neighborhoods may still be seen, lying in wait for some enterprising individuals to restore them.

"He was just a blue-eyed Boston boy,
His voice was low with pain.
'I'll do your bidding, comrade mine,
If I ride back again.
But if you ride back and I am left,
You'll do as much for me,
Mother, you know, must hear the news,
So write to her tenderly.

"She's waiting at home like a patient saint,
Her fond face pale with woe.
Her heart will be broken when I am gone,
I'll see her soon, I know.'
Just then the order came to charge,
For an instant hand touched hand.
They said, "Aye," and away they rode,
That brave and devoted band.

Straight was the track to the top of the hill,
The rebels they shot and shelled,
Plowed furrows of death through the toiling ranks,
And guarded them as they fell.
There soon came a horrible dying yell
From heights that they could not gain,
And those whom doom and death had spared
Rode slowly back again.

But among the dead that were left on the hill
Was the boy with the curly hair.
The tall dark man who rode by his side
Lay dead beside him there.
There's no one to write to the blue-eyed girl
The words that her lover had said.
Momma, you know, awaits the news,
And she'll only know he's dead."

"Two Soldiers," a Civil War-era song - author unknown - covered by Dylan on World Gone Wrong in 1993.  Somone has kindly posted the album version on Youtube, see below.

A 1920s home, which incorporates elements from both the bungalow and foursquare styles, in the Belmont-Hillsboro neighborhood of Nashville.

"Uttering idle words from a reprobate mind,
Clinging to strange promises, dying on the vine,
Never bein' able to separate the good from the bad,
Ooh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,
It's makin' me feel so sad.

Dead man, dead man,
When will you arise?
Cobwebs in your mind,
Dust upon your eyes.

Satan got you by the heel, there's a bird's nest in your hair.
Do you have any faith at all? Do you have any love to share?
The way that you hold your head, cursin' God with every move,
Ooh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,
What are you tryin' to prove?

Dead man, dead man,
When will you arise?
Cobwebs in your mind,
Dust upon your eyes.

The glamour and the bright lights and the politics of sin,
The ghetto that you build for me is the one you end up in,
The race of the engine that overrules your heart,
Ooh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,
Pretending that you're so smart.

Dead man, dead man,
When will you arise?
Cobwebs in your mind,
Dust upon your eyes.

What are you tryin' to overpower me with, the doctrine or the gun?
My back is already to the wall, where can I run?
The tuxedo that you're wearin', the flower in your lapel,
Ooh, I can't stand it, I can't stand it,
You wanna take me down to hell.

Dead man, dead man,
When will you arise?
Cobwebs in your mind,
Dust upon your eyes."

"Dead Man, Dead Man," from 1981's Shot of Love.

"Ramona, come closer,
Shut softly your watery eyes.
The pangs of your sadness
Shall pass as your senses will rise.
The flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike at times.
And there's no use in tryin'
T' deal with the dyin',
Though I cannot explain that in lines.

Your cracked country lips,
I still wish to kiss,
As to be under the strength of your skin.
Your magnetic movements
Still capture the minutes I'm in.
But it grieves my heart, love,
To see you tryin' to be a part of
A world that just don't exist.
It's all just a dream, babe,
A vacuum, a scheme, babe,
That sucks you into feelin' like this.

I can see that your head
Has been twisted and fed
By worthless foam from the mouth.
I can tell you are torn
Between stayin' and returnin'
On back to the South.
You've been fooled into thinking
That the finishin' end is at hand.
Yet there's no one to beat you,
No one t' defeat you,
'Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.

I've heard you say many times
That you're better 'n no one
And no one is better 'n you.
If you really believe that,
You know you got
Nothing to win and nothing to lose.
From fixtures and forces and friends,
Your sorrow does stem,
That hype you and type you,
Making you feel
That you must be exactly like them.

I'd forever talk to you,
But soon my words,
They would turn into a meaningless ring.
For deep in my heart
I know there is no help I can bring.
Everything passes,
Everything changes,
Just do what you think you should do.
And someday maybe,
Who knows, baby,
I'll come and be cryin' to you."

"To Ramona," from 1964's Another Side of Bob Dylan. A performance from 1965, in London, is below.

This charming little home is of very recent vintage, yet exhibits some fine Craftsman details, delicate brickwork and an ornate roof. It has recently hit the market and is available in move-in ready condition following a foreclosure. Great curb appeal: your neighbors will all want a piece of this property.

"Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest,
They were the best of friends.
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day,
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain,
Sayin', "Take your pick, Frankie Boy,
My loss will be your gain."

Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin,
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him,
His head began to spin.
"Would ya please not stare at me like that," he said,
"It's just my foolish pride,
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide."

Well, Judas, he just winked and said,
"All right, I'll leave you here,
But you'd better hurry up and choose
Which of those bills you want,
Before they all disappear."
"I'm gonna start my pickin' right now,
Just tell me where you'll be."

Judas pointed down the road
And said, "Eternity!"
"Eternity?" said Frankie Lee,
With a voice as cold as ice.
"That's right," said Judas Priest, "Eternity,
Though you might call it 'Paradise.'"

"I don't call it anything,"
Said Frankie Lee with a smile.
"All right," said Judas Priest,
"I'll see you after a while."

Continue reading lyrics at link below...

"The Ballad Of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest," from John Wesley Harding.  A rare performance from 2000, below, or, if you prefer, the original album version.

A particularly fine variation on a type of bungalow form that was very common from about 1900-1920.  I especially like the use of an elegant archway to frame an additional entrance space leading to the front door.  Japanese architecture, which we briefly spoke about a few weeks ago, emphasizes the creation of transitional spaces in between the indoors and outdoors, and this small space helps contribute to such a gradual transition here.  Compare to the 1970 home below, where there is hardly any transition at all besides an uncovered concrete porch, leaving visitors completely exposed to the elements as they wait outside.

"I didn't mean to treat you so bad
You shouldn't take it so personal
I didn't mean to make you so sad
You just happened to be there, that's all
When I saw you say "goodbye" to your friends and smile
I thought that it was well understood
That you'd be comin' back in a little while
I didn't know that you were sayin' "goodbye" for good

But, sooner or later, one of us must know
You just did what you're supposed to do
Sooner or later, one of us must know
That I really did try to get close to you

I couldn't see what you could show me
Your scarf had kept your mouth well hid
I couldn't see how you could know me
But you said you knew me and I believed you did
When you whispered in my ear
And asked me if I was leavin' with you or her
I didn't realize just what I did hear
I didn't realize how young you were

But, sooner or later, one of us must know
You just did what you're supposed to do
Sooner or later, one of us must know
That I really did try to get close to you

I couldn't see when it started snowin'
Your voice was all that I heard
I couldn't see where we were goin'
But you said you knew an' I took your word
And then you told me later, as I apologized
That you were just kiddin' me, you weren't really from the farm
An' I told you, as you clawed out my eyes
That I never really meant to do you any harm

But, sooner or later, one of us must know
You just did what you're supposed to do
Sooner or later, one of us must know
That I really did try to get close to you."

"One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)," from 1966's Blonde on Blonde.  The song was played frequently on the 1978 tour, has been performed only twice since that year (thanks for catching my mistake, Clubbeaux). No live versions are available on Youtube, but someone has kindly uploaded the original album version.

Since we're speaking of global warming today, check out this chart. 

The red line shows the average annual temperature in the northeast United States, while the blue line shows the average number of home runs hit per game in Major League baseball each year (the graphs have been overlaid for convenience of comparison). 

Graphs are science, and the two lines clearly track together: the gradual warming of the first half of the century moving along with the end of the dead-ball era; a slow cooling as home runs declined from the 1950s to the 1970s; then a spike in the late 80's and 90's, with the warmest year all time (1998) the same year that McGwire and Sosa were chasing the home run record.

My conclusion is that while Al Gore is definitely right on about the warming caused by CO2, we also need to do something to cut down on the number of home runs hit if we are going to get this runaway warming under control. Maybe controlling steroid abuse can help.

Regrettably, we heard nothing about this critical subject from the soccer-oriented and baseball-deprived attendees at the UN Bali conference this week. (Related: see our piece on monomania)

It was 78 degrees in Nashville today - an all-time record for the date, and perfect weather for taking a walk outside.  Here's a scene along Belmont Boulevard, the former site of another streetcar line. 

Another one from Nashville, on Blair Boulevard.  Even though this house is one of the few on the rapidly gentrifying street (a 20s era streetcar suburb) that has not been repaired and renovated, its charm and authenticity are undeniable.  For anyone who's thinking about moving to town, this place was just put on the market for $400,000, as is.

This unusual Japanese-styled bungalow comes from the Highlands neighborhood of Birmingham, AL. I have seen a few foursquare houses with roofs designed in a vaguely oriental style in Nashville, but no bungalows with anything close to this level of Asian influence.  Surprisingly, the Japanese styling is a good fit for the quintessentially American bungalow, which shares the traditional Japanese emphasis on asymmetry, overhanging eaves, and exposed beams and rafters.

"To be alone with you
Just you and me
Now won't you tell me true
Ain't that the way it oughta be?
To hold each other tight
The whole night through
Everything is always right
When I'm alone with you.

To be alone with you
At the close of the day
With only you in view
While evening slips away
It only goes to show
That while life's pleasures be few
The only one I know
Is when I'm alone with you.

They say that nighttime is the right time
To be with the one you love
Too many thoughts get in the way in the day
But you're always what I'm thinkin' of
I wish the night were here
Bringin' me all of your charms
When only you are near
To hold me in your arms.

I'll always thank the Lord
When my working day's through
I get my sweet reward
To be alone with you."

"To Be Alone With You," from Nashville Skyline.  Bob growls out a version from a 2002 show - the second to last before he started playing the keyboards - in the Youtube below.

"Stake my future on a hell of a past
Looks like tomorrow is coming on fast
Ain't complaining 'bout what I got
Seen better times, but who has not?

Silvio, silver and gold
Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold
Silvio, I gotta go
Find out something only dead men know

Honest as the next jade rolling that stone
When I come knocking don't throw me no bone
I'm an old boll weevil looking for a home
If you don't like it you can leave me alone

I can snap my fingers and require the rain
From a clear blue sky and turn it off again
I can stroke your body and relieve your pain
And charm the whistle off an evening train

I give what I got until I got no more
I take what I get until I even the score
You know I love you and furthermore
When it's time to go you got an open door

I can tell you fancy, I can tell you plain
You give something up for everything you gain
Since every pleasure's got an edge of pain
Pay for your ticket and don't complain

One of these days and it won't be long
Going down in the valley and sing my song
I will sing it loud and sing it strong
Let the echo decide if I was right or wrong

Silvio, silver and gold
Won't buy back the beat of a heart grown cold
Silvio, I gotta go
Find out something only dead men know."

"Silvio," from 1988's reviled "Down In The Groove."  The album contained only a handful of original Dylan compositions, with this particular song credited as a co-writing effort between Dylan and Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter (though Hunter was responsible for virtually all the lyrics).  Dylan must have liked it, though, since it became a staple of the Neverending tour, appearing in almost every show in the mid-90s.  Performances diminished in frequency by 1998, and the song has only been played on rare occasion since.  The youtube below is from the song's heyday: a summer 1996 performance at the Prince's Trust benefit concert in London.

Another one from the Belmont neighborhood of Nashville.  Who wouldn't want to live in this charming little home?  Look at that front porch - crammed with potted and hanging plants, and with a big white rocking chair just inviting you to sit down with a good book and a tall glass of sweet tea.  And despite its small size, there is great attention to detail in every part of the house, from the windows to the decorative supports for the eaves.  Another quote from the Standard Home Plans catalog from 1926:

"To the wife and children home means infinitely more than to the husband whose duties are elsewhere. To him it is a place for recreation and rest, but to them it is their kingdom. The hearts of many wives will go out to The Bristol, not with selfish designs, but with earnest maternal longings for better conditions for the culture and refinement of their children."

Bird Dog's pictures of downtown New York have gotten me in the mood to post some photos of houses from 'round these parts - the Belmont-Hillsboro neighborhood of Nashville, to be precise.  This 1920s craftsman bungalow is about a good example as any of the style, and looks to have survived without any major changes or alterations (except for the poor decision to paint the stone foundation, and a tasteless iron railing, no doubt added in the 60s).  A 1920s home catalog, advertising a similar type of house, had this to say about the plan:

"Nothing so stimulates and elevates a man as for his life companion to believe in him, and in no other way can a man show his appreciation of such confidence and trust as in the earnest endeavor to build her a home of her own. Any woman who has tact, forethought, and patience with her husband need not despair of owning eventually just such a home. . ."

"Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of you.
You were trying to break into another world
A world I never knew.
I always kind of wondered
If you ever made it through.
Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of you.

Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of me.
If I was still the same
If I ever became what you wanted me to be
Did I miss the mark or
Over-step the line
That only you could see?
Seen a shooting star tonight
And I thought of me.

Listen to the engine, listen to the bell
As the last fire truck from hell
Goes rolling by, all good people are praying,
It's the last temptation
The last account
The last time you might hear the sermon on the mount,
The last radio is playing.

Seen a shooting star tonight
Slip Away.
Tomorrow will be another day.
Guess it's too late to say the things to you
That you needed to hear me say.
Seen a shooting star tonight
Slip away."

"Shooting Star," from 1989's Oh Mercy.  A 1997 performance is below, though some would argue that Dylan's performance of the song from the MTV Unplugged release is the definitive version.

"If your memory serves you well,
We were goin' to meet again and wait,
So I'm goin' to unpack all my things
And sit before it gets too late.
No man alive will come to you
With another tale to tell,
But you know that we shall meet again
If your memory serves you well.
This wheel's on fire,
Rolling down the road,
Best notify my next of kin,
This wheel shall explode!

If your memory serves you well,
I was goin' to confiscate your lace,
And wrap it up in a sailor's knot
And hide it in your case.
If I knew for sure that it was yours
But it was oh so hard to tell.
But you knew that we would meet again,
If your memory serves you well.
This wheel's on fire,
Rolling down the road,
Best notify my next of kin,
This wheel shall explode!

If your memory serves you well,
You'll remember you're the one
That called on me to call on them
To get you your favors done.
And after ev'ry plan had failed
And there was nothing more to tell,
You knew that we would meet again,
If your memory served you well.
This wheel's on fire,
Rolling down the road,
Best notify my next of kin,
This wheel shall explode!

"This Wheel's On Fire," from The Basement Tapes, though perhaps even better known from its release on The Band's debut album Music From Big Pink.  Versions from both are below.

"Look out your window, baby, there's a scene you'd like to catch,
The band is playing "Dixie," a man got his hand outstretched.
Could be the Fuhrer
Could be the local priest.
You know sometimes
Satan comes as a man of peace.

He got a sweet gift of gab, he got a harmonious tongue,
He knows every song of love that ever has been sung.
Good intentions can be evil,
Both hands can be full of grease.
You know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.

Well, first he's in the background, then he's in the front,
Both eyes are looking like they're on a rabbit hunt.
Nobody can see through him,
No, not even the Chief of Police.
You know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.

He's a great humanitarian, he's a great philanthropist,
He knows just where to touch you, honey, and how you like to be kissed.
He'll put both his arms around you,
You can feel the tender touch of the beast.
You know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.

Well, the howling wolf will howl tonight, the king snake will crawl,
Trees that've stood for a thousand years suddenly will fall.
Wanna get married? Do it now,
Tomorrow all activity will cease.
You know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.

Somewhere Mama's weeping for her blue-eyed boy,
She's holding them little white shoes and that little broken toy
And he's following a star,
The same one them three men followed from the East.
I hear that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace."

"Man of Peace," off Infidels.  Dylan has occasionally played this one live, including this performance from Amherst, MA, in 1999.

"If You find it in Your heart, can I be forgiven?
Guess I owe You some kind of apology.
I've escaped death so many times, I know I'm only living
By the saving grace that's over me.

By this time I'd-a thought I would be sleeping
In a pine box for all eternity.
My faith keeps me alive, but I still be weeping
For the saving grace that's over me.

Well, the death of life, then come the resurrection,
Wherever I am welcome is where I'll be.
I put all my confidence in Him, my sole protection
Is the saving grace that's over me.

Well, the devil's shining light, it can be most blinding,
But to search for love, that ain't no more than vanity.
As I look around this world all that I'm finding
Is the saving grace that's over me.

The wicked know no peace and you just can't fake it,
There's only one road and it leads to Calvary.
It gets discouraging at times, but I know I'll make it
By the saving grace that's over me."

"Saving Grace," off Saved.  A performance from the height of Bob's "evangelical period" is below, though Dylan has continued to perform this song and others from Slow Train Coming and Saved up until the present day.