Transcription: Bob Dylan's lyrics are timeless, timely
By Laer Pierce, opinion page assistant
In the Dec. 6 Rolling Stone columnist Ralph J. Gleason some interesting parallels between Bob Dylan’s tour and the sad state of the Union.
“Dylan’s songs and the pressures he generated,” Gleason wrote, “had more to do with creating a society in which it was possible for Nixon to thoroughly fuck up and be caught at it and threatened with impeachment, than politicos are likely to believe.”
Gleason theorized that Dylan decided to tour in reaction to Watergate, that he was motivated by politics and not money. He believes Dylan is a prophet reappearing to his people in their time of need.
On Sunday Dylan proved that the meaning of his words has not faded because we’re talking about Watergate today instead of civil rights; because we’re questioning the financing of Nixon’s homes, not calling to bring the boys home.
People in Bloomington, like people in every other city Dylan has toured, cheered and stomped through “it’s Alright Ma, I’m Only Bleedin’,” which has proved to be the most timeless of Dylan’s political songs.
When the song was written in 1965, it seemed that President Johnson would never “have to stand naked.” But by 1968 the times had changed and LBJ decided not to run again. The war wasn’t over, unfortunately, but one pillar had fallen.
Now the audiences across the country go wild at the thought of President Nixon standing naked before the judging eye of the world.
The other words of the song hit as well: “Money doesn’t talk, it swears/propaganda all is phony.” Lines like that could make Ehrlichman and Haldeman shiver in their legal briefs.
But there was another aspect that hit me as I listened to Dylan’s songs, something that made me feel uncomfortable. In the middle of “Blowin’ in the Wind,” the song that got Dylan started (and got a whole movement started as well), I was grabbed from behind and out of the way as police hauled a young man away.
Safety has no records or arrests at the concert, so his offense was only enough to get him manhandled, not booked. But seeing him hauled off made me think of a warning “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” a song Dylan did not sing Sunday: “Look out kid, it’s something ya did/ God knows when but you’re doin’ it again.”
God knows the times haven’t changed completely. The government can spend $21,000 to buy drugs, they can spend much more on salaries and living expenses for three agents and can afford overtime pay for 100 police and narcotics agents so they can pull of an Elliot Ness-style raid.
The haul was forty pounds of marijuana an as yet unspecified amount of cocaine, assorted pills, the futures of about sixty mostly small-time dealers and a truck load of publicity for the police.
Complete support of the dealers is difficult. They knew the risk they were taking and their high prices and profits over the years have reflected this risk.
But it is easy to sympathize with them. Seeing the dealers pitched against a government operation so expensive and professional (but largely ineffective in stopping “drug abuse” in Bloomington) makes a person realize the power of Big Brother and his willingness to use that power at very personal levels.
Times are changing, but don’t be deceived. It is still very necessary to remember Dylan’s words: “Keep a clean nose/watch for plain-clothes/you don’t need a weatherman/to know which way the wind blows.”
