7. Bob Dylan’s life and lyrics. Like a Rolling Stone.

T he songwriter who seems to sound most like a poet is Bob Dylan.

Bob Dylan (born Robert Allen Zimmerman, May 24, 1941) is a Grammy, Golden Globe and Academy Award-winning Jewish-American singer-songwriter, author, musician, and poet who has been a major figure in popular music for five decades. Much of Dylan's most notable work dates from the 1960s, when he became an informal documentarian and reluctant figurehead of American unrest. Some of his songs, such as "Blowin' in the Wind" and "The Times They Are a-Changin'", became anthems of the anti-war and civil rights movements. His most recent studio album, Modern Times, released on August 29, 2006, entered the U.S. album charts at #1, making him, at age 65, the oldest living person to top those charts.

Dylan's early lyrics incorporated politics, social commentary, philosophy and literary influences, defying existing pop music conventions and appealing widely to the counterculture of the time. While expanding and personalizing musical styles, he has shown steadfast devotion to many traditions of American song, from folk and country/blues to rock and roll and rockabilly, to English, Scottish and Irish folk music, even jazz, swing, Broadway, and gospel.

Dylan performs with the guitar, keyboard and harmonica. Backed by a changing lineup of musicians, he has toured steadily since the late 1980s on what has been dubbed the "Never Ending Tour". He has also performed alongside other major artists, such as Willie Nelson, Paul Simon, The Grateful Dead, Tom Petty, Bruce Springsteen, The Rolling Stones, Patti Smith, Jack White, Merle Haggard, Neil Young, Johnny Cash, George Harrison, Ringo Starr and Eric Clapton. Although his contributions as a performer and recording artist have been central to his career, his songwriting is generally held as his highest accomplishment.

Dylan was listed as one of TIME Magazine's 100 most influential people of the 20th century. In 2004, Bob Dylan was ranked #2 in Rolling Stone Magazine's 100 Greatest Artists of All Time, second to The Beatles. He has also been nominated several times for the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Born in Duluth, Minnesota, Bob Dylan was raised there and in Hibbing, Minnesota, on the Mesabi Iron Range northwest of Lake Superior. His grandparents were Jewish immigrants from present-day Turkey and Russia. His parents, Abraham Zimmerman and Beatrice Stone (Beatty), were part of the area's small but close-knit Jewish community. Zimmerman lived in Duluth until age seven. When his father was stricken with polio, the family returned to nearby Hibbing, where Zimmerman spent the rest of his childhood.

Zimmerman spent much of his youth listening to the radio — first to the powerful blues and country stations broadcasting from Shreveport and, later, to early rock and roll. He formed several bands in high school.

Zimmerman enrolled at the University of Minnesota in September 1959 and moved to Minneapolis. His early focus on rock and roll gave way to an interest in American folk music, typically performed with an acoustic guitar.

Dylan quit college at the end of his freshman year. He stayed in Minneapolis, working the folk circuit there with temporary journeys in Denver, Colorado, Madison, Wisconsin, and Chicago, Illinois. In January 1961, he headed for New York City to perform and to visit his ailing musical idol Woody Guthrie in a New Jersey hospital. Guthrie had been a revelation to Dylan and was the biggest influence on his early performances. Dylan would later say of Guthrie's work, "You could listen to his songs and actually learn how to live." In the hospital room, Dylan also met Woody's old road-buddy Ramblin' Jack Elliott visiting Guthrie the day after returning from his trip to Europe. He and Elliott became friends, and much of Guthrie's repertoire was actually channeled through Elliott. Dylan paid tribute to Elliott in Chronicles (2005).

After initially playing mostly in small "basket" clubs for little pay, Dylan gained some public recognition after a positive review in The New York Times by critic Robert Shelton. Shelton's review and word-of-mouth around Greenwich Village led to legendary music business figure John Hammond's signing Dylan to Columbia Records that October. His performances, like those on his first Columbia album Bob Dylan (1962), consisted of familiar folk, blues and gospel material combined with some of his own songs. As Dylan continued to record for Columbia, he recorded more than a dozen songs for Broadside Magazine, a folk music magazine and record label, under the pseudonym Blind Boy Grunt. In August 1962, he went to the Supreme Court building in New York and changed his name to Robert Dylan.

By the time Dylan's next record, The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, was released in 1963, he had begun to make his name as both a singer and a songwriter.

His most famous song of the time, "Blowin' in the Wind", partially derived its melody from the traditional slave song "No More Auction Block", and coupled this to Dylan's lyrics questioning the social and political status quo. The song was widely recorded and became an international hit for Peter, Paul and Mary, setting a precedent for other artists. While Dylan's topical songs solidified his early reputation, Freewheelin' also included a mixture of love songs and jokey, surreal talking blues. Humor was a large part of Dylan's persona, and the range of material on the album impressed many listeners including the Beatles. George Harrison said, "We just played it, just wore it out. The content of the song lyrics and just the attitude — it was incredibly original and wonderful."

The single "Like a Rolling Stone" was a U.S. and UK hit; at over six minutes, it helped to expand the limits of songs played on hit radio. In 2004, Rolling Stone listed it at number one on its list of the 500 greatest songs of all time. Its signature sound — with a full, jangling band and an organ riff — characterized his 1965 album, Highway 61 Revisited. Titled after the road that led from Dylan's native Minnesota to the musical hotbed of New Orleans, the songs passed stylistically through the birthplace of blues, the Mississippi Delta, and referenced any number of blues songs. For example, Mississippi Fred McDowell's "61 Highway". The songs were in the same vein as the hit single, surreal litanies of the grotesque flavored by Mike Bloomfield's blues guitar, a rhythm section and Dylan's obvious enjoyment of the sessions. The closing song, "Desolation Row", is an apocalyptic vision with references to many figures of Western culture.

	I have the audacity to play “Like A Rolling Stone” in my show, just about every night. I did it as a lark, to show off to some of the guys in my band that I knew all the words. But I was immediately struck by the audience response to the song. From six-year-olds to seventy-year-olds — they all know the chorus to that song. I couldn't put it away; every night, it's a unifying thing. I think it's somehow part of the fabric of our culture.
	— Country singer Rodney Crowell, from Greil Marcus’ book Like A Rolling Stone: Bob Dylan at the Crossroads

“Like A Rolling Stone” is not only one of the most popular rock songs of all time, it is also one of those whose appeal is the most mysterious. Whereas it is easy to see how other Dylan songs became anthems for a generation — songs like “Blowin' in the Wind,” “The Times They Are A-Changing” and “Mr. Tambourine Man” — it is harder to see how this song attained such a broad and enthusiastic audience. A song like “Blowin' In The Wind" appealed to the masses by asking a series of pointed moral questions and then explicitly saying that the questions are unanswerable. But the climactic line of this song is itself an unanswerable question, and one with less obvious relevance: “How does it feel ... to be ... like a Rolling Stone?” What on earth was going on here, and why did people get so excited by it?

As we will see, the greatness of the song lies in the intricacy of its working, the way so many parts come together to make a cohesive, compelling and unique whole. The challenge in describing the recording is to look at it piece by piece and yet still be able to put it back together at the end and see it work. Let's take it a step at a time.

A good place to start is in the relationship of the words to the music. A criticism leveled at much of rock, and at Dylan in particular as he began making rock music rather than folk, was that the words were hard to hear. Certainly in much of rock music this was true, and intentional: foreground and background merged, the words and vocals became part of the mix, part of a “wall of sound” in some cases.

But in this recording, that usual criticism does not apply. It is not that the music is not full and loud: organ, piano, electric guitar and bass, drums, and tambourine are all working together, making for a complex musical tapestry. But all this music never overwhelms the vocals. As a matter of fact, they simply form a rich background, with Dylan's vocals clearly in the foreground, every word and nasal intonation clearly etched and standing out in sharp relief from the instruments. This will mean more to us as we come to understand more of the song, but for now let's just take this to mean that the words are important, and need to be understood.

Hey, man, you know, I can't....  I mean I'm just me, you know.  I can't, really, man, I'm just playing the song.  I know — I don't want to scream it, that's all I know — — Bob Dylan, speaking to musicians during the recording sessions for “Like A Rolling Stone”

So with that thought in mind, let's look at the lyrics and see what they have to say. (Note that I've broken the verses into short lines at times to make it easier to see the rhyming scheme — more on this later.)

Once upon a time You dressed so fine, You threw the bums a dime, In your prime, Didn't you? People'd call, Say, “Beware doll, You're bound to fall.” You thought they were all Kiddin' you. You used to laugh about Everybody that was hangin' out. Now you don't talk so loud. Now you don't seem so proud About having to be scrounging for your next meal. How does it feel? How does it feel, To be without a home, Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? You've gone to the finest school All right, Miss Lonely, But you know you only Used to get Juiced in it. And nobody has ever taught you How to live on the street And now you find out You're gonna have to get Used to it. You said you'd never compromise With the mystery tramp, but now you realize He's not selling any alibis, As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes And ask him do you want to Make a deal? How does it feel? How does it feel To be on your own, With no direction home, Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone? You never turned around To see the frowns On the jugglers and the clowns When they all come down And did tricks for you. You never understood That it ain't no good, You shouldn't let Other people get Your kicks for you. You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat, Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat. Ain't it hard when you discover that He really wasn't where it's at, After he took from you everything He could steal? How does it feel? How does it feel, To be on your own, With no direction home, Like a complete unknown, Like a rolling stone? Princess on the steeple And all the pretty people, They're drinkin', thinkin' That they Got it made. Exchanging all Precious gifts, But you'd better Take your diamond ring, you'd better Pawn it, babe. You used to be so amused At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used. Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse. When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose. You're invisible now, you got no secrets To conceal. How does it feel? How does it feel, To be on your own, With no direction home, Like a complete unknown, Like a rolling stone?

At first glance, the song seems to be about class division. The woman addressed by the singer is clearly from the upper class, having gone to the finest schools, consorted with diplomats, and exchanged precious gifts with friends and family. At the other end of the spectrum, we have the “mystery tramp” and “Napoleon in rags.” The dramatic movement in the song, at this level, is simple: some event has caused the woman to fall from grace, to be cast out from the upper social circles, and to have joined the ranks of those who have no material possessions.

There is more going on here, though. The words are also about illusion and understanding, deception and truth. The song repeatedly describes ways in which the woman failed to see what was really going on around her. She never saw the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns, thought that people were joking when they said she was riding for a fall, failed to realize that the diplomat was using her, and so on.

It's worth noting how quickly and deftly Dylan introduces all of this. The first line encapsulates the class issue and tells us of the woman's fall: “Once upon a time, you dressed so fine, threw the bums a dime, in your prime, didn't you?” The second line then tells us how blind the woman was to what was going on around her: “People used to call, say 'Beware, doll, you're bound to fall,' you thought they were all kidding you.”

It is instructional to compare this song to a couple of similar ones written about the same time: “Positively Fourth Street” and “Ballad of a Thin Man”. The former is about someone who claims to be a friend of the singer's, and concludes with the most biting put-down in all of rock: “Yes I wish, that for just one time, you could stand inside my shoes. Then you'd know what a drag it is to see you!” Similarly, the latter talks about someone who is clueless, each chorus ending with the line, “Because something is happening here, but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?”

In all three of these songs, Dylan the singer is directly addressing an individual who has been unaware, unenlightened. What makes “Like A Rolling Stone” different from the other two, and more interesting, is that it is more than just a character sketch, more than just a scathing commentary; in this song, there is dramatic movement: the woman who has been unaware has experienced a fall, and from that experience, has an opportunity to change, to learn, to grow. And, brilliantly, each verse describes one more experience from which the subject might learn, takes the subject to the brink of enlightenment, asks the key questions whose answers would provide resolution, then... stops, begins again, and repeats the process.

Now let's turn next to the structure of the song. Let's start with just the first four mini-lines, as shown above.

Once upon a time You dressed so fine, You threw the bums a dime, In your prime,

The short line length, the fairy-tale opening, the simple words and images, the straightforward aaaa repeating rhyme — all these elements work together to create the feeling of a children's song, of a child's world. “Little miss Muffet / Sat on a Tuffet / Eating her curds and whey” uses similar devices to similar effect, for example. In conjunction with the themes we have discussed, these devices suggest that the woman in our story started her adventure with a certain childish, simplistic approach to life, apparently thinking that everything around her was placed there solely for her own amusement.

But then Dylan does something really interesting. The first extended line, or verse, or whatever we call it — the first sentence, certainly — is not yet finished. The singer pauses, and then tosses off the following question.

Didn't you?

What is this? A fifth line that doesn't rhyme with any of the first four, yet is clearly part of this first sentence. Do you see what Dylan is doing? He is using the very structure of the song to let us know, to let the woman know, that there is more going on, more to the song, and more to life, than this simple children's world. The words are about illusion and reality, deception and truth. But the lines, verses and rhymes are also playing with these same ideas, first making us think that this is a simple children's song, then showing us a larger world of which this childish beginning is no more than a piece.

The next extended line uses the same structure.

People'd call, Say, “Beware doll, You're bound to fall.” You thought they were all Kiddin' you.

But note that, by pairing these two similar verses, and ending that hanging fifth line with the same rhyme in both (the same word, in this case), he is at the same time building a larger structure, a richer pattern. So now we can see that the longer rhyming scheme is aaaab ccccb. Thematically, the effect is in concert with the words: the gradual revelation of a larger, more complex world than the one we started with.

Let's see what comes next.

You used to laugh about Everybody that was hangin' out. Now you don't talk so loud. Now you don't seem so proud About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

This is a different melody now, and a different verse structure. The rhyming pattern is now ddeefg. Again, though, Dylan employs the same device, ending the line/verse/sentence with an unmatched rhyme, leaving us hanging, waiting for closure, wondering how the pattern completes itself.

Now, finally, we hit the chorus.

How does it feel? How does it feel, To be without a home, Like a complete unknown Like a rolling stone?

Do you see what happened there? “How does it feel” is repeated. The first occurrence rhymes with the last line of the preceding verse, “For your next meal,” and also rhymes with the second “How does it feel”. So we end up with a 5-line chorus, with the last three lines rhyming, finally leaving us with no unfinished business, no unrhymed lines. The whole, intricate pattern, one line dovetailing with the next, has now been revealed. And it is nothing like what we started with, nothing like a simple children's song. Look at the whole rhyming scheme: aaaab ccccb ddeefg gghhh.

And so, of course, having just created one of the most interesting, powerful and unusual verse/chorus structures in all of rock, Dylan proceeds to get maximum value for it: he repeats it three more times, with different words, all reinforcing and building on the same story, the same themes, his only variation being minor deviations from the strict aaaa rhyming scheme of the first two lines.