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Bob Dylan -- Eephus's Reviews From Walking With His Beloved Dog Bosley During 2019: The Nobel Poet And A Fine Essayist With A Musical Corpus (2 Viewers)

Per Eephus's first "e.g." and other suggestions, I just bought Another Side Of Bob Dylan on MoFi at a discount at the local record shop. Loving it. Sounds great...lovely pressing, lovely sound. Sounds great even on a sort of low-budget system, comparatively. 

Enjoying the heck out of it.
When I think of this album, I picture Dylan standing on a diving board waiting to jump.

 
Per Eephus's first "e.g." and other suggestions, I just bought Another Side Of Bob Dylan on MoFi at a discount at the local record shop. Loving it. Sounds great...lovely pressing, lovely sound. Sounds great even on a sort of low-budget system, comparatively. 

Enjoying the heck out of it.
Nice and it’s one of his lesser albums from that period which puts into perspective how hot he was before the bike crash.

 
Holy ####, the Sinatra album w/ "Why Try To Change Me Now" on it is just fantastic.  I don't think I've ever listened to it before.

No One Cares
Not sure what this has to do with Dylan and I know RA isn’t a crooner fan but yeah this is a great album. Sinatra called suicide music but I love his dark stuff.

 
Nice and it’s one of his lesser albums from that period which puts into perspective how hot he was before the bike crash.
Yeah, when I mentioned it yesterday I was thinking of Bringing It All Back Home :bag: .

It's amazing that he released The Times They Are A-Changin and Another Side eight months apart. 

 
Not sure what this has to do with Dylan and I know RA isn’t a crooner fan but yeah this is a great album. Sinatra called suicide music but I love his dark stuff.
I have to laugh. I am not a crooner guy but enough people I respect seem to dig it, so I temper my opinion accordingly. 

 
Not sure what this has to do with Dylan and I know RA isn’t a crooner fan but yeah this is a great album. Sinatra called suicide music but I love his dark stuff.
I didn't think my big Dylan sings Sinatra post would get buried on the bottom of the page

 
I didn't think my big Dylan sings Sinatra post would get buried on the bottom of the page
I hate when that happens. I read your Dylan singing Sinatra post, though. It didn't disappear into the ether -- it was a cool post. I had forgotten/blacked out that you had tattoos that would mark you as a Flipper fan. That now sounds vaguely familiar. 

 
Gordon Jenkins' arrangements are perfect
Incredible. I need to learn more about this Gordon Jenkins guy.

Yeah, when I mentioned it yesterday I was thinking of Bringing It All Back Home :bag: .

It's amazing that he released The Times They Are A-Changin and Another Side eight months apart. 
BIABH was the other album I considered suggesting so I do think it should be high on any list of Dylan collections. 

I have to laugh. I am not a crooner guy but enough people I respect seem to dig it, so I temper my opinion accordingly. 
Yeah I try now not to #### on any music except prog rock because music is so personal and diverse. 

 
Gordon Jenkins' arrangements are perfect
The arrangements on the Dylan Sinatra album are very nice.  He's backed by a small rock ensemble with some occasional brass.  Donnie Heron's pedal steel takes the place of the strings.  It's all very lovely and understated.  

 
I hate when that happens. I read your Dylan singing Sinatra post, though. It didn't disappear into the ether -- it was a cool post. I had forgotten/blacked out that you had tattoos that would mark you as a Flipper fan. That now sounds vaguely familiar. 
It's unusual for me to get into two conversations with strangers.  I always have my earphones in but I'll take one out if Boz meets another dog.  There are a few regular dog people that I'll always chat with but we didn't see any tonight.

 
Yeah, when I mentioned it yesterday I was thinking of Bringing It All Back Home :bag: .

It's amazing that he released The Times They Are A-Changin and Another Side eight months apart. 
That's the one that's sort of been really standing out to me. Bringing It All Back Home, that is.

It is amazing that he released Times and Another Side within eight months of each other. And Another Side couldn't have come too far after Freewheelin', either. Pretty remarkable run, all of it. 

 
Oh yeah. Great vibs to rise and shine to. 👍

That song write up is amazing - honestly - I need to read it again - a few times.

 Great morning! 😎
Gentlemen, he said/i don't need your organization/i've shined your shoes/i've moved your mountains/and marked your cards/but Eden is burning/either brace yourself for elimination/or else your hearts/must have the courage/for the changing of the Guards...

i contend that no matter what one's thoughts on religion are, this tune is a "bring ya to your knees" proclamation- the "Word", as it were, was powerful enough to convert Mr. Zimmerman, and this tune fleshes that chapter of his amazing journey out so damn perfectly.  yeah, i am a believer, and Bob stirs such evocative emotions with this one. 

Wow. And a lyrical breakdown. That's pretty darn cool, otb. 
grazie, Rock  :thumbup:

and a very GOOD MORNING to both you fine gents - and to all else who visit this lil' corner of the innerwebz.

 
I need to watch that movie again. I remember being actually turned off by some of the characters, but I have friends that really like it, so I'll check it out again when it's on. 
all hail the sagacity of the bolded ... Rock nailed it  :thumbup:

 
all hail the sagacity of the bolded ... Rock nailed it  :thumbup:
Thanks, man. I should temper that with saying that my distaste was probably due to the main plot device -- Cusack's reduction of his loves to mix tapes, as if everything moved through the lens of music lists, while Jack Black's character I could understand, but still kind of annoyed me. I get the passion of curating pop culture, but something about making it paramount in one's life strikes me as sad, especially when delivered in a haughty and judgmental way. His (Black's) character gets a bit humane in parts, but not enough to fully sympathize.

I get it, though. There's only so much fleshing out a H'Wood movie can do for a character like that to make him fully realized rather than a caricature or archetype, and the plot device, all things considered, is actually a great way to integrate Cusack's two passions into a coherent theme and point to the movie. I think it was the dispassionate list quality that got to me. I could have watched a ten-hour movie if the interludes about why the music and women were important to him was delved into more. The problem is that -- and the movie makes this its point, I think -- his passion for the women never really supersedes his passion for the music, and the end, IIRC, doesn't really change that. I'm thinking I might be wrong about this, though. Does he ever have to make the choice that we need to see him make to be fully realized?  

I digress. Back to Dylan. Tee hee. 

 
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1) Interesting. I think art should be thought of in terms of its desired effect on the listener according to the artist/actual effect on the listener
Cool. Now, this is something that I love discussing about music and all art.

I don't know if your Bob thread is the place for it - and I don't have time now - but, I promise I will find a way to continue this discussion.

:thumbup:
Ok, I want to ask a question before I try to make any assertions.

You were the one that explained the idea of "Spotlighting" to me and how it is used here at FBG. Can you explain it to me one more time? And, why do you think spotlighting is a faux pas?

 
Ok, I want to ask a question before I try to make any assertions.

You were the one that explained the idea of "Spotlighting" to me and how it is used here at FBG. Can you explain it to me one more time? And, why do you think spotlighting is a faux pas?
Yeah, it's only during drafts. That's because spotlighting jogs memories and can affect what people select and all that. It's like yelling out "Adam Thielen hasn't been selected" at a fantasy football draft two years ago.

 
Yeah, it's only during drafts. That's because spotlighting jogs memories and can affect what people select and all that. It's like yelling out "Adam Thielen hasn't been selected" at a fantasy football draft two years ago.
Thanks. That will help me begin.

OK, we agree on the most important parts in my opinion - memories are jogged in the process & the jogging of memories can affect a person's actions.

Now, I will throw out a theory on why people do not like that.

1) People do not want to feel like they are being influenced into a draft pick. They want to make their own decision.

2) Even if the spotlight does not actually influence the pick; they may feel frustrated that it could appear that way.

3) Once the "source" of their selection (choice vs. influence) comes into question, it can feel like something "personal" has been taken away from the pick. It may make the pick seem less authentic.

That something "personal" is what I consider art. It is the deep down connection - the resonance that the listener has with the music. It is not that a person "hears" music - we "feel" music. It resonates with us and affects our mood. Who has not felt this when listening to a favorite piece of music?

Therefore, I believe that when a spotlight happens, a person feels like their own personal and special connection has been severed - in a way.

Does this jive with your view?

I'm not set in stone - actually, I am kind of free wheeling. What do you think?

 
Does this jive with your view?
Yeah, it does. Sure. I'd say all three things you list come into play. There's also a utile function to it. It serves as a prophylactic to help ensure that those with broader bases of knowledge or memory reap the spoils of that knowledge or recall.

Really, when it comes to music drafts, it's really just part of the game's rules and traditions, likely influenced more by the three personal connection issues you listed than the impulse I acknowledged. You want to feel a part of what you selected, as if you were inspired somehow to do it by the music itself, as if you had that connection to it, as you point out.

As far as what art is, I've never been able to really get at it in a logical way. I think pure logic misses the mark, as does irrational relativism or even the transcendent. I sort of just shrug at some point. 

 
Yeah, it does. Sure. I'd say all three things you list come into play. There's also a utile function to it. It serves as a prophylactic to help ensure that those with broader bases of knowledge or memory reap the spoils of that knowledge or recall.
Ooo - good addition. I agree 100%. I think it is a most useful function whenever there is a competition in place.

Which leads to this: do you believe competition exits in art? And if so, do you believe that it should?

Personally, I do believe that competition occurs in art. In fact, I believe that some of the greatest art ever made was in direct response to other art. So, I acknowledge this form of competition. I think it should be in art.

However, is their a competition between observers over which art best resonates with their own subjective experience?

If there is, should there be?

Personally, I am still pondering this part.

Really, when it comes to music drafts, it's really just part of the game's rules and traditions, likely influenced more by the three personal connection issues you listed than the impulse I acknowledged. You want to feel a part of what you selected, as if you were inspired somehow to do it by the music itself, as if you had that connection to it, as you point out.
Cool. We knocked this out. Agreed.

As far as what art is, I've never been able to really get at it in a logical way. I think pure logic misses the mark, as does irrational relativism or even the transcendent. I sort of just shrug at some point. 
I sooo agree with the bold. I believe that art - at its most basic level - is not logical.

Further, if it were, it would no longer be art. Sure, there are plenty of "logical works" that have art flowing throughout, but - imo - that flow is an illogical subtle element that the observer resonates with - in their unconscious mind (not logical). It is the feel of the work, not the concrete elements of the work.

I think this is what you are saying too. Am I correct?

 
When I think of this album, I picture Dylan standing on a diving board waiting to jump.
I meant to comment on this earlier, but - is this because of the album cover itself, or is it something about the music?

Or, is it just a mental image from nowhere?

These kinds of things fascinate me.
Another Side was Dylan's last acoustic record before plugging in.  He recorded Bringing It All Back Home a half year later with a band and amplified instruments. 

The progression seems perfectly natural in retrospect but it was very controversial at the time.  I don't know if he was thinking about going electric at the time of the earlier record but there are some songs (e.g. My Back Pages, It Ain't Me Babe) that seem to me are pushing the envelope of what one guy with a guitar could accomplish.

 
Another Side was Dylan's last acoustic record before plugging in.  He recorded Bringing It All Back Home a half year later with a band and amplified instruments. 

The progression seems perfectly natural in retrospect but it was very controversial at the time.  I don't know if he was thinking about going electric at the time of the earlier record but there are some songs (e.g. My Back Pages, It Ain't Me Babe) that seem to me are pushing the envelope of what one guy with a guitar could accomplish.
Ah ... I get it now.

I like the imagery. 

Thnx.

 
That’s funny because in college we used to joke that if Morrison was still alive he’d likely be a Vegas lounge singer belting out “Touch Me” in a jumpsuit.
i can see this, though i'd imagine his act more as a cross between Nick Rails and Jake LaMotta - running horrible shtick and pathetic standup in between drunken Rimbaud ramblings - i would be so IN. 

 
i can see this, though i'd imagine his act more as a cross between Nick Rails and Jake LaMotta - running horrible shtick and pathetic standup in between drunken Rimbaud ramblings - i would be so IN. 
In an attempt to practice my right brain art viewing - I just did a google and randomly picked something using as little conscious thought as possible. I have not even read the poem yet. I just clicked a link and copied the text.

So Vanna - what did our contestant win?   (Note - that song I have not listened to either - I just thought - "Vanna" - ok)

I will listen to the song and read the poem after I post.  hmmmmm  Good luck, otb.

The Drunken Boat

BY ARTHUR RIMBAUD

TRANSLATED BY WALLACE FOWLIE

As I was going down impassive Rivers,

I no longer felt myself guided by haulers:

Yelping redskins had taken them as targets

And had nailed them naked to colored stakes.

 

I was indifferent to all crews,

The bearer of Flemish wheat or English cottons

When with my haulers this uproar stopped

The Rivers let me go where I wanted.

 

Into the furious lashing of the tides

More heedless than children's brains the other winter

I ran! And loosened Peninsulas

Have not undergone a more triumphant hubbub

 

The storm blessed my sea vigils

Lighter than a cork I danced on the waves

That are called eternal rollers of victims,

Ten nights, without missing the stupid eye of the lighthouses!

 

Sweeter than the flesh of hard apples is to children

The green water penetrated my hull of fir

And washed me of spots of blue wine

And vomit, scattering rudder and grappling-hook

 

And from then on I bathed in the Poem

Of the Sea, infused with stars and lactescent,

Devouring the azure verses; where, like a pale elated

Piece of flotsam, a pensive drowned figure sometimes sinks;

 

Where, suddenly dyeing the blueness, delirium

And slow rhythms under the streaking of daylight,

Stronger than alcohol, vaster than our lyres,

The bitter redness of love ferments!

 

I know the skies bursting with lightning, and the waterspouts

And the surf and the currents; I know the evening,

And dawn as exalted as a flock of doves

And at times I have seen what man thought he saw!

 

I have seen the low sun spotted with mystic horrors,

Lighting up, with long violet clots,

Resembling actors of very ancient dramas,

The waves rolling far off their quivering of shutters!

 

I have dreamed of the green night with dazzled snows

A kiss slowly rising to the eyes of the sea,

The circulation of unknown saps,

And the yellow and blue awakening of singing phosphorous!

 

I followed during pregnant months the swell,

Like hysterical cows, in its assault on the reefs,

Without dreaming that the luminous feet of the Marys

Could constrain the snout of the wheezing Oceans!

 

I struck against, you know, unbelievable Floridas

Mingling with flowers panthers' eyes and human

Skin! Rainbows stretched like bridal reins

Under the horizon of the seas to greenish herds!

 

I have seen enormous swamps ferment, fish-traps

Where a whole Leviathan rots in the rushes!

Avalanches of water in the midst of a calm,

And the distances cataracting toward the abyss!

 

Glaciers, suns of silver, nacreous waves, skies of embers!

Hideous strands at the end of brown gulfs

Where giant serpents devoured by bedbugs

Fall down from gnarled trees with black scent!

 

I should have liked to show children those sunfish

Of the blue wave, the fish of gold, the singing fish.

—Foam of flowers rocked my drifting

And ineffable winds winged me at times.

 

At times a martyr weary of poles and zones,

The sea, whose sob created my gentle roll,

Brought up to me her dark flowers with yellow suckers

And I remained, like a woman on her knees...

 

Resembling an island tossing on my sides the quarrels

And droppings of noisy birds with yellow eyes

And I sailed on, when through my fragile ropes

Drowned men sank backward to sleep!

 

Now I, a boat lost in the foliage of caves,

Thrown by the storm into the birdless air

I whose water-drunk carcass would not have been rescued

By the Monitors and the Hanseatic sailboats;

 

Free, smoking, topped with violet fog,

I who pierced the reddening sky like a wall,

Bearing, delicious jam for good poets

Lichens of sunlight and mucus of azure,

 

Who ran, spotted with small electric moons,

A wild plank, escorted by black seahorses,

When Julys beat down with blows of cudgels

The ultramarine skies with burning funnels;

 

I, who trembled, hearing at fifty leagues off

The moaning of the Behemoths in heat and the thick Maelstroms,

Eternal spinner of the blue immobility

I miss Europe with its ancient parapets!

 

I have seen sidereal archipelagos! and islands

Whose delirious skies are open to the sea-wanderer:

—Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep and exile yourself,

Million golden birds, o future Vigor? –

 

But, in truth, I have wept too much! Dawns are heartbreaking.

Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.

Acrid love has swollen me with intoxicating torpor

O let my keel burst! O let me go into the sea!

 

If I want a water of Europe, it is the black

Cold puddle where in the sweet-smelling twilight

A squatting child full of sadness releases

A boat as fragile as a May butterfly.

 

No longer can I, bathed in your languor, o waves,

Follow in the wake of the cotton boats,

Nor cross through the pride of flags and flames,

Nor swim under the terrible eyes of prison ships.
 
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