Having just turned 83, Bob Dylan remains as relevant as ever. On one hand, the generation that grew up listening to him and his iconic, inimitable voice continues to stay the loyal listeners they have always been. And, on the other hand, the population of his younger listeners, ones who’ve just hopped on to the bandwagon, continues to swell at a heady pace, a phenomenon aided by the recent surge in pop culture interest in Dylan and his life – Timothee Chalamet playing a young Bob Dylan in the latter’s to-be-released biopic ‘A Complete Unknown’ is an irresistible prospect, and the James Mangold directorial is bound to bring even more younger listeners to the Dylan loyalists club.
Out of all of Dylan’s albums, perhaps the one that resonates with me the most is his 1964 release Another Side of Bob Dylan. On the first listen, it really is not the kind of music that paints the walls of your ears with glitter; one could argue that none of Dylan’s pieces truly do that. However, even Dylan’s most ardent loyalists would confess that purely in terms of music, they would pick other albums to listen to over Another Side of Bob Dylan. So, what makes this album so special?
World music has probably never seen a musical figure as enigmatic as Dylan. He didn’t have the most melodious voice. Neither does his music qualify as the most technical or sound. Then what makes him the towering legend that he is today? What fetched him the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature? It is the songwriting. That is what makes him so rated – he altered the course of songwriting, forever. The effect of Dylan on American songwriting is probably hard to decipher right now. But think of it this way – whatever we saw the likes of Tom Waits, Bruce Springsteen, and the dozens of others that followed them do, was built on the foundations that Dylan laid.
When I think of the term “classic”, I’m immediately taken back to what was probably my first encounter with the word – cricket commentary. “Classic Tendulkar shot”. “Virat’s Perth classic”. “Dravid has dished out a classic here at Lord’s”. For the cricket-mad kid that I was, the term began to be deciphered as something that is novel, evergreen, timeless and one for the ages to come. As I grew older and my world expanded beyond sport, my concept of “classic” began to undergo a metamorphosis. Apart from being something that has never been done before, and something that will be part of drawing room and academic discussions alike for years to come, a classic also serves as something that shows us a way to do a certain thing. With elan. With panache. Almost a trend setter, but not readily available for mass-replication. You must earn the right to be able to produce with the same template.
As a singer-songwriter, Dylan did just that. He created the template that musicians after him built their careers on. Of course, the right to use his template is something that is not very attainable for most of us; yet as American songwriting since Dylan first emerged shows, being able to use his template is something that many a young musician yearns for.
One could argue, and successfully so, that any Dylan song should be considered a classic. I believe so, too, especially when it comes to the ones from his heyday. However, here I would like to base my argument only on one song from the album mentioned above – All I really want to do.
Another Side of Bob Dylan is viewed by many as Dylan’s attempt to shed of the image of a protest singer, an image that had become attached to him post his initial years as a singer-songwriter in New York City, when most of his songs exhibited a strong disdain for a lot of what was going on in Cold War America. This was a move that did not please too many from amongst his faithful, and in the years to come, it even got him labelled judas.
However, in his inimitable style, Dylan stuck to his guns, unfazed. As the music world was about to find out, Dylan would only be what he himself really wanted to be. Nothing more, and nothing less. And nothing encapsulates this thought better than the first song, All I Really Want to Do.
In the song, Dylan does not want to love you – you cannot conceive such a situation, but he really does not. He wants to merely be friends with you. At his disarming best, Dylan wants to show the world that there is more to his dealings with women than just being romantically interested. Yes, it may be tough for him to break out of the shackles of the image he had previously built for himself, but he pleads innocence. In certain circles, the song is also interpreted as Dylan’s message to the swathes of fans who wanted to become, for the lack of a better word, his disciples, almost.
In addressing both these audiences, Dylan employs one of the most brilliant examples of songwriting one might get to see.
“I ain’t lookin’ to compete with you
Beat or cheat or mistreat you
Simplify you, classify you
Deny, defy or crucify you
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you”
The first stanza alone really gives you a glimpse of the level of songwriting we are talking about here. To begin with, the vocabulary. It is simply exquisite. Unparalleled in songwriting then, and even now. And, they are not complex words, and neither is it a case of very sophisticated deployment of them. It is just an incredible marriage of so many different ideas, which, surprisingly, works. It all comes together to further Dylan’s point. The disarming Dylan comes beautifully to the fore at the end of the stanza (the same lines are repeated at the end of every stanza of the song) and provides a lovely final stroke to seal things off.
A personal favourite of mine is the third stanza, which goes:
“I ain’t lookin’ to block you up
Shock or knock or lock you up
Analyze you, categorize you
Finalize you or advertise you
All I really want to do
Is, baby, be friends with you”
The marriage of ideas that I earlier spoke about has been elevated to an altogether different level here. Most writers would not even dare to think, let alone compose, in this manner. Dylan did it at a stage in his career when he could have easily not have done it, played it safe, and he would still be adored. Genius.
In my mind, this song is a classic. It is something that had not been seen or heard before. We all know it has withstood the test of time and continues to be adored by lovers of songwriting across eras. And, most importantly in my definition of a classic, it has given the world a new template in songwriting; a template oozing dexterity in one’s craft. It is a different matter, however, that not many have been able to earn the right to replicate this template.