Let's destroy Dylan...

May 24th – As a hangover from a chat I was having last night with a very precious friend it could be, for the second time, we hear the cry from the audience of, “Judas!” It bothers me nowt though ‘cos y’know, I've never been a Dylan fan (that’s Bob not Thomas) who was born this day in 1941 (that’s Bob not Thomas, again).

Not a fan back then, not now…there’s an admission. Feel I should qualify that a little by saying that there is some of his stuff that’s timeless and very prescient not only to the time when the various albums were written/released but also to today, but I can remember conversations with my contemporaries back in the 60’s in a little place called ‘The Rendezvous Café’ in Shirley (place not woman) near Brum where I was looked on askance when I said these things (yup, even back then I’d made the decision about Mr. Zimmerman). See, I always had the feeling he was not quite the real-deal; that he was somehow riding on the coattails of greater talent…much like Donovan. Woody Guthrie is the genre performer that springs to mind immediately; and would it be unfair of me to put up Phil Ochs as a Mr. Dylan contemporary who, IMHO and in many ways, said it better? Discuss…or stone me.

Maybe it was the US equivalent of the English cloth-cap image Dylan pedalled that didn't sit comfortably with me; I know, I know, all been said before but it doesn't make it any the less relevant and it also might make what follows slightly incongruent.

You all know that I’m a pretty sad individual where music and musicology are concerned. I dissect, I criticise, and ponder and become affected, for better or worse, by the stuff that goes on in the industry, but then, I could be out mugging squirrels or terrorising hedgehogs so, be grateful for that. I, no doubt like some of you…(and if you've not then I can highly recommend it to while away a rainy afternoon BUT you have to do it properly and be VERY strict about the criteria) I've put together my own Desert Island Discs (DID); you know, choose eight pieces of music that you would be happy to find on a desert island; only eight. Did it about fifteen or so years ago in the mistaken belief that one day I’d become a famous author and get the invite; good job I didn't hold my breath. Each year, since compiling that original list, I sort of revisit and update it. That’s because new stuff always comes up and can, on occasions, put other formerly selected songs out of the top eight. This has happened a couple or three times over the past few years (Jesus…see what I mean? I’m writing this stuff as though it’s important, f’ goodness sakes…!) Anyway, whatever, I have to say the core six songs have remained the same, and one of those core songs is, lo and behold, courtesy of Mr. Dylan (nee Zimmerman). Written by him in ‘62’ and released as part of the The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan album, the track, Masters of War is as near as dammit is to swearing the perfect anti-war song. Full of bile and straight-talking to within an inch of its life it is the quintessential protest song. Mr. Dylan’s rendition is pretty damn good but that’s as close as I get to holding musical hands with the guy that most everyone else thinks is a god. You see it’s inclusion on my DID list does not allow for his worthy effort. This Masters of War is sung by someone else I've not got much truck with…however, it gets worse.

I’m driving along in a van, on tour with a show going from somewhere to somewhere. I usually listen to Radio 4 most of the time and certainly when I’m in a vehicle, but I think on this occasion I’d switched to Radio Two (probably because that gobby idiot, Clive Anderson, was on with Loose Ends; more like ‘The Clive Anderson Show with Guest Appearances by…’) I can’t remember the Radio Two show I locked onto but suffice to say it was an ‘in conversation’ piece and the subject was Julie Felix… Now I don’t know ‘bout you, but I always considered her very lightweight in the music biz in general but more particularly in the folk idiom. We’re All Going to the Zoo Tomorrow? Remember that one? Me too. So, wearing my customary derision face, I was listening to this programme of chat and music for about twenty minutes when the interviewer said;

“Now, Julie, you’re going to play something live for us; what have you chosen to play?”

‘Oh, great,’ I thought,’ just what we need, JF and We’re All Going to the Zoo Tomorrow. There was the ominous sound of a guitar being picked up and our Julie said;

“Yes. I’m going to play a Bob Dylan song called…? Yup, you got it… ‘Masters of War”.

‘Oh, my,’ I thought, ‘this should be interesting…’

And away she went. 

It’s not often that it happens but I had to pull the van over and park, so good was her rendition; I mean truly astounding, left me breathless unable to do anything else but concentrate on her astounding, electrifying delivery, particularly not be in charge of six tons of speeding metal.

I've searched the net (this was about six or so years ago) but have not been able to find the programme or a copy of her performance, but I am willing to say something I never thought I’d say in all my years of music listening; I have a Julie Felix performance on my DID list and it’s been there, immovable, for the past six-plus years.