Dylan started his musical odyssey in 1959 when he began playing in Dinkytown, Minneapolis while attending the University of Minnesota. Shortly after starting to play he changed his stage name to Bob Dylan, after being influenced by the poetry of Dylan Thomas before legally changing his name in 1962.
Much of his best known work is from the 1960s, when he became an informal documentarian and reluctant figurehead of American unrest, promoted by Joan Baez. 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, with Joan Baez and Dylan singing together at the March on Washington in 1963. However he later became disenchanted with the civil liberty protest scene, feeling that he had been used by them.
His album Bringing It All Back Home marked a move away from the folk scene and a move towards rock and roll and Dylan began to consciously distance himself from his early association with civil rights. He also started to become irritated when being interviewed, often given facetious or irreverent answers to questions. Bringing It All Back Home was a controversial album as it the first on which he played electric guitar. This was seen by some of his fans as a betrayal of this folk roots, with some saying that it obscured his meaningful and poetic lyrics.
The second half of the 1960s was marked by a string of well received releases, with his song "Like a Rolling Stone", released in July of 1965, later being named "The Greatest Song of All Time" by Rolling Stone magazine in 2004, placing #1 in a list of 500 titles. It also marked the formation of Dylan's backing band The Hawks (who would later call themselves simply The Band). Dylan embarked on a world tour of Australia and Europe in 1966, during which he seemed to be under a lot of strain and pressure by both his fans, the music press and his own promoters. Dylan himself admitted that he began taking drugs seriously whilst on this tour, and found it immensely hard work. On returning to New York he crashed his motorbike, sustaining serious injuries in the process, and went into a period of withdrawal while he recuperated. During the late 1960s, Dylan again changed stylistic tradition, moving away from the psychedelic culture of the time. It was then that he recorded All Along the Watchtower, perhaps more famously recorded by Jimi Hendrix.
The 1970s were a period during which Dylan was more sporadic in his output, releasing some poorly received LPs. He rarely appeared in person until 1974, when he began touring again with his backing band The Band. He also wrote one of his most extensively covered songs, Knockin' On Heaven's Door, as well as what is now recognised as one of his best albums Blood On The Tracks. Towards the end of the 1970s, Dylan discovered Christ, and released some albums of gospel music. He started to talk to the crowd about his faith during his performances, and wouldn't play any of his early work, which alienated some of his previous fans.
Dylan today still remains an influential and popular artist; despite a period of little note between 1980-2000, his 2006 album Modern Times reached the US chart at #1, as did his 2009 album Together Through Life, in the US, Britain, France and several other countries. His 2012 album Tempest was also critically acclaimed. Since 1988, Dylan has been on the so-called Never Ending Tour, during which his performances have provoked controversy, with some critics claiming that his lyrics have become incomprehensible, an experience which is not helped by his tendency to change his set-list and vocals almost every performance.
Bob Dylan's strong influence over the past few years is becoming even more prominent amongst a growing group of younger emerging artists such as George Ellias and Devendra Banhart. 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, Dylan has shown steadfast devotion to traditions of American song, from folk and country/blues to rock and roll and rockabilly, to Gaelic balladry, even jazz, swing and Broadway.
Dylan performs with the guitar, keyboard and harmonica. Backed by a changing lineup of musicians, he has toured steadily since the late 1980s. He has also recently performed alongside other iconic artists, such as Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell, Tom Petty 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.
Nobel Prize for Literature (2016) - On October 13, 2016, Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature for “for having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition”. The prestigious award has been given annually since 1901 and previous Nobel Laureates for Literature include Harold Pinter and Samuel Beckett. Here is the speech written by Dylan, although unable to attend:
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/10/arts/bob-dylan-nobel-prize-acceptance-speech.html?_r=0
Bob Dylan- Hurricane
Bob Dylan Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
That's where most of the folk songs come from nowadays
This, this is a song, this wasn't written up there
This was written somewhere down in the United States
Well, the Lone Ranger and Tonto
They are ridin' down the line
Fixin' everybody's troubles
Someone musta told them that I was doin' fine
Oh, you five and ten cent women
With nothin' in your heads
I got a real gal I'm lovin'
And Lord, I'll love her 'til I'm dead
Go away from my door and my window, too
Right now
Lord, I ain't goin' down to no race track
See no sports car run
I don't have no sports car
And I don't even care to have one
I can walk anytime around the block
Well, the wind keeps a-blowin' me
Up and down the street
With my hat in my hand
And my boots on my feet
Watch out so you don't step on me
Well, look it here buddy
You want to be like me?
Pull out your six-shooter
And rob every bank you can see
Tell the judge I said it was all right
Yes
Bob Dylan's Blues is a song by Bob Dylan that is written in a conversational style where the singer talks about his own songwriting process and the state of popular music at the time. The song opens with Dylan expressing his disdain for popular music that is churned out from Tin Pan Alley, a district in New York City that was known for publishing sheet music in the early 20th century. Dylan asserts that his song is different from those and that it was written somewhere in the United States, rather than in Tin Pan Alley.
The song then moves quickly to a description of the Lone Ranger and Tonto, who are popular comic book and radio characters in the United States. Dylan muses that they are always fixing everybody's troubles except his own. He then addresses the "five and ten cent women" or the superficial women with nothing in their heads, and proclaims that he has a genuine and true love that he will love until he is dead. He implores the women to go away from his door and window.
The song then moves on to Dylan's personal preferences and interests, where he asserts that he does go down to the race track to see sports cars run as he doesn’t have any to care about. He then describes the wind that keeps blowing him up and down the street with a hat in his hand and boots on his feet, cautioning others to be careful not to step on him. Finally, he shares a sarcastic piece of advice with his listener, asking them to pull out their six-shooter and rob every bank they can see, and to tell the judge that he said it was all right.
Line by Line Meaning
Unlike most of the songs nowadays that have been written up in Tin Pan Alley
Most of the current folk songs are composed in Tin Pan Alley. But this song is not like the others out there.
That's where most of the folk songs come from nowadays
This is just stating the fact that the majority of the folk songs these days are written in Tin Pan Alley.
This, this is a song, this wasn't written up there
This song was not composed in Tin Pan Alley, it came from somewhere else in the United States.
This was written somewhere down in the United States
This song was composed in some unknown place in the United States, away from Tin Pan Alley.
Well, the Lone Ranger and Tonto
The writer refers to the popular radio and television characters, Lone Ranger and Tonto.
They are ridin' down the line
Lone Ranger and Tonto are riding down the path.
Fixin' everybody's troubles
They are riding around and helping everyone who needs help.
Everybody's except mine
They are busy helping everyone else, but they haven't helped the writer yet.
Someone musta told them that I was doin' fine
The writer assumes that someone might have told Lone Ranger and Tonto that he's doing fine, hence they aren't helping him.
Oh, you five and ten cent women
The writer is addressing the women who spend their time window shopping around the stores.
With nothin' in your heads
The women are window shopping around the stores without any goal in their heads.
I got a real gal I'm lovin'
The writer has a genuine girlfriend who he loves.
And Lord, I'll love her 'til I'm dead
He swears that his love for his girlfriend is real and it will last till he dies.
Go away from my door and my window, too
The writer tells the women to leave him alone and stop window shopping around his house.
Right now
He is commanding these women to leave immediately.
Lord, I ain't goin' down to no race track
The writer won't go to the race track to watch cars racing around.
See no sports car run
He won't see any sports car running at a race track because he won't go there in the first place.
I don't have no sports car
The writer does not have any sports car himself.
And I don't even care to have one
Furthermore, he is saying that he does not care about having a sports car as well.
I can walk anytime around the block
Walking around the block is enough for him, he doesn't need any fancy cars or racing.
Well, the wind keeps a-blowin' me
The wind is blowing around the writer continuously.
Up and down the street
The wind is blowing the writer up and down the street, without any particular direction.
With my hat in my hand
The writer is holding his hat in his hand, probably because the wind might blow it off his head.
And my boots on my feet
He's wearing his boots, hence the writer must be outside on the street.
Watch out so you don't step on me
He requests people to be careful and not step over him, probably because he feels small and vulnerable.
Well, look it here buddy
The writer is addressing someone closely, probably a friend.
You want to be like me?
He's asking that person if he wants to be like him.
Pull out your six-shooter
He suggests that the person should draw his gun.
And rob every bank you can see
The writer is being sarcastic and telling that person to rob every bank they can see, even though it's not the right thing to do.
Tell the judge I said it was all right
He orders that person to tell the judge that the writer said it was alright to rob banks.
Yes
He solidifies that order with a single word, ending the song abruptly.
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: Bob Dylan
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@lausymaus9856
Full Lyrics :
Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
She sees a bartender in a pool of blood
Cries out my God, they killed them all
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously
I didn't do it, he says, and he throws up his hands
I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand
I saw them leavin', he says, and he stops
One of us had better call up the cops
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New Jersey night
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that
In Paterson that's just the way things go
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you want to draw the heat
Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
He said, I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
Cop said, wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him that he could identify the guilty men
Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in
They took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
Says, wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!
Here's the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
Four months later, the ghettos are in flame
Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame
Remember that murder that happened in a bar
Remember you said you saw the getaway car
You think you'd like to play ball with the law
Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night
Don't forget that you are white
Arthur Dexter Bradley said I'm really not sure
The cops said a poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello
You don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow
You'll be doin' society a favor
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim
Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse
All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger
And though they could not produce the gun
The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed
Rubin Carter was falsely tried
The crime was murder one, guess who testified
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
Where justice is a game
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell
That's the story of the Hurricane
But it won't be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he's done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
@theloniouscoltrane3778
"Hurricane"
Pistols shots ring out in the bar room night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood
Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For something that he never done
Put him in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
Three bodies lying there does Patty see
And another man named Bello moving around mysteriously
"I didn't do it", he says and he throws up his hands,
"I was only robbing the register. I hope you understand.
"I saw them leaving," he says and he stops,
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene
With their red lights flashing
In the hot New Jersey night.
Meanwhile far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are driving around
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that
In Patterson that's just the way things go
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you wanna draw the heat.
Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowling around
He said, "I saw two men running out. They looked like middleweights.
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead."
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him he could identify the guilty men.
Four in the morning and they haul Rubin in
They took him to the hospital and they brought him upstairs
The wounded man looks up through his one dying eye
Says, "Why'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!"
Here's the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For something that he never done
Put in a prison cell but one time he could-a been the champion of the world.
Four months later the ghettos are in flame
Rubin's in South America fighting for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops are putting the screws to him looking for somebody to blame
"Remember that murder that you happened in a bar?
Remember you said you saw the getaway car?
You think you'd like to play ball with the law?
Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw running that night?
Don't forget that you are white".
Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure."
The cop said, "A boy like you could use a break.
We got you for the motel job and we're talking to your friend Bello.
Now you don't wanna have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You'll be doing society a favor.
That son of a bitch is brave and getting braver.
We want to put his ass in stir.
We want to pin this triple murder on him.
He ain't no Gentleman Jim."
Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much
"It's my work," he'd say, "and I do it for pay.
And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise.
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice.
And ride a horse along a trail."
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.
All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus. He never had a chance
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger
And though they could not produce the gun
The DA said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed.
Rubin Carter was falsely tried
The crime was murder 'one'. Guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers—they all went along for the ride
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed
To live in a land
Where justice is a game.
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell
Yes, that's the story of the Hurricane
But it won't be over 'til they clear his name
And give him back the time he's done
Put in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
@prajwal5222
Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood
Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously
"I didn't do it, " he says, and he throws up his hands
"I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand
I saw them leavin', " he says, and he stops
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New Jersey night
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that
In Paterson that's just the way things go
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you want to draw the heat
Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
He said, "I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head
Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead"
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him that he could identify the guilty men
Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in
Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
Says, "Wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!"
Yes, here's the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
Four months later, the ghettos are in flame
Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame
"Remember that murder that happened in a bar?"
"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"
"You think you'd like to play ball with the law?"
"Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?"
"Don't forget that you are white."
Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure."
Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello
Now you don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow
You'll be doin' society a favor
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim."
Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse
All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger
And though they could not produce the gun
The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed
Rubin Carter was falsely tried
The crime was murder "one, " guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
Where justice is a game
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell
That's the story of the Hurricane
But it won't be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he's done
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world
@cheriepeden7745
To discover Bob Dylan before you die is one of the advantages of being alive.
@buds4dubs573
Facts.. Shit I just did.
@user1138
Amen! I didn't truly discover Dylan until my late 30's.
@jcgrof
I discovered Dylan in 1975, at 14 years old.
@BAaKeD15
Or seeing him live, he may of been old, but damn that man is a legend!! No rAgrets, not even a single letter.
@swamifakkananda4043
Or bijelo dugme!!!
@PeppyOoze
I’m 88 years old and I have never listened to Dylan before... I am so glad to have experienced this man’s genius before I die.
@VaughanMcCue
Welcome aboard. You have discovered the fountain of youth. Happy New EARs for you. Throw away the walking cane...
@mirarose2670
💓🙌🏻
@turboturtle5575
Peppy - don't stop ...!!!! ENJOY every day & everything !!