On May 17, 1966, in Manchester, England, Bob Dylan played his most infamous show. The day prior, he released Blonde on Blonde, his second purely electric album amid his tour in Europe. Dylan had been at odds with his folk audience, as the folk star had become a rock star with his previous album Highway 61 Revisited and its hit “Like a Rolling Stone.” However, the restless crowd stirred once Bob Dylan began to play his rock opus, culminating when one frustrated fan shouted and gave Dylan his most infamous title: “Judas.” 1
The frustrated anonymous fan represented a sect of Dylan fans who felt betrayed by his shift toward electric rock music. Dylan’s fans grew hostile ever since he tuned his guitar at the Newport Folk Festival. There was a disconnect, however, between what they heard and the meaning behind the songs. The folk purists felt betrayed by Dylan’s new sound but were too outraged to notice how, despite the new rock style, the same Dylan wrote and performed the ballads. What did change was Dylan’s outward appearance from folk singer to rock star, and the different ways he used his voice, dramatic characters, and mystery. The fanatics failed to understand that this was not a new Dylan or a betrayal of his folk roots, but rather Dylan showing an exterior sign of an evolution that would result in many of his masterpieces, cementing his legacy as one of the all-time greatest musicians.
Bob Dylan’s first four albums contain folk style protest songs and love ballads, created at a time when Dylan was a driving force in both the folk and rock ’n roll scenes. Dylan stuck close to his folk roots, sprinkling his ballads with healthy portions of harmonica and keeping his music free from the influence of the electric guitar and rock. Although Dylan’s eventual shift toward rock would change his music, several fundamental elements of his music were preserved. His raspy voice, use of dramatic characters, and mystery are the three elements of Dylan’s music that would remain constant. An early Dylan ballad is led by the acoustic guitar-harmonica partnership, while Dylan’s rock music would showcase the electric guitar, the drums, and the organ. Narratively, his folk ballads were sung from the perspective of the desolate narrator who would lament his lost love. On his electric albums, Dylan would tap into the heavier sound to create spiteful ballads, insulting his lost love. Put simply, his acoustic sets weep like a sad lover at a bar, while his electric sets scream with endless rock-fueled anger. While these shifts produced radically different products, the same three elements remain.
In order to understand Dylan’s consistency throughout his career, it is necessary to analyze his different types of music and use of his motifs. Bob Dylan sings ballads, which the Poetry Foundation defines as narratives that are “anonymous and recount tragic, comic, or heroic stories with emphasis on a central dramatic event.”2 Dylan’s ballads are rooted heavily in the folk musical tradition, using the folk conventions of mythological themes, rhetorical devices, over-the-top characters, and melodrama. Dylan’s electric music would change and evolve, but he never strayed from his ballad roots. Across his career, Dylan preserves his raspy voice, use of archetypal characters, and sense of intense mystery, no matter what guitar he held in his hand. These elements are most clear in the shift between Ano7ther Side of Bob Dylan and Highway 61 Revisited. These two albums stand at the end of his folk career and the first rebirth of his career as a rock star, as these were the last acoustic album and first electric album respectively, with Bringing it All Back Home standing as a fusion between these styles. In this way, these two albums serve as a perfect lens through which to view these two sides of Bob Dylan.
The most obvious element of Dylan’s style is his unique voice. Although Dylan’s singing voice is often criticized for being bad or too nasal, Dylan claims he is as good as Enrico Caruso, the famous opera singer.3 The imperfections of Bob Dylan’s voice give the listener a chance to immerse themselves in his authenticity and thoughtful poetry. In contrast, Paul McCartney has a more refined voice that he flaunts on songs like “Yesterday” or “Maybe I’m Amazed.” McCartney uses his refined voice to explore the depths and heights of love, but Dylan often uses his unrefined voice to focus on the difficulties and heartbreak of love. While McCartney’s rock ’n’ roll roots focus on the grandeur of love, Dylan’s folk roots lead him to focus on the complex narrative of love. The best example of this emotional richness is found on “All I Really Want to Do,” when he pushes his voice to the height of its register by dragging out the word “do.” In this way, Dylan almost embarrasses himself by stretching his voice to unusually high levels. When his voice finally breaks, Dylan’s laughter gives a sense of authenticity, breaking through the often perfect production to tap into real emotion.
A second critical element of Dylan’s music is the extensive use of archetypal characters and tropes. A Dylan ballad contains dramatic characters, which are often cultural tropes and the medium by which the drama proceeds. Dylan spends little time characterizing them, instead focusing on one characteristic or action of the character. The largely nameless or nicknamed characters are often one dimensional, as Dylan sacrifices characterization for drama. A favorite character on his early albums is the persona of “my baby” or, simply, “babe.” He injects drama and creativity by focusing on the sparse details of her character. For example, in “Down the Highway,” the listener is presented with the image of “babe” packing her bags to leave, which contrasts with the nomadic lifestyle of the narrator. He writes “Yes, I’m walkin’ down the highway/ With my suitcase in my hand/ Lord, I really miss my baby/ She’s in some far-off land.” 4 Dylan gives a vivid image of the lonely narrator with nothing but his suitcase to accompany him and a tumbleweed to keep him company as he travels across the Great Plains.5
The third element of a Dylan ballad is mystery. Dylan always stumps his listeners, forcing them to ask a question or ponder the hidden meaning. “All Along the Watchtower,” for example, has remained tantalizingly mysterious, even fifty years after its writing. The song begins with a conversation between the joker and the thief, with the joker wondering if he can escape from his undefined situation. He laments how “Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth/ None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.”6 Failing to give an explanation, Dylan’s thief responds that there is “‘No reason to get excited,’ the thief, he kindly spoke/ ‘There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke/ But you and I, we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate/ So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.’” The thief comforts the joker, reminding him that while others take life as a joke, they need not suffer with that challenge.7 The thief quickly closes the book on this issue, since it is too late to worry about such things. Dylan moves onward from their conversation, and the listener, like a bird, looks down on the scene: “All along the watchtower, princes kept the view/ While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too/ Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl/ Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.”8 In search of meaning, Christopher Ricks describes the ballad as a “scorpion song that stings itself to death, rounding fiercely on itself.”9 In particular, Ricks refers to the song’s music, which creates a loop, bringing the end of the song back to the beginning. Dylan’s biting and mysterious lyrics never give the listener a chance to digest them, but cycle endlessly.
Early Life: “The country I come from/ Is called the Midwest”
Robert Allan Zimmerman was born in Duluth, Michigan on May 24, 1941.10 His Jewish family found a home in the relatively large Jewish community, where he found friends and companions. The young Zimmerman also grew up in the 1950s culture, admiring James Dean and Little Richard. In 1956, he first played the piano and was known for stomping on the pedals, occasionally breaking them.11 A year later, Robert Zimmerman would learn to play the guitar, playing with his cousin on the weekends. He also joined, and led, his first bands: Golden Chords and Satin Tones.12 After graduating from high school, he briefly attended the University of Minnesota, where he was exposed to Woody Guthrie and began introducing himself as Bob Dylan.13
Woody Guthrie was a major influence on the modern folk music genre. He would earn immortality during the Second World War, as he supported the war effort by brandishing his guitar, which read “This machine kills fascists.”14 One of his most popular anti-fascist songs is “Tear the Fascists Down,” which demonstrates Guthrie’s belief that the world must come together in order to rid the world of the Nazis. In many ways, Guthrie was ahead of his time, as he wrote about a united world coming together to reject a force of evil: “Hitler told the world around he would tear our union down/ But our union's gonna break them slavery chains/ Our union’s gonna break them slavery chains.” Rather than to appeal to the nation as a whole, he appealed to the masses, encouraging them to see the vision of a world coming together: “I could see all the people in this whole wide world/ That's the union that'll tear the fascists down, down, down.”15 Despite the outward appearance of jingoism, music historian David Hajdu asserts that Guthrie’s wartime music was motivated more by his hatred of fascism than blind patriotism during a war.16
In 1961, Dylan arrived in New York City. A twenty-year-old Dylan became a staple of New York bars and coffee shops, earning the attention of studio managers and of Guthrie himself. Dylan split his time between playing in the city, recording his first albums, and helping take care of his ill hero. By the time Dylan began to record, he had solidified his anti-war beliefs, which would earn him fame, just like his idol. While Guthrie’s music represented the determination of many Americans to end the Nazi regime, Dylan represented his generation’s belief that Vietnam did not deserve the same urgency. He penned some of his strongest anti-war songs, such as “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “Talkin’ World War III Blues,” asserting this generational change.
“Masters of War” was his venomous assault on the military industrial complex and an urge for war. He confronts the titular Masters, who have “never done nothin’/ But build to destroy.” 17 When Woody Guthrie sang about the ships in the sky bringing freedom to a darkened Europe, Dylan and his generation realized that the “death planes” were no longer bringing freedom.18 He finally characterizes the Masters as “Judas of old/ You lie and deceive/ A world war can be won/ You want me to believe.” 19 Guthrie had characterized the soldiers of the World War as liberators, but Dylan and his generation recast the troops as Christ, who is murdered without rhyme or reason. The blood of modern Christ in arms waters the mud, but there is no forgiveness for the Masters: “Even Jesus would never/ Forgive what you do.” 20
Following the nation’s growing perception of Dylan as a folk and protest singer, he would produce his third album in late 1963, titled The Times They Are A-Changin. Building off of Freewheelin, Dylan expanded his anti-war catalog, including the titular track and another hallmark protest song: “With God on Our Side.” Much like “Masters of War,” “With God on Our Side” taps into a religious pathos. Describing his Midwest heritage, Dylan sings:
Is called the Midwest
I’s taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that the land that I live in
Has God on its side. 21
Dylan repeats what he has learned, reflecting on the brutality of the Manifest Destiny narrative, but, using his nationalist persona, asserts that God was on our side, even when committing mass genocide and slaughter. Chillingly, the persona sings about Nazi Germany:
When the Second World War/ Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.22
Dylan’s message is clear: might makes right. After discussing the Cold War, the persona follows in line with the jingoist propaganda: “And you never ask questions/ When God’s on your side.” 23 His most forceful verse strikes deep at the heart of war and the theology it creates:
Through many dark hour
I’ve been thinkin’ about this
That Jesus Christ/ Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can’t think for you
You’ll have to decide Whether Judas Iscariot/ Had God on his side. 24
Not even the divine are free from the power struggle, with the hungry jingoism devouring whatever it can.
“Masters of War” and “With God on Our Side” both allude to Judas Iscariot in reference to war. These ballads summarize Dylan’s early protest songs and hint at the folk genre Dylan pioneered. In “Masters” Dylan equates the greedy Masters with Judas because they both sold human beings for thirty pieces of silver. Going back to the Old Testament, thirty pieces of silver is the price an owner would receive as compensation when his slave would be maimed by a bull.25 While it may or may not have been intentional, this reading assumes that the Masters own the young American boys as personal property, through the draft, in order to make money, either by forced labor or compensation at their death.26 In comparison to the Judas portrayed in “Masters,” “With God on Our Side” uses Judas as a thought experiment. In reviewing the pro-war lie that God is on the side of the winner, Dylan questions whether Judas had God on his side.27 Dylan parallels Judas with the United States military in its quest for global power and prominence. Just as in “Masters,” Dylan characterizes the Indians and the victims of the Holocaust as Christ-like figures who are tossed away by those who find religious justification for murder. More than political commentary, these two ballads represent Dylan’s style in his early career. Dylan’s use of drama heightens the simple ballads to religious proportions, and his use of mythological characterizations, presented with his raspy voice, are a hallmark of the folk style. While his detractors would, in turn, call him Judas, Dylan himself would evolve into the rock style, not betraying the world, like the Masters or the American war system. Dylan always remained true.
Acoustic: Another Side of Bob Dylan
On Another Side of Bob Dylan and Highway 61 Revisited, Bob Dylan uses his ballads to explore his chaotic love life and the establishment culture he disdains. Dylan wrestles with love in “Ballad in Plain D,” and he questions the establishment in “My Back Pages.” On his first electric album, Highway 61 Revisited, Bob Dylan explores a more complex love life in “Like a Rolling Stone” while exploring the establishment in “Ballad of a Thin Man.” By focusing on how each subject, his love or the establishment, is treated across the electric gulf, Bob Dylan’s ballad is stretched and brought to its limits. While he would experiment with his instruments, tone, and temperament, Dylan remains fundamentally consistent.
Although “Ballad in Plain D” and “My Back Pages” deal with differing themes, they draw on the same folk roots and contain the signature marks of a Dylan ballad. In addition to the three elements of voice, archetypal characters, and mystery, a Dylan folk ballad also contains the desolate narrator and the guitar-harmonica partnership. The typical ballad has Dylan express sadness and regret at the state of the world or his love life, leading to the desolate feeling of loneliness. Paired with the acoustic guitar, Dylan uses the harmonica as a second vocal instrument, a tool to add to the tone and meaning of a song. For example, in “Girl from the North Country,” the ballad ends with the desolate lover singing about his lost love before the harmonica gives a sad lament. The harmonica is reminiscent of the cold wind that brought the titular girl to wear her heavy coat, and of the cold wind that drives him away.28 While Dylan often uses this musical partnership, he will also sacrifice the use of the harmonica to create a similar effect. For example, “Boots of Spanish Leather” contains little harmonica, using instead the lonely acoustic guitar to express desolation. The steady repetition of the guitar takes the role of the sea splashing onto the shore, as Dylan stares across the waves, eager to try and recover his lost love, although he now only hopes for a material reminder of his love, “Spanish boots of Spanish leather.”29 With his signature folk instruments, Dylan is able to complement his voice and thoughtfully crafted lyrics to create a ballad that is more than the sum of its parts.
“Ballad in Plain D” is an example of how Dylan uses the desolate lover to explore the richness and drama of a failed romance. With a quiet voice, Dylan takes on the persona of the desolate lover, as his love leaves in the wake of a fight with her family. As a perfect and pure lover stolen away by her sister and mother, she is characterized as a fairy tale character, much like Cinderella. Just as in the fairy tale, she is taken advantage of before her lover comes onto the scene, with Dylan describing her as a “scapegoat” who is broken down “By the jealousy of others around her.” 30 Dylan reduces the characters to their fairy tale tropes before shifting tone to describe the failed romance. In this way, the drama is the primary aspect of the ballad, and there is no need for complexity or specificity. Rather, the drama itself is the medium for the singer to weep and reflect.
While these tropes are tools to prepare for more important reflections on drama, this ballad demonstrates how Dylan uses tropes to serve the narrative functions. In the beginning of the ballad, Dylan introduces the sister, calling her a “parasite” who is “Bound by her boredom, her pride to protect” and who uses her sister as a “crutch” to reinforce herself.31 The tension between the two, the sister and lover, rises as the star-crossed love is tested with “silhouette anger to manufactured peace.”32 Finally, “At the peak of the night, the king and the queen/ Tumbled all down into pieces.” 33 The chess game between the forces breaks down, with both sides abandoning the pretense of peace. Dylan dons the armor of stubbornness as he resists the sister, their screams shaking the walls of the house. The lover, hitting her breaking point, leaves him. In the somber reflection, Dylan uses his unique voice and animated harmonica to express his desolated state.34
Dylan uses his voice to share the emotional richness of the persona’s soul as his heart breaks, just like the plaster of the wall. In this ballad, he never dramatically shifts in his register, even when the sister demands, “Leave her alone, God damn you, get out!”35 A different balladeer might raise their voice to express the sister’s fury, but Dylan keeps his voice at the same tempo and pitch as the rest of the song. Instead of intense anger, the soft tone adds to the feeling of indifference and loneliness. Sandwiched with the lonely wind of the harmonica, a favorite technique of his, Dylan underscores the current state of the lover, imprisoned by love.36
In “Plain D,” Dylan personalizes the ballad by simplifying the characters in the ballad. For example, he characterizes his love in simple terms, such as a “lamb,” “scapegoat,” or a “child.” 37 By describing his lover in submissive roles, he characterizes her as the victim of her cruel family, who take advantage of her kind and gentle ways. The simplicity of the ballad and its characters allows the listener to inject themselves into the plot, framing his vile in-laws as the villains of the star crossed romance. As a result, this mystery of the drama allows the song to be heard as it might in a bar, where lonely hearts can commiserate.
While “Ballad in Plain D” focuses on the loneliness of romance, “My Back Pages” deals with the loneliness of one’s place in society. In particular, the drama of this ballad rests on the trappings of the establishment and tradition. Embodying his younger self, Dylan rejects the easy stories and belief system that his older self was caught in. Unique among Dylan ballads, “My Back Pages” lacks an extensive harmonica solo, but it remains an example of the Dylan style because it uses the acoustic guitar as the workhorse for the same effect of loneliness. As a result, the harmonica and acoustic guitar serve the purpose of expressing an emotion, but the particular instruments are subservient to the message itself.38 The impact of the ballad rests upon the regret and isolation of the narrator, Dylan himself. Regret is the core of the ballad, when he sings, “Ah, but I was so much older then/ I’m younger than that now.” 39 While many claim that the young are often filled with naivety, Dylan asserts that older generations can be fooled, and believe “Lies that life is black and white.” 40 His controlled voice, paired with the desolate acoustic guitar, endows the ballad with loneliness as the mystery of common archetypes gives the ballad its core meaning.
Typically, Dylan ballads directly assault the establishment; however, the protest ballads “My Back Pages” and “Blowin’ in the Wind” undermine the establishment by striking at its foundations. “My Back Pages” prompts the listener to question the value of established tradition and societal frameworks. Going further, Dylan seeks not to criticize particular institutions, such as religion, the press, or the government, but rather to question ways of thinking. He is not attacking the establishment itself but criticizes the ease at which older generations cling to the lies and stories they grew up believing. Dylan encourages a revolutionary of new thoughts and ideas.41
Bob Dylan, throughout the 1960s, would be considered the “voice of a generation,” a title he adamantly rejects.42 It is impossible for one person to truly embody a generation, especially the young baby boomer generation that was at a chaotic turning point in American history. When Dylan sang anti-war ballads or sang about the lonely hearts millions have, it was tempting for Americans to pin all their musical aspirations on him. Bob Dylan never sought to portray himself as the leader of the counterculture, but listeners proclaimed him as their leader nonetheless. Bob Dylan had found a way into Americans’ hearts, but this personal connection would lead to unfairly high expectations. It was his listeners who let themselves down, not Dylan.
Electric: Highway 61 Revisited
The Manchester “Judas” concert would go down as his most explosive concert, but Bob Dylan should have been comfortable with such a negative reception. A year earlier, he had performed at the Newport Folk Festival, which was supposed to be a folk experience only. Dylan, however, quickly broke out his electric guitar and rock band. The traditional narrative is that the folk audience was so outraged by the electric music that they automatically began to boo. This narrative fails to understand the deep complexity of the festival. To start, the audience was already frustrated by the poor sound controls which were allegedly sabotaged by Pete Seeger, according to the dramatic accounts of the festival. When Dylan attempted to play “Like a Rolling Stone,” the sound was still unacceptable, which led him to grab his acoustic guitar to try to salvage the event. He sang “Mr. Tambourine Man” as a clumsy conclusion to his set and spent the rest of the festival mulling over the events. Jonathan Taplin, an eyewitness to the scene, asserts he even saw Dylan cry in response.43 Clinton Heylin, in reference to the Festival, states that:
Dylan had made an essentially selfish statement intended to create artistic elbow room, and cannot be held accountable for its more unfortunate consequences (i.e., self-absorbed singer-songwriters… He [Dylan] is quite correct when he reiterates that folk music can never die. Nevertheless his actions, and his alone, put it on a life support machine. It was a renunciation for which he soon felt a need to atone. 44
Despite the disaster at the Newport Festival, Bob Dylan would continue to reinvent himself by going electric with his groundbreaking “Like a Rolling Stone.” Over time, Dylan felt less of a need to atone for that wrongdoing but rather continued to pursue electric rock, much to the chagrin of the folk purists. Dylan combined his elements of mystery, character tropes, and his unrefined voice but expressed himself with rock elements, such as secondary instruments, like the electric guitar and drums, and the anger and spite of classic rock. “Like a Rolling Stone” is the gold standard of this new style, but Dylan follows up his opus with many rock ballads on Highway 61 Revisited. In particular, “Ballad of a Thin Man” would take over where “Rolling Stone” left off, with Dylan lashing out at his establishment demons. His folk style music embraced the harmonica and the desolate lover, but the new brand of Dylan ballads replaced them with copious amounts of secondary instrumentation to fuel the lover’s newfound spite.
Filling his ballads with fantastic imagery and archetypal figures, Dylan stretched the ballad to its limits, as he embraced the unclean rock style complete with the electric guitar. To the folk traditionalist, Dylan shamefully sold away the most conventional elements of the folk tradition, such as the acoustic guitar and reflective mystery. Folk doctrine demands that a ballad should be instrumentally sparse so that the singer can create a personal connection with the listener. Folk purists bemoaned Dylan’s introduction of the organ, drums, and electric guitar. Bob Dylan also changed the spirit of his lyrics, moving from the desolate lover to the spiteful lover. When singing from the perspective of the desolate lover, Dylan channels his pain into somber reflection and regret. However, the electric Dylan’s spite drives the persona into a deep rage to mask his pain. While Dylan, as exemplified by his “Ballad in Plain D,” used archetypal characters and relied on tropes to create complexity, “Like a Rolling Stone” weaponized tropes and exaggeration against Miss Lonely. Finally, Dylan deploys his voice in a higher pitch with sharper enunciations to put the final touch on the new style. By substituting rock elements for classic folk elements, Dylan upends the folk style, creating a rock song with the shattered soul of a folk ballad—now on sale for thirty pieces of silver, and rock immortality.
In order to create the spiteful narrative, Dylan banished the harmonica and acoustic guitar from the spotlight, embracing the organ, drums, and, worst of all, electric guitar. This change was personally insulting to purists because they tied their identity to Dylan as a folk hero, which Dylan himself never accepted. By collecting a chorus of new instruments and carefully joining them with some of his most classic elements, he creates a complete song that works perfectly in conjunction. Although his lyrics deserve the spotlight, the collage of instruments behind the words tells a critical story, one that captures the attention of the listener. The soaring organ, courtesy of Al Kooper, leads the charge, flying high above the ensemble and bestowing a magical quality upon the entire track. Most important to the drama, “Like a Rolling Stone” starts with the knocking of a door with a drum kick, which brings the audience into a fantasy world, one where the archetypal and fantastic characters of the ballad can live and tell their stories. Bruce Springsteen reflects that on his first listening: “we were listening to, I think, WMCA, and on came that snare shot that sounded like somebody kicked open the door to your mind.”45 The listener can not help but enter into the fantasy and there is no greater clue to this imagination with the first words of the track, which hearkens back to childhood stories: “Once upon a time.”46
The ballad’s biting impact rests upon the spiteful fury of the narrator, who describes the gilded lifestyle of Miss Lonely. Dylan relies upon asking rhetorical questions to add impact to his critiques. For example, he begins the song by contextualizing Miss Lonely in time, as he sings, “Once upon a time you dressed so fine/ You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn’t you?”47 Dylan characterizes her by asking her about her own actions, in this case tossing a dime to the unfortunate, as he asserts that she deserves the same dime, tossed with indifference and apathy. He masters this technique in the chorus, where he spitefully asks her, “How does it feel/ To be without a home/ Like a complete unknown/ Like a rolling stone?”48 By asking this question, he implicates her in her own fall from grace and, by inserting the stinging question at the end of every verse, reminds her of her fallen state. 49
Dylan constructs each verse to set up the impact of the chorus, the question of “How does it feel?” Dylan allows the verse to pack a punch of its own by giving context for Miss Lonely’s new life. Beginning with the opening verse, he describes the initial fall from grace in the context of her immature and naive invincibility fallacy. She imagines her uplifted social state as permanent and unchangeable, and she loses her confidence, arrogance, and pride when she falls. As a tragic figure, she ignores the wisdom of others around her, as her hubris is unable to comprehend the possibility of change. Dylan then skips ahead to the aftermath, portraying Miss Lonely in the unfortunate position of the scavenger. The impact of this verse is reinforced by the chorus, as Dylan asks her how it feels to be a social nomad. He resettles her in the place that she used to look down on and spitefully asks her “How does it feel?”50
Dylan continues to express catharsis on the second verse, as he describes Miss Lonely in her new life on the street. Since she was so used to being pampered and adored, she is unable to adjust to her new way of life. This brings her to dealing with the mystery tramp, an unwelcome business partner who she must come to terms with. When times were good, she would never stoop to make these deals, but the tramp now receives her business with cold eyes. Instead of asking her a question, Dylan makes her ask a question to the tramp: “do you want to make a deal?”51 He does not need to ask her any more questions, since now she is the one who will desperately be asking them.
Dylan creates an imaginary world with archetypal characters. The best example comes in the form of Miss Lonely herself, who remains stiff and flat, despite her previous negative character trajectory. However, this fall from grace is notably absent, and there is no indication of what precisely occurred. The listener learns nothing about who she is, besides her notable former state, and who the narrator himself is. The ballad exists in an imagined universe where the narrator’s spite drives the creation of the mythical world. One of the strongest examples comes in the third verse, where Dylan imagines “the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns/ When they all come down and did tricks for you.” 52 While she commands the plebes around her to play roles for her entertainment, she fails to understand their resentment of her. This point is driven home by the second part of the verse, which describes her diplomat. Just as she misunderstands the intentions of the jugglers and clowns, she is unable to understand that the diplomat tricks her, using her status and stripping her bare, just like the nudity of his Siamese cat.
Miss Lonely, in the final verse, finds her place away from the society she grew up in. Her new companion is “Napoleon in rags.” 53 Napoleon found himself on St. Helena, thousands of miles from France and Josephine, just as Miss Lonely suffers the same fate, as she is socially exiled from her old companions. While their old companions enjoy the high life, Miss Lonely and Napoleon wither away on some isolated rock. Miss Lonely, as the titular “Rolling Stone,” finds herself defined: “The Oxford English Dictionary says of [rolling stone] the proverb that it is ‘used to imply that a man who restlessly roams from place to place, or constantly changes his employment will never grow rich. Hence, in slang or allusive use, moss … means money.’” 54 Stephen Leacock asserts that Miss Lonely, as the rolling stone, may earn a living, but her time is limited. 55 Ricks refers to Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress” and Herrick’s “To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time,” asserting she must “Gather ye moss, while ye may.” 56 While she may recover some of her former life, her youth is slipping all too quickly away.
Bob Dylan made his name with his brutal critiques of the establishment culture, which is summarized by another ballad on Highway 61 Revisited: “Ballad of a Thin Man.” This ballad parallels “Like a Rolling Stone,” focusing on a fallen figure of the establishment, Mr. Jones, as opposed to Miss Lonely, a failed love. Jones is a newspaper writer who is out of touch with the world, as he looks only to make money. The origins of “Ballad of a Thin Man” are painfully obvious in terms of a broader approach, as Dylan characterizes “Mr. Jones” as the myriad journalists and other writers who irked Dylan with their misunderstanding of his music and himself. Mr. Jones represents the establishment as a whole, as opposed to someone in particular. Harnessing his spite and annoyance, Bob Dylan crafted a skillful rebuke of the establishment, complete with his signature elements, paired with the dark undertones of the organ, representing the boiling over of his rage.
There may not be a single Mr. Jones, but Horace Judson, a writer for Time, can serve as a stand-in. In a famous interview, Dylan accuses “Mr. Jones,” and the greater journalism machine, of using musicians as a way to make easy money in their papers.57 Dylan skillfully outmaneuvers Judson and focuses on a few core themes. First, he takes aim at the media as a whole, which focuses on meaningless facts, as opposed to critical ideas and situations. The readers of Time read bite-sized facts, but never focus on a deeper level. After this initial exposition, Dylan asserts that the journalists do not understand what they write. As a way to reinforce this message, Judson proves Dylan’s point, asking “Do you [Bob Dylan] care about what you sing?”58 Horace Judson embraces the moniker of “Mr. Jones” as a writer who is hopelessly out of touch with the youth and the counterculture. If the journalist is the informant to the world, the world cannot truly understand the truth from uninformed writers. As a result, Dylan’s critiques find a manifestation and personification in Judson.59
One important connection between “Thin Man” and “Rolling Stone” is the use of the organ, which dominates the two songs. Rather than use an organ with a bright sound, Dylan elects to use a minor key to set the scene. On “Rolling Stone,” Kooper’s organ flies high, creating a fantasy world in the broad light of day. However, the prodding dirge of the organ on “Thin Man” signifies the descent into the underworld of the avant-garde community. Once he sets the scene, Dylan proves that Miss Lonely and Mr. Jones live with the same ignorance and hubris, using a series of questions to land his blows. Dylan uses archetypal figures to criticize the excess of the establishment figure. Mr. Jones, upon entering the avant-garde community, watches the group like a voyeur. Like Miss Lonely, he looks down upon the others, whom he considers beneath him, but is unable to grasp their reality, making himself a fool.
Alongside the use of the rock organ, thematic undertones, and establishment arrogance, Dylan strikes at his characters with the use of rhetorical questions. Just as he asks Miss Lonely how it feels to be a rolling stone, he asks Mr. Jones, “Something is happening here/ But you don’t know what it is/ Do you, Mister Jones?”60 Dylan demands answers from Mr. Jones, who squirms at the accusations. The connection between Mr. Jones and Miss Lonely is their common misunderstandings of the world around them. The Beatles and Rolling Stones would try to create a “Revolution” or support the “Street Fighting Man,” while Dylan cuts to the establishment’s heart and pressures them to change their ungenuine ways. Rather than asking the listener to do something, Bob Dylan forces his targets to look at themselves. He already knows how they need to change, and his questions try to convince them to do so.
Dylan plucks Mr. Jones from his typical beat, dropping him into the avant-garde scene. Using the counterculture as a setting, Dylan asserts that Jones is a hypocrite, as he looks down on the social outcasts to further his desire to try and find a place among the establishment. The truth is that Jones, just like the counterculture, is a stranger to the establishment. Dylan begins this exposé in the first verse, when Jones steps into the room. As a journalist, Jones focuses on writing his article for the establishment instead of focusing on the truth in front of him. Rather than wonder why the naked man is naked, Jones wants to get a picture that would make a fine addition to his article, without any need for context or meaning. Dylan uses wordplay in the second verse to add to Jones’s confusion. As Jones asks about “it” and “what,” somebody snaps back, asking Jones questions about the meaning of the pronouns and adverbs he uses.61 By his inability to comprehend the meaning of “what” or “it,” Jones reveals himself as an outsider, unable to speak the language and understand the culture of the counterculture.62 The focus then turns to the word “now.” 63 Christopher Ricks connects Mr. Jones to Miss Lonely in this verse, as Dylan uses the pronouns “now” and “you.” 64 This repetition and insistence on “NOW,” in both ballads, is another allusion to Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress.” 65 Mr. Jones and Miss Lonely need to embrace reality now.
Jones is unable to find a place in either the counterculture or the establishment. The fourth, fifth, and sixth verses focus on Jones himself, who is a pariah in both communities. Jones caters to the whims of the establishment and tries to find a safe place in society. He probes for dirt and uses his findings to slander the counterculture to make a buck. Instead of offering payment to his informants, the journalist merely gives money to charity, just so he can get the tax-deductible benefit.66
A Dylan ballad cannot be classified as such without exaggerated characters, which “Ballad of a Thin Man” has. Just as the particular identity of Mr. Jones is irrelevant, the particular identity of the characters in the ballad are not important, but are created by Dylan as characters who embody his spite and frustration. One example of this is in the third verse, when the geek approaches Jones “And says, “‘How does it feel/ To be such a freak?’”67 Since Jones is so engrossed with himself, he is unable to take the perspective of others, especially those he judges. The geek offers him a bone, but he is unable to comprehend his own isolation, digging deeper to try to come up with quotes or details for his story.
Dylan restrains his voice on “Ballad of a Thin Man,” which stays in the middle of his register. Throughout the ballad, however, he sparingly uses high notes, but he employs them in the context of the narrative for dramatic effect. Jones is attacked with an accusatory tone, as opposed to a bluntly spiteful one. While slight, this change in tone changes the meaning of the song, turning the ballad into an undermining of Jones’s reality, as opposed to the frontal attack that Dylan employs in “Like a Rolling Stone.” Jones is a clueless alien in a foreign land. He has his world flipped upside down. He is the freak. Dylan says it best: “This is a song I wrote in response to people who ask questions all the time … I figure a person’s life speaks for itself, right? So every once in a while you gotta do this thing- out somebody in their place…This is my response to something that happened over in England, I think it was ‘63 or ’64.’” 68
Conclusion: Manchester and Beyond
C. P. Lee, a music critic, likened Manchester’s “Judas!” concert to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring performance. Three decades before Dylan was born, Stravinsky’s dissonant masterpiece shocked Paris, causing a similar outburst.69 Just like Stravinsky, Dylan’s music was avant-garde, brilliant, and misunderstood. Both audiences failed to grasp the innovation in front of them and, rather than embrace the birth and mastery of a new style, stubbornly clung to the past. Bob Dylan did not cause a riot in Manchester, but his music was just as explosive, as the rock and folk scenes would never be the same again. That audience was unaware that Dylan did not change, their expectations had changed, and they made him what they wanted him to be.
Bob Dylan was the same musician, stretching from his pedal-stomping days in Duluth to his most recent concerns. The same Dylan would switch from piano in his youth to acoustic guitar to electric guitar and, in his later days, return to his piano. Bob Dylan was the same writer when he experimented with Guthrie’s folk or 1960s rock or the blues. Bob Dylan, from twenty to eighty, covered himself in the same mystery, always escaping expectations and predictability. Bob Dylan’s nasal voice would turn scratchy in his later years but showed the same authenticity, allowing millions of fans to bring his music into their hearts. The same Bob Dylan, in the 2010s, dramatized his life to biblical proportions, claiming himself as a “Man of Constant Sorrow” and a “False Prophet.” When his music boils down to its most basic elements, Dylan’s voice, dramatic characters, and mystery are consistent. They evolve; they do not change. When he dabbled in folk, rock, Gospel, or the blues, the public assumed that he had changed, but they were unaware that Dylan was always Dylan. When he received boos, when he received the Nobel Prize, or when he played his Never Ending Tour, Dylan played the same way.
Finally, Martin Scorsese’s No Direction Home provides an insight into Dylan's mindset at that moment. When called “Judas” Dylan remains stone faced, collecting himself with his strumming. “I don’t believe you,” he shouts back, “you’re a liar!”70 His real statement, as it has been in his whole life, was in his music. Just before the doorbell drum kick and the soaring organ, Dylan commands the band: “Play it f------ loud!”71 The critics, journalists, and purists could misunderstand his music, but he did what he always would do: play it f------ loud.
