A Brief Intermission

So I just saw (I wrote this a long time ago) this killer movie You See Me Laughin’, which with deals Fat Possum Records and some of its artists. It was interesting to say the least. The guys dealt with in the most depth are R. L. Burnside, Junior Kimbrough, Cedell Davis, and T- Model Ford. They are all these old blues men from the deep South and all have intriguing stories to share. Two (Burnside and Ford) these men tell stories of killing men. Junior Kimbrough has 28 children. Cedell Davis has had polio, typhoid, and been shot on stage; all of which have combined to leave him confined to wheelchair. He plays guitar flipped upside down and he also is forced to fret the strings with a butter knife because his hands don’t work the way they’re supposed to. Burnside has toured with John Spencer and his Blues Explosion and cut a record with them. Kimbrough played ten dates with Iggy Pop. Both of these pairing came at the more famous artist’s request. Another funny anecdote from the movie is when Bono (yes from U2) tells of his meeting Kimbrough and Junior not even knowing who he was, which I’m sure shocked the oh-so-modest Irishman. Then Kimbrough and his band ripped into a song with lyrics dealt with raping a young girl and Bono began to feel very uncomfortable. Anybody that freaks out Bono is cool with me.

So this is quite incoherent but I’m just trying to persuade you to go check it out. This is a great movie about some passionate energetic musicians who do not, and never will, get their dues. It’s quite the shame to see these guys living in complete squalor and below the poverty line, while fucks like Bono and the Edge are living it up on dry, bland music without half the charisma.

Amplification. Good Idea, Bob.

Bringing It All Back Home – DYLAN WENT ELECTRIC!!!!! Oh fucking well. The only people that are upset or distraught by this (and I’m sure there are very few today) are squares who couldn’t get behind rock and roll. So does electricity make Dylan irrelevant or less intimate or a sell out or a hack? The answer is absolutely “NO” to all of the above. The next three albums are Dylan’s peak without a doubt and because he had a backing group behind him because most of these songs wouldn’t translate well with just an acoustic. Enough chitchat. The first four songs on here are absolute classics. “Subterranean Homesick Blues” is Dylan’s fast paced, nonsensical rhyming and total Chuck Berry rock and roll sparking the thought that Dylan’s on to something new here. “She Belongs to Me” has already been written about and so has “Love Minus Zero/No Limit.” That leaves “Maggie’s Farm” that is a total tirade against the folk community and the music biz but can also be taken as a rant against poor working conditions. The next three songs could be considered filler but I love each one dearly. “Outlaw Blues” and “On the Road Again” are just simple rock and roll but each contains some killer one-liners from the king of one-liners. “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream” follows the format of Dylan’s other “dreams,” where he tells a bizarre story. This story is bizarre and funny and it has a good backing beat behind it. The story makes no sense and goes everywhere from Moby Dick to funeral parlors to Columbus. “Mr. Tambourine Man” is golden, as you all know. “ Gates of Eden” and “It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” are the combined climax of this album. Both are surreal lyrics that ultimately contain a much deeper message; they are not just flashy words and images. That leaves “Baby Blue” and, again, I’m sure you’ve all heard it and know it’s great. So fuck off.

Highway 61 Revisited – Kicks off with “Like a Rolling Stone” which even gets overplayed to me. Then “Tombstone Blues’ is garage rock at it’s finest; actually it exceeds all garage rock I’ve ever heard. The slight out of rhythm acoustic guitar starts off only to be followed by the band. The guitar breaks sounds so un-organized but energized. The lyrics are surrealism epitomized with amazing one liners like “The sun’s not yellow’s it’s chicken.” Then “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry” (by the way, why does that title not seem pretentious but all emo songs do?) is a slow paced, piano blues song with some extraordinary vocals by Dylan. “From a Buick 6” is a rocker and possibly the only filler on the album (but not to me; I love it.) “Ballad of a Thin Man” is a protest song. Railing against squares, and straights and suits and “normal” people. The piano riff throughout the song only adds to it’s genius. “Queen Jane Approximately” comes up next and it’s a love song disguised as a put down song. Dylan rips some poor Jane apart only to say that after it all, all the mistakes, all the screw ups, that she could come back to mister Dylan himself. The title slides by with that damn whistle and the fantastic adventures to be had on one of America’s highways. “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues” tells of a terrible place that the narrator has “had enough” and he’s got to leave town too. The opening lyrics are line for line some of my favorite. The song is probably my favorite on any give spin of this disc. “Desolation Row” ends the album on a long acoustic note. The guitar riff is damn good and I wonder if Dylan’s got a session man handling six string duties on this one. Desolation Row is a very interesting place that I wish was a setting for a movie. Or actually I’m glad a movie isn’t made because it’s hard enough hearing assholes say “The book was better.” It’d be goddamn suicide inducing to hear some one say “BUT THE SONG WAS SO MUCH BETTER. But you’d be forced to.

Blonde on Blonde – Starts off with that “stoned song,” “Rain Day Women #12 & 35” which is not about getting high and everyone’s heard it. “Pleading My Time” is a nice little song whose title is constantly stuck in my head. “Visions of Johanna” is a nice surrealist song with song good playing by the session cats backing Dylan. About the next nine songs are absolutely classic songs that deserve a listen to and I couldn’t pick any highlights out… so that’s why this sentence exists. “4th Time Around,” which is supposedly a response to the Beatles “Norwegian Wood” and “Sad Eyed-Lady of the Lowlands,” which is the beautiful ten-minute closer about his then and soon to be ex-wife, make it worth the other two songs. Oh yeah this is a double album so more Dylan than usual.

Greatest Hits – The only reason you need this is if you don’t want to get all the non-hits-but still-esssential-stuff from the earlier albums or for “Positively 4th Street,” which is a perfect rant about some one who thinks they are Dylan’s friend and He tells ‘em all the reason why not. Great organ part to boot.

The Folk Ballader. (Took Long Enough)

Bob Dylan – This is his debut, which was released early on to limited areas because the appeal wasn’t big everywhere for folk singin’ hillbillies who wanted to be Woody and this record is just that. It’s merely a folk record but a damn good one at that (actually I don’t know since this is the only folk record I own but if this is a shitty one, I’m going right now to buy a bunch of this stuff.) It’s mainly covers with only two originals. Both of which are good. I love “Song for Woody,” because of the way Dylan says “Hey hey Wood Guthrie I wrote a song for you.” The best songs though are the renditions of other’s songs. “You’re No Good,” is…well good. Lame. “In My Time of Dyin’” features some cool slide work using his girlfriend’s lipstick case (or so I’ve heard who really know?) and is probably the best song on here. “Baby, Let Me Follow You Down” is awesome. And…basically if you think you like Dylan, and have all the truly essential shit, and also like wooden music, then you will most probably like this.

The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan – This is Dylan’s first “peak” and just his second album. It’s the one of the first album supposedly for the artist to have recorded mainly his own stuff. Whatever. The first three songs make serious claims for contender for best opening triad of songs. “Blowin’ in the Wind,” you all know it, “Girl From the North Country,” Dylan’s ode to a lost love, and “Masters of War.” This song has the man talking about the subjects of the title and at the end wishes they were dead. Dylan never really gets this serious. Death motherfuckers!! I’ll never be able to explain why I find that so amazing to people, I guess. Then some other song before “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall” hits, which offers some amazing beautiful imagery and an intense chorus that consist solely of the title. This song single handedly changed my life. Pretty nice feat for a song don’t you think? “Don’t Think Twice It’s All Right,” is Dylan being simultaneously bitter and funny at the same time about a break up with the girl on the cover of this album (in the picture to the left) and the same one whose lipstick he copped earlier. “Oxford Town” is an account of mistreatment of blacks in Mississspisppsi and is very catchy. The two only two covers come toward the end. “Corina, Corina,” which features a very simple backing band and caused quite the ruckus in the purist folk community (so you can see why they shit themselves when He threw down “Like a Rolling Stone”) and has a very cool vocal performance where Dylan gets to a near yodel. “Honey, Allow Me One More Chance” has a very funny concept and vocal as well. Then it closes with “I Shall Be Free,” which, unlike some of his “funny” songs of this period, is actually humorous to me. He really outdid himself with one but cursed himself at the same time. He could have churned out old folk tunes forever but followed his muse and it got him worshipped and expectations were hoisted upon him ever after.

Another Side of Bob Dylan – Dylan’s a bit of an egomaniac it seems. Most of his album covers features him in some format and three out of four (I do not own These Times Are A-Changin'; I have heard it though and it rips) of his album titles so far have used his name. Just a side note really. Opens with “All I Really Wanna Do” is a list of things he doesn’t want or doesn’t expect from somebody, presumably a female, and the chorus culimates in what he does really want to do: be friends with that person. Dylan’s hillbilly, “Kentucky” (as one person I know refers to it) vocals here are the best part as he essentially yodels during the chorus. The next two songs are amazingly great and amazing overlooked. "Black Crow Blues," where Dylan exclaims he don't feel too much like a scare crow no more and "Spanish Harlem Incident," which is about gypsies or some shit. “Chimes of Freedom” is an epic protest song with stream of consciousness lyrics that make you quit wanting to be a songwriter, if you ever thought you were. “To Ramona” is my second favorite song on here and I never hear any one else talk about it and I’m not going to either ‘cause it’s obviously not cool to do so. The aforementioned “Motorpsycho Nitemare” is a cool story that I’m pretty sure Seinfeld ripped off. (You know the one where Kramer and Newman go to Michigan to redeem recyclables and end up chasing Jerry’s stolen car instead? And the subplot where Newman ends up at that farm? I’m pretty sure they stole that from here. Only Dylan doesn’t touch the daughter and acts like a Commie to get chased away because he can’t just leave because he promised the farmer that he’d milk his cow.) “My Back Pages” is good anywhere except before my favorite song on the album. “I Don’t Believe You” is a tale of Dylan and a girl but the day after thing went down she’s acts like they “never have met.” The guitar line is really cool and so are the lyrics and when Dylan laughs, “guitar played as her skirt it swayed” I smile every time. “Ballad in Plain D” is a very personal blow by blow of his breakup with the same girl I’ve been talking about and supposedly the one song Dylan wished he had never written; I guess it was too personal for ole Bobby. It ends on “It Ain’t Me Babe,” the classic that I’m sure every living person has heard.

Retro Review Robert Style

Robert Zimmerman is the greatest rock and roller of all time in my opinion. He did it all: he wrote beautiful insightful acoustic material, then shunned this whole crowd and turn out a few amazing rock, almost garage, albums. Then shunned that audience by going country. The he had a huge fall and holed himself up for eight year. He released an album that by most people’s interpretations was intentionally flawed to lose all his fans. A decade after his “creative peak” he released a masterpiece that could have never been written by him at any other period of time. He then went very secular Christian, which of course and very beautifully alienated most of his liberal “open minded” fan base. Then he similarly reject the G-O-D. Then he fell into that awful 80s slump (but who didn’t?) but now seems to have fallen into an old age streak of quality albums. He made turn after turn after turn that seemed to contradict everything he had done in the past but he never mentioned it or apologized or tried to explain. I’m pretty sure he sold his soul to the devil and/or was crazy but that seems to be all cleared up now. That Christianity thing does work.

His music styles were as varied as his lyrical content. He's the King of the Put Down song while he can also sing about goddess women. He can write absurdist humor and serious protest. He can write straight forward obvious lyrics and metaphorical song that couldn't be figured out, even with an index. He could rip apart the entire world then build it back up. For a period there, he could write any god damn thing he wanted to.

This description, of course, sucks because a few brief paragraphs could never sum up what thousands of scholars still can’t figure out: “What’s the deal with that Dylan guy?”

So since Dylan’s catalog is so extensive (and I don’t even own it all) I’m gonna split it up so it’s not one giant post.

I Couldn't Decide Which Picture I Liked More.

The Stooges are getting my Retro Review treatment for today. They would’ve been first but Sabbath inspired me so I couldn’t just cast them aside could I? Let’s cut the bullshit and get right into it.

The Stooges – Opens with “1969,” which has some of the most sophomoric lyrics of all time but the vibe is cool and so is the riff. It’s one of two “classics” from here. Up next? The other “classic:” a simple ode to S&M that feature one hypnotizing riff and some menacing lyrics. Love at it’s most fucked up. “We Will Fall” is plain filler. The rest of the album follows the same basic formula as the first two songs: Nuggets box set mixed with hard liquor and harder drugs, a very good thing. Check “Little Doll,” which fronts the best riff on the album.

Fun House – Uh…God blessed Iggy and the crew on the next two and he subsequently blessed me. Thanks Lord. This opens with “Down on the Street,” which sets the template: killer rhythm section, weird never-done-before-and-never-done-after guitar, and Iggy Fucking Pop. What else do you pussies need? Really answer me? The first three songs are the “normal ones” as they all last under five minutes and are more conventional but only when compared to the other stuff. Four, Five and Six are huge. All going over five minutes and making noise seem like art. And the last song is…well basically noise. It’s the sound of drums being banged around and Iggy yelling and noise and destruction but oddly it never feels like filler, only the perfect ending to an insane album. I feel like I should type more because I champion this album so viciously but all attempt to chronicle how this album makes me feel seem futile.

Raw Power – A little precursor before we get on with it: the Stooges broke up after Fun House and Iggy went to England with David Bowie to become a solo artist. He took along an unknown, then and now, guitarist James Williamson to help write songs. Whilst in Brit-land the lesser Glitter Twins decided they needed a rhythm section so they called the Asheton brothers (who, if you don’t know, were in the Stooge but the new bass player instead handled six string duties in those days. That cause much tension as you can imagine) to fill the spot. And they became Iggy and the Stooges to better sell Iggy as a person and an image, which succeed beautifully. If some asshole had me describe this album in one word, I’d pick “LOUD.” And if that same asshole wouldn’t let me use that word (who dictates what words you can use anyways? Fuck), I’d pick “RIFFS.” This is the most perfect guitar album I’ve ever heard. There’s every type of guitar that could be imagined for an album released in 1973. It opens with “Search and Destroy,” which sports a killer riff (but every song does so I’m not gonna be redundant and say that anymore) and some insightful lyrics by Iggy. Such gems include “I'm a street walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm,” and “I’m the world forgotten boy/ the one who searches and destroy.” Might not be Dylan but Iggy ain’t stupid. The rest of the album falls into three categories basically hard rockers (the aforementioned opening track, “Penetration,” “Your Pretty Face is Going to Hell,” and “Death Trip,” which I’ve written about before, all fall here), or rock and roll that moves and shakes the hips like old ‘50s dragster bands (the title track and “Shake Appeal” get you movin’) and ballad-y type songs, meaning only that they are a little slower and feature a little more acoustic guitar but they’re no Barry Manilow; they are just as intense musically and lyrically as anything else on this fucker. “Gimme Danger,” which has some misogynist lyrics to boot (“Swear you’re gonna feel my hand”) and “I Need Somebody,” which features Iggy proclaiming, “I’m living just to sing this song.” I’ve never believed anything so purely.

Metallic K.O. – This is quite possibly the greatest rock and roll album of all time or it could be the worst; it depend wholly on how you like your R n R. If you like it clean and precise and exact and produced and delicate, then go listen to the fuckin Monkees. If you think rock and roll should be dangerous and a little scary and that there should always be the feeling that the guys on stage are crazier than you and could come down and beat the shit out of you at any minute then this is your record. The wreck is going to fast and the conductor is on pills and the track is out at the next turn and the bodies are gonna be piled up when it’s all over with and there’s gonna be a lot of fucking bodies. Do you like that feeling? This is your record. But if you like option A, then steer clear cause these performances are so ramshackle and unprofessional that it’s amazing this stuff was ever released. At one point Iggy yells for the band to “take it down” (as in take the volume down) and it takes the sad fuckers close to two minutes to do it competently. This as well as anything proves my point about the band being wretched bums. The record has a great back-story and it’s essential to understanding what was going on. After Raw Power was released the boys kept touring and kicking around with absolutely no success. So the drugs and the internal hatred and the…well everything that happens to bands took it’s toll and by 1975 (I think this is when this was recorded) the band was fucked. But this is their last show ever (at least the first half of this albums is, I’m not concerning you with the other half cause I’m lazy.) But I’m getting away from why this album is so fucked up. Iggy got in a fight with some Scorpions (a biker gang in the vein of the Hell’s Angels, not “Rock You Like a Hurricane” type of Scorpions) the night before this show. And so he went on a radio station to promote said show and made some comments to the effect of “If you pussies want to do something about it, we’ll be at this club at this time and I’m the lead singer. So come and do your worst.” Well biker gangs apparently pay a lot of attention to the radio and they came down and did some damage. You can hear shit getting thrown at the stage on the tape. Eggs, glasses, camera, chairs it’s all being hurled at poor Ig. He didn’t do much to stop it though; actually provocation was the James’ game. The most classic of count in to a song ever is uttered here: “ONE, TWO, FUCK YOU PRICK” kicks off “Cock in My Pocket.” Then other great lines such as “You pay ten buck and I’m getting 10,000. So fuck ya.” And other things about how great Iggy thinks he is (and how great he probably really is) and about how he’s gonna fuck these pissed off biker’s girlfriends. It almost brings a tear to my eye to hear Iggy say, “I never thought it would come to this,” before the band kicks into a version of “Louie, Louie” with some particularly offensive lyrics courteous of Ig. One of the greatest, and most unappreciated, bands of their time goes out like a frat’s house band. Playing “Louie Louie” to a completely inattentive audience, well I guess hatred is a form of attention, so forget that. But at the end of it all you can hear something whiz by the stage and Iggy say “You missed again; come back and try next week” or some shit like that. Then WHACK and you can hear Iggy hit the floor because somebody finally put the loud bastard on the ground. UNBELIEVABLE. (I didn't talk about the music at all did I?)

Sweet, Chief. (wow that title sucks)

So I’ve been listening to a lot of the holy Sabbath lately. No idea why really other than that they demolish most other “heavy” music; I, like most music fans, go through phases of listening and right now is a huge ‘Bath phase but interestingly not much other hard music. It’s been Dylan and Sabbath so far today.

But a new series is born today. It’s a glorious event. Kids nowadays seem too caught up in new music, not a bad thing in itself, but they seem to do so as expense of older artist. They pick Bright Eyes over Simon and Garfunkel or Wolfmother over Blue Cheer just because it’ll be easier to talk to their friends about or it’ll win them scene points. And let me just tell you neither of these particular newer bands touches the oldies. So I’ve made it my life mission, or at least my current half hour’s mission, to fight this trend.

SABBATH.

Black Sabbath – This album to me is just the band jamming their asses off. Maybe it’s more concise than that but to me it’s just one long session. The reasoning here is that the songs just tend to run together; in fact most of the tracks have more than one song within them. Iommi plays every right note for like 35 minutes (which any guitar player can tell you playing any right notes is hard even for 35 seconds.) There are classic tracks here like “The Wizard” and the title track and “Warning,” which is Iommi playing at his peak for 10 minutes and “Wicked World”. So this is the start of heavy metal and you shouldn’t regret owning it. So roll a joint and wait for Ozzy to start screaming “Oh, No, No please God help me!” Don’t forget to turn this shit up.

Paranoid – Contains the classic cuts “Iron Man” and the title track. It also contains my favorite Sab song “Electric Funeral” but basically every single song is hot shit. Except maybe “Planet Caravan,” but even that recently has sounded good; it’s probably the drugs. So turn this shit up to ELEVEN and wait for “War Pigs” to kick in.

Master of Reality – My favorite album by these Brits. It opens with “Sweet Leaf,” an ode to the mari-huana, and ends with “Into the Void,” which contains one of the heaviest, coolest riffs of all time combined with some weird space drug-induced lyrics. In the middle of it all is “Children of the Grave,” which has the coolest drumming ever and some apocalyptic lyrics to boot. The rest of the album is acoustic instrumentals and songs about God. “Doesn’t sound like a good formula for a metal album,” I can hear you saying. But it works somehow. The guitar tone is the most perfect fuzz; this is the album Iommi started tuning down a step and a half. If you smoke the reefer at all ever, really you need this album to crank cause it’s perfect for the occasion; or so I’ve heard, Mom. It’s their peak and it goes slightly downhill then zooom!!!!! So cherish cause there ain’t another album like this out there.

Vol. 4 – This contains some really good stuff and some mediocre stuff. But if you turn it up everything will be all right. “Wheels of Confusion” opens ‘er up and it rips. Iommi’s guitar is back at it hittin me right in the gut every note; again I think it’s the drugs. “Changes” … I used to hate this fucking song. Cause it’s a piano laden ballad and for Sabbath that just ain’t gonna cut it. But take it for what it is and it’s a good song. “FX” is, as the name applies, some synth or computer shit. Not bad, just useless really. “Supernaut” and “Snowblind,” anode to c-c-c-c-cocaine, are among the band’s heaviest moments thus marking them amongst their best. “St. Vitus’ Dance” has one of the coolest riffs and it really moves. Basically this is better than your Zeppelin records but you’re just afraid to have “metalhead” stamped on you. Pussy.

Sabbath, Bloody, Sabbath – So I just listened to this really fucking loud, which isn’t fair to you or other albums since everything sounds better LOUD especially Sabbath. I always viewed this as the worst of the Sabbath albums I have and well…it still is but it does a little better if cranked. Good tracks to look out for are “A National Acrobat,” “Killing Yourself to Live” and the title track. “Fluff” is actually a really beautiful acoustic piece that shows some real “artistic growth” too. So go buy pot from that weird guy who works with your uncle and buy this pronto.

How bad ass is that picture of Iommi, before he went on his power trip, and Ozzy, before he married that crazy twat?

Thanks for Something

I was watching Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged session the other day and it hit me how good it was. I used to be a total Nirvana fanboy but this time I wasn’t obsessed with Kurdt’s shoes or anything. I was merely there for the music and it’s, dare I say, more impactful than it was when I was in the 9th grade. But Nirvana didn’t just represent music to me; they still don’t really; sadly I can’t separate the two; so I still see Nirvana as my favorite band even though I never listen to them anymore. But “Why,” I hear you cry.

Nirvana sparked the first thought in my head that different was cool and that the norm was lame. They exposed me to a world that was un-thought of at the time. A world where slackers succeed and yuppies died by the dozens; a world where music was more important than sex; a world where Mr. Rogers sweater are a fashion statement; a world where the Stooges are greater than the Stones; a world where ethos mean more than money; a world where the loud, fuzzy, distorted, out-of-tune electric guitar is dance music; a world where equality is achieved; a world where long hair is cool and crew cuts are not; a world where football is stupid and fast cars are for losers; a world where poetry is true art; a world where Mark Lanegan is Jim Morrison but not a wannabe poet; a world where the Gregs (Sage and Ginn) are better than the pair of Jim(i/my); a world where mail order was the new Amazon; a world where the club scene wasn’t full of hipster fucks and instead full of Mark Arm’s; a world where life touring in a van is a more look forward to than a huge condo and a executive job; a world where J Mascias is president and Thurston Moore is Ambassador of Cool; a world where the 80s did produce good music; a world where life is lived not thought about.

Nirvana didn’t really say anything like this and neither did their music. It’s just the feeling I got from them. But the thing that they did that was more important than opening my mind (and this will tell you about where I stand as a person) is that they, and Kurt specifically, turned me onto really fucking good music. Without them I’d probably be listening to the Von Bondies or some other psuedo-indie band. But when I learned Kurt sold his record collection to buy tickets to a Black Flag show, I went and bought Damaged. When I saw Raw Power constantly as his favorite record, I purchased that monster too. Those two records had more impact on my musical life than any others. When Kurt wore that homemade Flipper, I downloaded “Sex Bomb.” When the Meat Puppets appeared on Unplugged, I went and bought the album those songs came from. When Kurt listed the first three Wiper albums in this favorite, I bought the box set that contained all three. Nirvana got me into the blues thanks to that Leadbelly cover on Unplugged. Kurt wore a Scratch Acid shirt and I have their complete discography. Nirvana recorded a split with the Jesus Lizard and I surprisingly enough love the Jesus Lizard. Pat Smear was Nirvana’s guitarist toward the end and he was also in the Germs and well… you probably know where that leads. The Melvins were Nirvana’s mentors early on and I have several Melvins albums.

I’m sure there are many more examples but the whole things is that there was, and still is, more to music than “big Harley ridin’ rock bands,” as Krist Novoselic put it. The struggling usually have more to say and I like to listen. Nirvana helped to show me this.

As an added bonus I've put two pictures up for you to cherish. Krist is the coolest guy ever.

Poetry is for Girls

All these lists are making me queasy. It's the numbers that do it, I think. Dylan is a poet (no matter how much he wants to deny or confirm it, depending on the interview.) So I figured if I was gonna do a list on top songs that view a woman as a goddess, he'd be God. I'm gonna turn to Him and put it in His hands. Five songs seemed too short of a list so there are a couple extra little treats for you.

"Girl of the North Country" -- This is off the masterful Freewheelin' LP. It's talks of a girl Dylan left behind and now he wants to makes sure she's doing well. He hasn't hit his peak yet but the song and the sentiment are beautiful . Check out the version on Nashville Skyline for a duet with The Man in Black himself, Johnny Cash.

"Ballad in Plain D" -- This is quite possibly the most personal song Dylan ever wrote as it deal with his split from "the could-be dream-lover of [his] lifetime," Suze Rotolo, who is pictured on the Freewheelin' album cover. It's over 10 minutes long but it never really drags to me; some people hate it though and see it as filler. It has recently become one of my favorite Bobby songs. The emotion and tenderness in his voice while he recounts the tragic tale cut into the soul and shuffle about the heart.

"Love Minus Zero/No Limit" -- This is when Dylan was hitting his peak with surreal songs especially about love and the women folk. Just check the lyrics to this song to see what I mean. It's contains some of my favorite lyrics by man.

My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn't have to say she's faithful,
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can't buy her.

(Is that how you're supposed to quote stuff over four lines? Cause isn't that a special case or something? English class sucked.) But this verse is one of the most beautiful and contains some of the most stunning images of all time.

"Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands" -- Written for his then-wife, and later referenced in another song, this is straight feeling. Cause I have no idea what any of this shit means. He's an alien. But I understand what he's trying to get across: that he's devoted to this woman. Just go buy Blonde on Blonde and see for yourself. God damn do I have to do everything?

"Sara" -- This is written after their marriage is failing and it's chronicling all the good times they've had while watching their children on the beach. "So easy to look at, so hard to define" is exactly how I feel. Dylan knows me man. Oh yeah this is the song he mentions writing "Sad-Eyed..." for her so you can't deny it now Bob. It's a beautiful song that ends a beautiful album, Desire.

"She Belongs to Me" -- This is the ultimate in love songs to me. It says how I feel; it's beautifully written; the melody is great; it's timeless; it's definitive; it's more than worthy of the person it was written for (I'm not sure who's it was written for but wouldn't you love for a song like this to be written for you?) So go pick up Bringing It All Back Home and you'll get this and "Love Minus Zero" and a slew of other great songs.

I'm didn't do a very good job here but fuck it. Do I ever? It's not about me though nor my descriptions; it's about the songs and love never sounded so good.