Dylan, Freud...
Genius can be debated but not ignored.
I write songs, so I'd be an idiot if I didn't try to find out about the best lyricist of the twentieth century.
I read his books, and I studied studied every interview I could find with Dylan and people who had worked with Dylan.
One big surprise: Geniuses bust ass. Or to be more precise they have such a fascination and a self-motivating facility ( the better your product, the more fun it is to keep generating it) that they can focus like others can't. They seem to spend more time admiring and learning from greatness than bitching about who ever is "tainting" and "corrupting" things.
In one of Dylan's books he commented that on arrival in New York " I didn't care about love or money."
In particular early in NY he was very impressed by Robert Johnson.
"his {Dylan's} approach to songwriting seems to have been revolutionized by Johnson’s example. “I copied Johnson’s words down on scraps of paper so I could more closely examine the lyrics and patterns, the construction of his old-style lines and the free association that he used, the sparkling allegories, big-ass truths wrapped in the hard shell of nonsensical abstraction . . .” It is easy to see how that description leads to “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.”
On one album with Lanois producing, some associates commented on his intense efforts in writing:
Mason Ruffner, guitarist: “Bob was doodling a lot with the lyrics. He used a pencil. He didn’t use no ink-pen. Always making changes and additions and subtractions. An elephant could’ve walked in and he wouldn’t have seen it. His concentration is unbelievable.”
Howard: “He would always be working on his lyrics. He’d have a piece of paper with thousands of words on it, all different ways, you couldn’t even read it. Words going upside-down, sideways, all over this page. I never saw him eat. He drank coffee and smoked cigarettes, and he’d sit chipping away at the words, pulling in words from other songs.”
A favorite verse from Desolation Row:
At midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row.
The evocative, surreal density of storytelling..is stunning. Just the creative image of "the heart attack machine" condenses so much about
middle class culture.
Read more at
http://www.uncut.co.uk/features/life-wit...85HycZO.99