'Highway 61 Revisited' - revisited

So I figured better late than never, and bought this CD earlier this week.

I mean, when you consider that Rolling Stone magazine said that "Like A Rolling Stone" is the greatest rock song of all time, and that the redoubtable Greil Marcus said this album is one of the two or three best albums ever, $13.99 didn't seem all that out of line.

So yowza, it's really good.

What's truly great for those of us who first this music on crummy AM radio when it came out is that it's like getting to, as they say, "hear it again for the very first time."

Trust me on this - and you know why... but I digress - when I originally listened to "Like A Rolling Stone," all I heard was Dylan's scratchy voice over a background of noise, not one instrument distinguishable.

Who knew then, as I know now, that there's beautiful guitar work in there by none other than THE Mike Bloomfield?

And that there are all those other wonderful rhythms hidden in what was a Phil Spector-like "wall of sound" back in the day?

But wait - there's more.

I always liked a Dylan song I thought was entitled "Mr. Jones."

That's because the only words I could ever make out on AM radio were,

Because something is happening here,
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now I find that the name of this song is "Ballad of a Thin Man," and that it's got great lyrics and instrumentals.

I've been listening to it over and over today.

No wonder those who knew and appreciated how great Dylan was gnashed their teeth so when he sold out to Victoria's Secret.

Title: Ballad of a Thin Man

by Bob Dylan

You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?