Philadelphia Freedom

 As a sage on reddit said earlier today: 

Philadelphia: taking out tyrants since 1776, one vote at a time.  

Philly, the city that decapitated a hitchhiking robot, coming through in a big way for democracy—we owe you a big damn beer tonight. 

At the risk of getting mushy? 

Shine the light, won't you shine the light 

Philadelphia freedom, I love you, yes I do

Election Day Bob Dylan Listenings

I have written it many times here on Reason to Believe, almost on an annual basis. On Election Day
each year I tend to turn to Bob Dylan. As there is no voice for the unheard, advocate for the unseen, and spotlight into the darkness that has been louder, more prominent or shone brighter than Mr. Zimmerman for more than a half-century now. A big part of American music? Hell, Bob Dylan is American music. He is America, through and through.

So today I listened to a few old nuggets, some of which have been featured here before. The clarion call for the forgotten of "Chimes of Freedom." The meditation of hollow exceptionalism that is "With God On Our Side." The monument to white privilege and injustice that is "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll." And the paean to Medgar Evers and the civil rights movement that is "Only A Pawn in Their Game."

Those words rang out in the early 1960s and they still ring out today. Because they have to.

And our votes counted and needed to be counted in 1800 and 1864 and 1904 and 1932 and 1952 and 1960 and 1964 and 1972 and 1980 and 1992 and 2000 and 2008 and on and one because they always will, and always have to.

So consider this my annual PSA. Listen to a little Bob Dylan today. And then go vote. It always feels so good when we do!

Happy Election Day. Go vote!

"Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales,
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position.
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts,
All down in taken-for-granted situations,

Tolling for the deaf and blind, tolling for the mute,
Tolling for the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute,
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chased and cheated by pursuit,
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing."

- "The Chimes of Freedom" - Bob Dylan, 1964

Election Day Bob Dylan Listenings

Well I'm just average, common too
I'm just like him, the same as you
I'm everybody's brother 'n son
I ain't different from anyone

- Bob Dylan, "I Shall Be Free No. 10"

You all know what to do. Go vote...and even listen to a little of Mr. Zimmerman—that uniquely American voice which pretty much drills down to the marrow of who we are every time it sounds—to give you a little additional motivation. I know it always helps me.

(And a question. Does Bob Dylan ever get true credit for being as funny as he is? Seriously, if there has been a funnier songwriter over the last half-century or so, I'm really not sure who he is. This song is a pretty solid example of that).

Election Day Bob Dylan Listening

'Tis that time of year. More specifically 'tis that DAY of the year. Vote. For real. Do it. Today.

As I have stated numerous times in this space, my Election Day listenings always go to Bob Dylan. Why? Probably has something to do with his being the most enduring American voice of the last half-century and more. A voice more often than not for freedom, for empathy and for understanding.

So that's why, I think. And today (Have we done this before? Seriously, I am asking - I've spotlit a lot of Dylan songs here and can't recall if I've done this one yet...oh well. I'm doing it anyway) I choose one of his most perfectly written songs. A song that remembers the forgotten, pities the afflicted, speaks for the voiceless and lifts up the persecuted. It is such a magnificent piece of writing that it's almost a shame that he had to put it to music.

Almost.

Read these lyrics. And go vote. And keep them chimes of freedom flashing.

Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing
Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
And for each an' every underdog soldier in the night
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing

Through the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden as the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin' rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned an' forsakened
Tolling for the outcast, burnin' constantly at stake
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
And the poet and the painter far behind his rightful time
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing

In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
All down in taken-for-granted situations
Tolling for the deaf an' blind, tolling for the mute
For the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
For the misdemeanor outlaw, chained an' cheated by pursuit
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing

Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flared
An' the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
And for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing

Starry-eyed an' laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an' we watched with one last look
Spellbound an' swallowed 'til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse
And for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing

Election Day Bob Dylan Listenings

As I have written in this space before, Election Day brings my music listenings squarely to the doorstep of Bob Dylan. Just because, I guess. Or perhaps because no one American has so consistently written and sang about the American Experience as well or as articulately as Mr. Zimmerman has. And no American Experience is more American than the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November.

Election Day should be the great equalizer for all of us. I know it's a very naive thing to say that it is in fact that, but it should be. One person, one vote. Every gets their shot, one shot, each year to make their voices and opinions heard. One person, one vote. Hundreds of millions of Americans voicing their beliefs on their own, yet no one is alone. At least no one should be. We do it alone, but together. As Americans.

That's why I still love Election Day and still look forward to casting my vote this day every year, just as I have for the last 31 years. And that this year my 18-year-old son gets to vote with me for the first time? Even better.

So with that "alone together" theme, I give you this year's choice of Bob Dylan albums and songs. In my very humble and perhaps misguided opinion, it is one of his three greatest records ever, yet one seldom thought of among his giants. John Wesley Harding.

It was revolutionary for its time 50 years ago when it was released and remains so now. After Dylan's electric hulabaloo. After Blonde on Blonde. After Don't Look Back and the "Dylanization" of the music world. After the motorcycle crash and his self-imposed exile. And he came back with a quiet, folkier yet razor's edge sharp album in JWH that was startling in its artistic and lyrical simplicity. It spoke so loudly of the tumultuous times that 1967 brought and 1968 was about to bring (the album was released just after Christmas), yet did it in measured, at times hushed tones. It remains sui generis in his catalog or anyone else's. A true, endearing work of art by an all-time master.

And today's song is one of the quieter, more solemn tunes from that quieter, more solemn album. "I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine." Sung to the same tune as the epic worker's folk tune, "Joe Hill," there's a line in "St. Augustine" that really hit me as I listened to it today, thinking about Election Day and all it connotes for us:

"No martyr is among you
Whom you can call your own.
So go on your way accordingly,
But know you're not alone."

Amen. Through it all we're still here. And today we still vote. So go do it. And know you're not alone.

Election Day - How does it feel?

It's Election Day. I love Election Day as much as any day on the calendar. And as loyal readers here at Reason to Believe know, Election Day for me is all about Bob Dylan. 

On Election Days that I looked forward to and even on those I kinda dreaded, I still loved going to the polls, expressing my opinion on my terms as only I can. My people don't always win, but I always feel like I've done something big when I vote. Going all the way back 30 years when I voted for the first time.

For many many reasons I am thrilled for Election Day 2016 to be here and for the campaign soon to be over; most of those reasons having to do with a certain sentient rotting pumpkin running for President for one of the major parties. And in 12 hours it will in fact be over. And I think our great nation will be a little greater as a result.

This day as I head into work I'll be be blaring Mr. Zimmerman on the way once more, And I'll go right to the source, as they say. No fooling around, no wasting time. I'll go right to one of his greatest albums ever and start with the very first track on that record, objectively and pretty much inarguably the greatest song he ever wrote.


Because it really does speak to just so much of what we've been watching for the past year and more. The insufferable feeling invincible. The underprivileged being duped and lied to. And the tenets of decency and integrity being torn to pieces before our eyes.

Here's hoping it all ends tonight. I'll take comfort in words Bob wrote rather presciently 51 years ago, words that really could have been written for today:

Ain't it hard when you discover that,
He really wasn't wear it's at,
After he took from you everything he could steal.

Right on. Go vote and take back every ounce that's been robbed from us this year.

And as the credits roll on this election season, let's take one more look at one of the truly great defiant moments in rock-n-roll history. At the Manchester Free Trade Hall in 1966, when Bob Dylan brushed off the detractors and jeers with a smile and a sneer, turned to his band and just as they began a blistering "Like a Rolling Stone," told them, "Play it fucking loud!"

And they did.

's

Go play today, voters. And when you play, play it fucking loud.

Not Dark Yet (An Election Day Bob Dylan Fix)

"It's not dark yet. But it's gettin' there."

As I have indicated before here at Reason to Believe, Election Day brings me invariably to Bob Dylan. Not sure why. Maybe it's because he sees things that most of the rest of us never see. Maybe it's because he can make cynicism so irresistible. Or maybe it's just because he's been making music for more than 50 years and that is indeed one of the truly enduring things about the Republic over the last half-century.

I remember when Krispy Kreme came to New England a decade ago and everyone went gaga over it. I mean, hell, me too. Warm glazed donuts? Yes please. Why should only the south have something that you can only otherwise get by sticking a cold glazed donut in the microwave. (Yeah, I know—Krispy Kremes were orgasmic. I get it.) Cars lined up by the dozens to get inside the restaurant to buy 'em. There were two kinds of donuts once they arrived: Krispy Kremes and get the hell out of my face with that weak nonsense you're calling a donut. Krspy! Kremes! Forever! That was us.

But then suddenly one day a few years ago...poof. Krispy Kreme was gone in these parts. As if it had never been here. And time moved on. And now I just realized I have taken something of a digression off this Election Day topic.

The point, I guess, is unlike Krispy Kremes, Bob Dylan endures. He's endured Goldwater and Nixon, Afghanistan and Iran-Contra. He's gone from mockingly calling himself a "song and dance man" to hawking Chryslers on TV. But he keeps making music. All these 50+ years down the road and he's still making damn music. And there's something decidedly American about that, isn't there?

So Happy Election Day and go and do your civic duty today. And to make it worth your while, here's one of the best songs he's written in the last 25 years (from his exceptional 1997 album Time Out Of Mind), yet one that given how prolific he is probably wouldn't make it even into his all-time Top 50.

But still. This is a great song. Listen to it. Then go vote. Then listen to it again. Because this is Election Day. And Bob Dylan, like democracy, is still here. Even if Krispy Kremes aren't.

Political Science

I do loves me some Election Day! I truly do.

And I love Glen Phillips' voice. I think I could listen to him sing the ingredients on the back of a bottle of laxative and still be heartily entertained.

So in honor of today and all that it connotes, here's Glen. Doing more than justice to Randy Newman's magnificently wry "Political Science."