The Rolling Stone Interview: Bob Dylan - Part II (1969)

(Cover story continued)

Jann WennerPosted Nov 29, 1969 12:00 AM

Do you have any particular subject in mind, or plan, for a book?

Do you?

For yours or mine?

(laughs) For any of them.

What writers today do you dig? Like who would you read if you were writing a book? Mailer?

All of them. There's something to be learned from them all.

What about the poets? You once said something about Smokey Robinson . . . I didn't mean Smokey Robinson, I meant Arthur Rimbaud. I don't know how I could've gotten Smokey Robinson mixed up with Arthur Rimbaud, (laughter) But I did.

Do you see Allen Ginsberg much?

Not at all. Not at all.

Do you think he had any influence on your songwriting at all?

I think he did at a certain period. That period of ... "Desolation Row," that kind of New York type period when all the songs were just "city songs." His poetry is city poetry. Sounds like the city.

Before, you were talking about touring and using drugs. During that period of songs like "Mr. Tambourine Man" and "Baby Blue," which a lot of writers have connected to the drug experience, not in the sense of them being "psychedelic music," or drug songs, but having come out of the drug experience.

How so?

In terms of perceptions. A level of perceptions. . . awareness of the songs...

Awareness of the minute. You mean that?

An awareness of the mind.

I would say so.

Did taking drugs influence the songs?

No, not the writing of them, but it did keep me up there to pump 'em out.

Why did you leave the city and city songs for the country and country songs?

The country songs?

The songs . . . you were talking about "Highway 61" being a song of the city, and songs of New York City . . .

What was on that album?

Highway 61? "Desolation Row," "Queen Jane". . .

Well, it was also what the audiences wanted to hear too . . . don't forget that. When you play every night in front of an audience, you know what they want to hear. It's easier to write songs then. You know what I'm talking about?

Who do you think your current audience is? Who do YOU think you're selling records to? What kind of people?

Well, I don't know. When I go out on the road, I'll find out, won't I?

Did you get any indication of that from who showed up in the audience in Nashville?

No, they were just people. Just people I find every audience more or less the same, although you can have a certain attachment or disattachment for one because it may be bigger or smaller. But . . . people are just people.

Many people -- writers, college students, college writers -- all felt tremendously affected by your music and what you're saying in the lyrics.

Did they?

Sure. They felt it had a particular relevance to their lives . . . I mean, you must be aware of the way that people come on to you.

Not entirely. Why don't you explain to me.

I guess if you reduce it to its simplest terms, the expectation of your audience -- the portion of your audience that I'm familiar with -- feels that you have the answer.

What answer?

Like from the film. "Don't Look Back" -- people asking you "Why? What is it? Where is it?" People are tremendously hung-up on what you write and what you say, tremendously hung-up. Do you react to that at all? Do you feel responsible to those people?

I don't want to make anybody worry about it ... but boy, if I could ease someone's mind, I'd be the first one to do it. I want to lighten every load. Straighten out every burden. I don't want anybody to be hung-up . . . (laughs) especially over me, or anything I do. That's not the point at all.

Let me put it another way . . . what I'm getting at is that you're an extremely important figure in music and an extremely important figure in the experience of growing up today. Whether you put yourself in that position or not, you're in that position. And you must have thought about it . . . and I'm curious to know what you think about that. . .

What would I think about it? What can I do?

You wonder if you're really that person.

What person?

A great "youth leader". . .

If I thought I was that person, wouldn't I be out there doing it? Wouldn't I be, if I thought I was meant to do that, wouldn't I be doing it? I don't have to hold back. This Maharishi, he thinks that right? He's out there doing it. If I thought that, I'd be out there doing it. Don't you . . . you agree, right? So obviously, I don't think that.

What do you feel about unwillingly occupying that position?

I can see that position filled by someone else . . . not by ... the position you're speaking of ... I play music, man. I write songs. I have a certain balance about things, and I believe there should be an order to everything.

Underneath it all. I believe, also, that there are people trained for this job that you're talking about -- "youth leader" type of thing, you know? I mean, there must be people trained to do this type of work. And I'm just one person, doing what I do. Trying to get along...staying out of people's hair, that's all.

You've been also a tremendous influence on a lot of musicians and writers, they're very obviously affected by your style, the way you do things . . .

Who?

Well, somebody like Phil Ochs for example . . . a lot of people like that.

Phil Ochs, uh...was he around the same time I was, I remember when he came to town. He had his ... he was doing his "Stand Tall Billy Sol" type songs. I mean, he had it then. I think he made it, there being a certain amount of momentum --he pushed -- from being on the scene. But he did bring his own thing in, when he came in. He didn't -- as some people -- come in as a dishwasher, to dig some sounds and suddenly put down the broom, and pick up the guitar. You know what I mean?

I'm thinking also of other people who were singing before and playing the guitar.

Do you see any influence in the Motown? All those things that the Motown records are doing now? Like "Runaway Child" and those kind of things. I mean. Motown wasn't doing those kind of records a few years ago, were they? What do you think they're doing, Jann? Are they really sincere and all that kind of thing?

I think they're sincere about making good records, and they're going to sell a lot of them. I dig that. Do you like the Motown records?

Well, yeah ... I like them . . .

Do you like the ones today better than the ones that they were doing before?

Oh I have always liked the Motown records. Always. But because I like them so much, I see that change.

Have you got anything to do with that change?

Have I? Not that I know of.

Do you think that you've played any role in the change of popular music in the last four years?

I hope not. (laughs)

Well, a lot of people say you have.

(laughs) Well, you know. I'm not one to argue, (laughs).

There's a lot of talk about you and Albert Grossman. Your relationship with Albert Grossman, and whether he's going to continue to manage you.

Well . . . as far as I know, things will remain the same, until the length of our contract. And if we don't sign another contract, or if he does not have a hand in producing my next concerts or have a hand in any of my next work, it's only because he's too busy. 'Cause he's got so many acts now . . . it's so hard for him to be in all places all the time. I mean you know, it's the old story...you can't be in two places at once. That old story. You know what I mean?

When does your contract with him expire?

Sometime this year.

You were supposed to leave Columbia and sign with MGM? A million dollars...what happened to that?

It...went up in smoke.

Did you want a new label?

I didn't, no.

Who did?

I believe my advisors.

I take it you haven't had any recent trouble with Columbia, like you used to have in the beginning...

No...no.

Do you know approximately how many songs that you've recorded that have not been released? Like songs left over from recording John Wesley Harding or Blonde On Blonde? Do you have any idea how many?

Well, we try to use them all. There may be a few lying around.

What do you think was the best song, popular song, to come out last year?

Uhh...I like that one...of Creedence Clearwater Revival -- "Rolling On the River"?

Any others?

George Jones had one called "Small Town Laboring Man."

You've been very reluctant to talk to reporters, the press and so on....why is that?

Why would you think?

Well, I know why you won't go on those things.

Well, if you know why you tell 'em...'cause I find it hard to talk about. People don't understand how the press works. People don't understand that the press, they just use you to sell papers. And, in a certain way, that's not bad...but when they misquote you all the time, and when they just use you to fill in some story. And when you read it after, it isn't anything the way you pictured it happening. Well, anyhow, it hurts. It hurts because you think you were just played for a fool. And the more hurts you get, the less you want to do it. Ain't that correct?

Were there any writers that you met that you liked? That you felt did good jobs? Wrote accurate stories...

On what?

On you. For instance, I remember two big pieces -- one was in the New Yorker, by Nat Hentoff...

Yeah, I like 'em. I like that. In a way, I like 'em all. Whether I feel bad about 'em or not, in a way I like 'em all. I seldom get a kick out of them, Jann, but...I mean, I just can't be spending my time reading what people write, (laughter). I don't know anybody who can, do you?

Do you set aside a certain amount of time during the day to...how much of the day do you think about songwriting and playing the guitar?

Well, I try to get it when it comes. I play the guitar wherever I find one. But I try to write the song when it comes. I try to get it all...'cause if you don't get it all, you're not gonna get it. So the best kinds of songs you can write are in motel rooms and cars...places which are all temporary. 'Cause you're forced to do it. Rather, it lets you go into it.

You go into your kitchen and try to write a song, and you can't write a song -- I know people who do this -- I know some songwriters who go to work every day, at 8:30 and come home at 5:00. And usually bring something back...I mean, that's legal too. It just depends on...how you do it. Me, I don't have those kind of things known to me yet, so I just get 'em when they come. And when they don't come, I don't try for it.

There's been a lot of artists who have done your songs...songs that you have released and songs that you haven't released. Have you written any songs lately for any other artists to do, specifically for that artist? Or any of your old song.

I wrote "To Be Alone With You" -- that's on Nashville Skyline -- I wrote it for Jerry Lee Lewis. The one on Nashville Skyline. (Laughter.) He was down there when we were listening to the playbacks, and he came in. He was recording an album next door. He listened to it...I think we sent him a dub.

"Peggy Day," I kind of had the Mills Brothers in mind when I did that one (laughter).

Have you approached them yet. (Laughter.)

No, unfortunately, I haven't.

During what period of time did you write the songs on Nashville Skyline? During the month before you went down to do it or...

Yeah, about a month before we did it. That's why it seemed to be all connected.

You're going to do your next album in Nashville?

I don't know, Jann. I don't know where I'm gonna be doing the next album. Sometimes I envy the Beatles...they just go down to the studio, and play around ...I mean, you're bound to get a record. You know what I mean? Bound to get a record. Their studio is just a drive away...boy, I'd have an album out every month. I mean, how could you not?

Have you ever thought about getting four- or eight-track equipment up where you live?

Well, everyone's talking about that now. But it's just talk as far as I know. I would come to New York if I wanted to use the studio, because it's all here...if you need a good engineer, or if you need a song, or somebody to record it, an artist...whereas, some place like up in the country there, in the mountains, you could get a studio in, but that doesn't guarantee you anything else but the studio. You can get violin players, cello players, you can get dramatic readers ...you can get anybody at the drop of a hat, in New York City. I imagine it's that way over in London, where the Beatles make their records. Anything they want to put on their record, they just call up and it's there. I'd like to be in that position.

What do you look for when you make a record...I mean, what qualities, do you judge it by when you hear it played back?

Ummmm...for the spirit. I like to hear a good lick once in a while. Maybe it's the spirit...don't you think so? I mean, if the spirit's not there, it don't matter how good a song it is or...

What do you think of the current rock and roll groups doing all the country music?

Well, once again, it really doesn't matter what kind of music they do, just so long as people are making music. That's a good sign. There are certainly more people around making music than there was when I was growing up. I know that.

Do you find any that are particularly good -- country rock, or merely rock and roll bands, doing country material, using steel guitars?

As long as it sounds good...

Do any particular one of those groups appeal to you?

Who...who are in those groups? Oh, Flying Burrito Brothers . . . Boy, I love them ... the Flying Burrito Brothers, unh-huh. I've always known Chris, you know, from when he was in the Byrds. And he's always been a fine musician. Their records knocked me out. (laughs). That poor little hippie boy on his way to town .. . (laughs).

What about the Byrds...they did a country album ...

Sweetheart? Well, they had a distinctive sound, the Byrds...they usually were hanging in there...

Of all the versions of "This Wheel's On Fire," which do you like the best?

Uh...the Band's. Who else did it?

Julie Driscoll...the Byrds did it.

I remember hearing the Julie Driscoll one...I don't remember hearing the Byrds.

What was the origin of that collection of songs, of that tape?

The origin of it? What do you mean?

Where was that done?

Well that was done out in...out in somebody's basement. Just a basement tape. It was just for...

Did you do most, did you write most of those songs, those demos, for yourself?

Right.

And then decide against them?

No, they weren't demos for myself, they were demos of the songs. I was being PUSHED again...into coming up with some songs. So, you know...you know how those things go.

Do you have any artists in mind for any of those particular songs?

No. They were just fun to do. That's all. They were a kick to do. Fact, I'd do it all again. You know...that's really the way to do a recording -- in a peaceful, relaxed setting -- in somebody's basement. With the windows open.... and a dog lying on the floor.

Let me explain something about this interview. If you give one magazine an interview, then the other magazine wants an interview. If you give one to one, then the other one wants one. So pretty soon, you're in the interview business...you're just giving interviews. Well, as you know, this can really get you down. Doing nothing but giving interviews.

So the only way you can do it is to give press conferences. But you see, you have to have something to give a press conference about. Follow me? So that's why I don't give interviews. There's no mysterious reason to it, there's nothing organized behind it...it's just that if you give an interview to one magazine, then another one'll get mad.

Why have you chosen to do this interview?

'Cause this is a music paper. Why would I want to give an interview to Look magazine? Tell me, why?

I don't know...to sell records.

To sell records, I could do it. Right. But I have a gold record without doing it, do you understand me? Well, if I had to sell records, I'd be out there giving interviews to everybody. Don't you see? Mr. Clive Davis, he was president of Columbia Records, and he said he wouldn't be surprised if this last album sold a million units. Without giving one interview. Now you tell me, Jann, why am I going to go out and give an interview?

To get hassled...

Why would I want to go out and get hassled? If they're gonna pay me, I mean... who wants to do that. I don't.

Do you have any idea how much money your publishing has brought in over the last five years?

Well, now, that's difficult to answer because my songs are divided up into three, no, four companies. So there you have it. There you have it right there.

Which companies?

Well, I've got songs with Leeds Music. I've got songs with Whitmark Music. I've got a bunch of songs with Dwarf Music. I've got songs in Big Sky Music. So you see, my songs are divided up, so...

Do you own Big Sky Music wholly yourself?

It's my company. I chose to start this company.

If you put all the estimated income from those four companies together, or estimated gross income from publishing from those, it must be a considerable...

Not as much as the Beatles.

Yeah, but other than the Beatles?

Not as much as those writers from Motown.

Other than the writers from Motown...

You know there are many more musical organizations than me. They've got staffs of writers bringing in more money than you can dream of.

What songwriters do you like? Do you like any of the teams like Holland, Dozier, Holland or Hayes and Porter...

Yeh, I do. I know that fellow -- what's his name, Isaac Hayes? -- he does a real nice song called "The Other Woman." I believe that's the title to it. It's on his album. I think it's on his new one. I don't believe he wrote it, though.

Otis Redding was playing at the Whiskey A Go Go, a coupla years ago, you came in and talked to Otis. What was that all about?

He was gonna do "Just Like A Woman." I played him a dub of it. I think he mighta cut it for a demo...I don't think he ever recorded it, though. He was a fine man.

Why did you think "Just Like A Woman" would be a good song for him to do?

Well I didn't necessarily think it was a good song for him to do, but he asked me if I had any material. It just so happened that I had the dubs from my new album. So we went over and played it. I think he took a dub...that was the first and only time I ever met him.

I take it that you dug Otis real well. Are there any other soul singers that you dig as much as Otis?

You mean rhythm and blues pop? Well, you know I've always liked Mavis Staples ever since she was a little girl. She's always been my favorite...she's always had my favorite voice.

Have you heard, their new Star album?

I heard one of those...the ones they're doing with other people. Yeah, I heard that, that one that Pop Staples did. (laughs) It's ridiculous. Oh, Steve Cropper did do a nice song on that album...that he wrote, called "Water."

On his own album?

No, not on his own album. On the Jammed Together album. I find it interesting seeing...Mr. Staples being referred to as "Pop." (laughter)

Have you heard the Steve Cropper solo album?

Yeah, I heard that too.

Do you like that?

Sure. I've always dug Steve Cropper ... his guitar playing. Ever since the first Booker T. record. I heard that back in the Midwest. Yeah, everybody was playing like him.

What records of Oits' did you dig?

I've got one that contained that song where he was born in a tent by the river --(hums and sings) "A Change Is Gonna Come." Yeah, I like that one.

What is your day-to-day life like?

Hmmmm...there's no way I could explain that to you, Jann. Every day is different. Depends on what I'm doing.

Do you paint a lot?

Well, I may be fiddling around with the car or I may be painting a boat, or...possibly washing the windows. I just do what has to be done. I play a lot of music, when there's a call in...I'm always trying to put shows together, which never come about. I don't know what it is, but sometimes we get together and I say, "Okay, let's take six songs and do 'em up." So we do six songs, we got 'em in, let's say, 40 minutes...we got a stopwatch timing 'em. But I mean nothing happens to it. We could do anything with it, but I mean...

Boy, I hurried...I hurried for a long time. I'm sorry I did. All the time you're hurrying, you're not really as aware as you should be. You're trying to make things happen instead of just letting it happen. You follow me?

That's the awkwardness of this interview.

Well, I don't find anything awkward about it. I think it's going real great.

The purpose of any interview is to let the person who's being interviewed unload his head.

Well, that's what I'm doing.

And trying to draw that out is...

Boy, that's a good...that'd be a great title for a song. "Unload my head. Going down to the store...going down to the corner to unload my head." I'm gonna write that up when I get back, (laughter) "Going to Tallahassee to unload my head."

What do you think can happen with your career as a singer?

What are the possibilities?

Go on the road, continue to make records...for instance, do you foresee continuing to make records?

If they're enjoyable. I'm going to have to receive a certain amount of enjoyment out of my work pretty soon. I'd like to keep a little closer to the studios than I am now. It's awful hard for me to make records when I've got to go 4,000 miles away, you know? Like I say, when you do have these companies around who're just there to serve...

Are you thinking of moving to Nashville? I mean that would be...

Well, if I moved to Nashville, I'd still have to book studio time, wouldn't I?

But still, you'd have the accessibility of the session men and the engineers...

That's true. But I'd have to do everything with that same sound, wouldn't I? I couldn't really use a variety of techniques.

Can you see a time when you would stop making records?

Well, let's put it this way: making a record isn't any more than just recording a song, for me. Well, that's what it's been up 'til now. Not necessarily going into the studio for any other reason than to record a song. So, if I was to stop writing songs, I would stop recording. Or let's say, if I was to stop singing, I guess I would stop recording, But I don't forsee that. I'll be recording, 'cause that's a way for me to unload my head.

********* There's a cat named Alan Weberman who writes in the East Village "Other." He calls himself the world's leading Dylanologist. You know him?

No...oh, yes, I did. Is this the guy who tears up all my songs? Well, I saw something he wrote about "All Along the Watchtower," and boy let me tell you, this boy's off. Not only did he create some type of fantasy -- he had Allen Ginsberg in there -- he couldn't even hear the words to the song right. He didn't hear the song right. Can you believe that? I mean this fellow couldn't hear the words...or something. I bet he's a hard working fellow, though. I bet he really does a good job if he could find something to do but it's too bad it's just my songs, 'cause I don't really know if there's enough material in my songs to sustain someone who is really out to do a big job. You understand what I mean?

I mean a fellow like that would be much better off writing about Tolstoy, or Dostoevesky, or Freud...doing a really big analysis of somebody who has countless volumes of writings. But here's me, just a few records out. Somebody devoting so much time to those few records, when there's such a wealth of material that hasn't even been touched yet, or hasn't even been heard or read... that escapes me. Does it escape you?

I understand putting time into it, but I read this, in this East Village Other, I read it...and it was clever. And I got a kick out of reading it (laughter) on some level, but I didn't want to think anybody was taking it too seriously. You follow me?

He's just representative of thousands of people who do take it seriously.

Well, that's their own business. Why don't I put it that way. That's their business and his business. But...I'm the source of that and I don't know if it's my business or not, but I'm the source of it. You understand? So I see it a little differently than all of them do.

People in your audience, they obviously take it very seriously, and they look to you for something...

Well, I wouldn't be where I am today without them. So, I owe them ... my music, which I would be playing for them.

Does the intensity of some of the response annoy you?

No. No, I rather enjoy it.

I'm trying to get back to the thing about being a symbol of youth culture, being a spokesman for youth culture...what're your opinions or thoughts on that?

At some point you pick up the paper or the magazine and find out that this is happening and you know that you're considered like this. That people are watching you for that...and you've got to say to yourself, "Am I hung-up?" Well, not any more than anybody else is, who performs in public. I mean, everyone has his following.

What do you think your following is like?

Well, I think there are all kinds . . . I imagine they're . . . you would probably know just as much about that as I would. You know, they're all kinds of people. I remember when I used to do concerts, you couldn't pin 'em down. All the road managers and the sound equipment carriers, and even the truck drivers would notice how different the audiences were, in terms of individual people. How different they . . . like sometimes I might have a concert and all the same kind of people show up, I mean, what does that mean?

What do you see yourself as -- a poet, a singer, a rock and roll star, married man...

All of those. I see myself as it all. Married man, poet, singer, songwriter, custodian, gatekeeper ... all of it. I'll be it all. I feel "confined" when I have to choose one or the other. Don't you?

[Excerpt From Issue 47 — November 29, 1969]


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RS 47, Nov. 29, 1969


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