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| Ten Thousand Motels |
...who would you put behind him? |
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| Nellcote |
Mick Ronson-guitar
T-Bone Burnett-guitar
Jim Keltner-drums
Ian McLagan-organ
Rob Stoner-bass
Joan Baez-backup vocals
Scarlet Rivera-violin |
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| Ten Thousand Motels |
SIDEBAR
Geesh Nellcotte the Cubs humbled the Red Sox. |
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| Nellcote |
Yeah, but Ortiz has their number, with 2 homahs.
Hard to fathom though last year at this time Sox had 2 pitchers who were 16-4 combined, but it is early yet.
Cubs are still chasing the goat,Bartman and wondering when Nomah will return.. |
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| Ten Thousand Motels |
On violin? Those chicks from Bond aren't so bad on the fiddles. I could be talked into at least giving them an audition. But NO promises.
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| justinkurian |
Just saw this in the NY Times...it mentions the Stones and look who wrote it.
June 12, 2005
Dylan Gives the People What He Wants
By BILL WYMAN
THE theater, 70 miles north of Lansing, Mich., was big and boomy and boxy, and a third empty. The fans sat, six to a side, at long tables perpendicular to the stage. A few dozen yards away, slot machines jangled, lights flashed, cards snapped. Onstage, the frail-looking singer hunched over the keyboard and bleated out a tune that the patient audience strained to recognize. The singer, dressed as he always is in courtly dark garb, said little to the audience, though once or twice he emerged from behind the keyboard to play a harmonica solo from center stage.
The place was the Soaring Eagle Casino and Resort, and it was an odd rock 'n' roll show. But it was the kind of show and the kind of site that Bob Dylan has increasingly made his own.
Mr. Dylan, 64, plays big cities, of course. (In April he played five nights in Manhattan.) But more and more, he is choosing stranger settings: state fairs, corporate events, urban street fairs and casinos (from Indian casinos like the Turning Stone in Verona, N.Y., and the Soaring Eagle to more traditional ones in Las Vegas and Reno). He is now in the middle of his second summer barnstorming tour of minor-league baseball fields, like the Osceola County Stadium in Kissimmee, Fla., with Willie Nelson in tow.
Mr. Dylan may be in the final phase of his long and iconoclastic life as a star, and for it he has chosen a very long and very iconoclastic tour: 1,700 shows and counting, beginning in 1988. Caught in an artistic crisis then, he decided to defibrillate his career and go back on the road. Accompanied by a small combo, he reintroduced himself to fans, sporting a lean energy and a commitment to exploring his nonpareil song catalog. He shows no signs of slowing down, though he has lately replaced the guitar he has played for more than 45 years with a keyboard, causing speculation that back problems might be responsible for the switch. (Through Mr. Dylan's publicist at Columbia Records, his management said playing keyboards was "just his musical preference" and declined to comment otherwise for this article.) Mr. Dylan has turned his act into one of the weirdest road shows in rock. He rarely speaks to the crowd, and when he does, his remarks are often gnomic throwaways. ("I had a big brass bed, but I sold it!") He plays some of his best-known songs, but often in contrarian, almost unrecognizable versions, as if to dampen their anthemic qualities. He highlights recent compositions more than most of his 60's coevals, but these, too, are delivered as highly stylized, singsongy chants. He strives to play as many kinds of places as possible, even playing successive nights in different theaters and clubs in large cities.
In other words, Mr. Dylan seems to have developed an unparalleled commitment to sharing his art, but only on his own very specific terms.
Of course, a hundred shows a year is not unheard of in the rock world; some well-known figures, Mr. Nelson and B. B. King among them, play even more shows than Mr. Dylan. But no performer of similar stature has exhibited his decades-spanning commitment to the stage. Acts like Bruce Springsteen, the Rolling Stones and U2 tend to tour every two or three years as part of a grandly themed marketing package, complete with a new album, an intricate publicity strategy, tractor trailers to carry their massive stage sets; later there is souvenir bric-a-brac like a live album or an HBO special for later DVD release.
Mr. Dylan does none of that. There are no themes, little publicity and no tractor trailers; he just plays shows. The writer Paul Williams, who founded Crawdaddy, arguably the first rock magazine, in 1966, said Mr. Dylan's focus had moved away from recording in the last few decades. "This is his art form," he said, "the performing."
These shows have none of the strict choreography of the modern rock concert. Major touring acts will charge hundreds of dollars for a tightly scripted performance, with one or two opportunities for spontaneity. By contrast, Mr. Dylan's small ensemble plays confidently during each set's few anchors, but watches somewhat warily during the rest of the show, as Mr. Dylan decides which part of his huge repertory to sample next.
"He would do anything from old folk songs, Civil War-era songs, up to standards," said the guitarist G. E. Smith, who played with Mr. Dylan at the start of what has become known as the Never-Ending Tour. "I remember once, we were playing in Hollywood, and he played 'Moon River.' "
UNLIKE some of his peers, Mr. Dylan doesn't seem to be motivated primarily by money. His ticket prices average a bit over $40, according to Gary Bongiovanni, editor of the concert industry magazine Pollstar; that's significantly below the industry average. "Bob is one guy who's realized it's not all about the money," said Jerry Mickleson, of Jam Productions in Chicago. "It's about making music and making people happy. It's not about charging $100 a ticket."
For the Bob and Willie tour, in 2004, he added, tickets were $45. This year, they were $49.50.
Still, finances may play a part in Mr. Dylan's touring strategy. Casino shows are highly remunerative; the Soaring Eagle had an uncharacteristically high $150 top ticket price, reflecting a high upfront fee for the artist. He will never starve, but Mr. Dylan did not come out of the 1960's and 70's with what could be called McCartney money. Howard Sounes, in his Dylan biography, "Down the Highway," writes that Mr. Dylan has had four generations of Zimmermans and Dylans to house at various times, besides two wives and, it seems, the odd mistress. If Mr. Dylan plays 100 shows a year before 4,000 fans at an average price of $40 a ticket, he may walk away with more than $5 million profit. And of course, that's on top of the million or so albums he sells a year.
Yet money doesn't fully explain the restless nature of the touring, and it certainly doesn't explain Mr. Dylan's refusal to give the audience what it wants to hear, his casual approach to publicity, the small clubs or the costs involved in playing at different sites in the same city. For some of his 1960's peers, whose tours can gross in the nine figures, it's hardly worth leaving the Hamptons for $5 million.
One clue to what Mr. Dylan is doing may be found in the liner notes to "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan," one of his early albums: "I don't carry myself yet the way that Big Joe Williams, Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly and Lightnin' Hopkins have carried themselves," he said. "I hope to be able to someday, but they're older people. I sometimes am able to do it, but it happens, when it happens, unconsciously." These figures aren't merely musical heroes; they're also counterpoints to Mr. Dylan's casually decadent rock star peers, who happily cater to their fans' demands. Unlike them, Mr. Dylan offers the audience only what he thinks they should want: an opportunity to see an artist work.
He has even become something of a proselytizer for the road's healing powers. A call from Mr. Dylan encouraged the singer Patti Smith to go back on the road after a 16-year hiatus. "He told me I should share what I do with the people," she said. "I think that resonates with his philosophy."
The journey Mr. Dylan is on has eerie premonitions in his songs, nowhere more so than in "Like a Rolling Stone," whose refrain of "no direction home" can sound both ominous and triumphant. "I think when he sang 'no direction home,' he's talking about being lost, kind of a stranger in a strange land," Mr. Williams said. "And then ironically, it's how he chooses to live his life."
Jonathan Cott, the author of "Dylan," said: "I've thought about it, and I know it's a cliché, but I think he finds himself on the road - 'finds' in both senses of the word. I think for him the goal is the road."
There is a final issue, and a more sensitive one, given the singer's penchant for privacy. Beyond his relatively well-chronicled relationship with his first wife, Sara, little is known about his private life. Until very recently, biographers were unfamiliar with the basic details of his family, and many fans don't know that Mr. Dylan was married for a second time, in the '80's, to one of his gospel-era backup singers, with whom he had a child.
The question, bluntly put, is what Mr. Dylan is running away from, or to. At the height of his fame, in the late 60's, he famously took himself off the road for almost seven years to raise a family in something approximating peace. What personal demons could compel a man to spend his late 40's, then his entire 50's and now his 60's, away from home?
"Is it running away or finding your own path?" Mr. Cott asked. "I don't know."
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| TheSavageYoungXyzzy |
Holy shit, I read that article but didn't notice the name...
...waitaiminute, isn't there a reporter named Bill Wyman that isn't our Bill? I seem to remember similar confusion before.
Anyhow, Bob is the man so this requires some thought.
Bob Dylan - Vocals, guitar, piano, harmonica
Jack White (The White Stripes)- Guitar, piano, backing vocals
Craig Fox (The Greenhornes) - Guitar, backing vocals
Jack Bruce (Cream) - Bass, backing vocals
Charlie Watts (The Rolling Stones) - Drums
Fox is a steady rhythm guitarist with some great licks in his head, Jack White's got that awesome screeching lead power that'd benefit the harder rockers but's very capable of playing acoustic songs, Jack Bruce can make things up on the fly with reckless abandon, and it's impossible to go wrong with Charlie. |
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| Martha |
Does anyone have access to last night's set list? We were at the Greensboro show and song number two totally stumped us. The set has not been posted at Pagel's site so I am at a complete loss. Lazy......anyone?
The show was wonderful. Bob did not wear his hat until the encore. He had a brand new haircut.
Savage I like your line-up and would include Elana Fremerman to it for my liking. |
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| FPM C10 |
quote:
Martha wrote:
Does anyone have access to last night's set list? We were at the Greensboro show and song number two totally stumped us.
Ramona, come closer,
Shut softly your watery eyes.
The pangs of your sadness
Shall pass as your senses will rise.
The flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike at times.
And there's no use in tryin'
T' deal with the dyin',
Though I cannot explain that in lines.
Your cracked country lips,
I still wish to kiss,
As to be under the strength of your skin.
Your magnetic movements
Still capture the minutes I'm in.
But it grieves my heart, love,
To see you tryin' to be a part of
A world that just don't exist.
It's all just a dream, babe,
A vacuum, a scheme, babe,
That sucks you into feelin' like this.
I can see that your head
Has been twisted and fed
By worthless foam from the mouth.
I can tell you are torn
Between stayin' and returnin'
On back to the South.
You've been fooled into thinking
That the finishin' end is at hand.
Yet there's no one to beat you,
No one t' defeat you,
'Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad.
I've heard you say many times
That you're better 'n no one
And no one is better 'n you.
If you really believe that,
You know you got
Nothing to win and nothing to lose.
From fixtures and forces and friends,
Your sorrow does stem,
That hype you and type you,
Making you feel
That you must be exactly like them.
I'd forever talk to you,
But soon my words,
They would turn into a meaningless ring.
For deep in my heart
I know there is no help I can bring.
Everything passes,
Everything changes,
Just do what you think you should do.
And someday maybe,
Who knows, baby,
I'll come and be cryin' to you.
As far as "if Bob Dylan was a front man" - he is a front man, although he often does it sideways.
I guess my dream band for Bob would be Tony Garnier on bass, and an endless succession of drummers and guitarists who also play mandolin or pedal steel or other more exotic stringed instruments. That would be sweet.
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| Sir Stonesalot |
LOL Flea!
I had the EXACT same thought when I saw that question! IF Bob Dylan were to front a band? WTF has he been doing since he plugged in?
Bob is a pretty good judge. He seems to pick people who fit what he needs at any given time. I'll let Bob pick who he wants. I trust him. |
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| Water Dragon |
I agree SSAL, Bob IS A Front Man...if T-T-M is allowing for the dead to be included I think you would have to include Woody Guthrie, Johnny Cash, and of course, Brian Jones as part of his ever-changing retinue. Robert Johnson might want to sit in just to show what can be done with an acoustic guitar! :-) |
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| Rutger |
No question, the Band. |
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| Child of the Moon |
If we could somehow get the classic Band back together, then there we go.
But I also like the one with Jack White. |
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| telecaster |
quote:
Ten Thousand Motels wrote:
...who would you put behind him?
A very large pot of very strong coffee
ZZZzzzzzz.... |
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| Ten Thousand Motels |
quote:
Sir Stonesalot wrote:
LOL Flea!
I had the EXACT same thought when I saw that question! IF Bob Dylan were to front a band? WTF has he been doing since he plugged in?
Quit nitpicking! You all know what I meant. I think. Damn I'm so misunderstood.  |
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| glencar |
He loves to play ticky tacky casinos these days. |
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| gypsy |
quote:
Martha wrote:
Savage I like your line-up and would include Elana Fremerman to it for my liking.
I want to BE Elena Fremerman. Not only is she talented and gorgeous, but she gets to jam with Bob!
I could die and go to heaven if I could be Elena for just one night. |
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| Sir Stonesalot |
>He loves to play ticky tacky casinos these days.<
Yeah, and minor league baseball parks too. But mostly small to mid-sized theatres.
And yet even a double bill with Willie Nelson, tickets STILL haven't reached the $50.00 mark. And he still rakes in boatloads of cash.
Gypsy...you are every bit as talented and gorgeous as Elena. You talents are just different than hers. And in a perfect world...your talents would be worth more than hers.
PS. I got a new puppy. A Boxer/Bull Terrier mix. Some fuckhead abandoned them at the fire house across the street from where I work. So I took one home with me. He is a fierce little bastard! I named him Bubba. I'll e you a pic as soon as I take some! |
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| gypsy |
quote:
Sir Stonesalot wrote:
>He loves to play ticky tacky casinos these days.<
Yeah, and minor league baseball parks too. But mostly small to mid-sized theatres.
And yet even a double bill with Willie Nelson, tickets STILL haven't reached the $50.00 mark. And he still rakes in boatloads of cash.
Gypsy...you are every bit as talented and gorgeous as Elena. You talents are just different than hers. And in a perfect world...your talents would be worth more than hers.
PS. I got a new puppy. A Boxer/Bull Terrier mix. Some fuckhead abandoned them at the fire house across the street from where I work. So I took one home with me. He is a fierce little bastard! I named him Bubba. I'll e you a pic as soon as I take some!
Thanks, SS. I'm flattered.
I bet Bubba is adorable. I'm so glad you took him in. I'd have done the same thing. You have to e me a pic when you get the chance. I bet SS jr. really likes little Bubba.
That breed of dog is good with children. Awww, that's so sweet.
I can't stand fuckwits who don't spay or neuter their pets, and then leave litters of puppies out in the country or wherever they feel like it. |
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| Martha |
quote:
Sir Stonesalot wrote:
>He loves to play ticky tacky casinos these days.<
Yeah, and minor league baseball parks too. But mostly small to mid-sized theatres.
And yet even a double bill with Willie Nelson, tickets STILL haven't reached the $50.00 mark. And he still rakes in boatloads of cash.
Gypsy...you are every bit as talented and gorgeous as Elena. You talents are just different than hers. And in a perfect world...your talents would be worth more than hers.
PS. I got a new puppy. A Boxer/Bull Terrier mix. Some fuckhead abandoned them at the fire house across the street from where I work. So I took one home with me. He is a fierce little bastard! I named him Bubba. I'll e you a pic as soon as I take some!
Do you know what happened to Elana perchance Stonesy or Flea? I really miss seeing her on stage with Bob. He was flirting his ass off with her. :-)
New puppy? I have another cat because he was abandoned by his OWNERS when they moved from across the street last August. He is a huge orange tabby Tom cat and he had been DECLAWED.....they left him to fookin' die for crap's sake. I was furious about that and immediatey took him in. He's a big baby so sweet and loving we adore him. Named him Cat!
Sheesh they left him there like nothin'......I don't get people.
Let's ROCK!
xxoo,
MM |
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| gypsy |
quote:
Martha wrote:
Do you know what happened to Elana perchance Stonesy or Flea? I really miss seeing her on stage with Bob. He was flirting his ass off with her. :-)
New puppy? I have another cat because he was abandoned by his OWNERS when they moved from across the street last August. He is a huge orange tabby Tom cat and he had been DECLAWED.....they left him to fookin' die for crap's sake. I was furious about that and immediatey took him in. He's a big baby so sweet and loving we adore him. Named him Cat!
Sheesh they left him there like nothin'......I don't get people.
Let's ROCK!
xxoo,
MM
She sure put a smile on Bob's face, didn't she?!
Bless you for taking in the abandoned cat, Martha. People are so cruel. |
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| Phog |
Nice work SS and Martha. People that do shit like that to animals should be beaten. Cocksuckers. |
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| Sir Stonesalot |
Martha...
I don't know for sure why she left. I'd guess that she wants to do stuff with her own band.
Now...for the perfect Bob backing band. I have given this SERIOUS consideration. After much deliberation, I have decided that the perfect backing unit for Bob Dylan is....THE MC5!!!
Think about it....
Heh heh heh. |
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| Soldatti |
Bob Dylan: Vocals, guitar, harmonica
Jack Bruce: Bass
Ginger Baker: Drums |
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