Bob Dylan's Idiot Wind marks his re-emergence, 1975

When Bob Dylan went to ground in 1966, it would be eight years before he returned to live performance. Eight momentous years, during which the singer's words became entwined with astonishing events - freedom marches, assassinations, the war in Vietnam, the moon landings.

The poet and author Daniel Mark Epstein witnessed Dylan's return to the stage at Madison Square Garden in 1974. He had last seen Dylan perform live in 1963.

"Since then, his words had become prophetic."

And now, "Bob Dylan returned to the spotlight, with his guitar and harmonica, riding waves of applause. He launched into 'The Times They Are A-Changin'' and the audience cheered as they recognised the words."

Dylan getting used to playing live again, 1974

Come gather round people wherever you roam
And admit that waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.

But Dylan was nervous, understandably after such a long period away from the stage. He sang at a breakneck speed, "as if he couldn't wait to put it behind him, with all that burden of personal and shared history." 

As the set progressed though, he warmed to his task, resurrecting many of his most iconic songs and showing that he still had the fire in his belly; his ability to memorise lyrics in full display.

Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child's balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon

It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding runs to 113 lines and almost 700 words. The darkness at the edge of noon is a metaphor for mankind's interference with nature. Dylan takes aim at the pillars of society and, in a radical lyrical change, received with great applause, he takes aim at Richard Nixon, at the time accused of criminal conspiracy to steal secrets from his political opponents.

"...even the President of the United States, sometimes must have to stand naked"

Dylan's last studio album, Planet Waves, was a collection of pleasant songs, including one genuine contender in Forever Young. But fans still yearned for the poetry and social conscience that marked Dylan out as the voice of a generation in the 1960s.

The 1974 concerts with The Band showed Dylan where he needed to be. As his cosy family life dissolved and he embraced his music fully once again, he produced a masterpiece.

Blood On The Tracks contains some beautiful, graceful songs of love lost, tender moments shared and trust betrayed. It's arguably his most romantic album, apart from perhaps Blonde On Blonde, but it's also in parts his most angry.

Idiot Wind is the centrepiece song from side one. It's the tale of a man misunderstood, interwoven with bitterness and personal attacks on a former lover.

With typical obtuseness, Dylan denied the lyrics are in any way autobiographical, but it is very hard to believe him, given the proximity to his break up with wife Sara, and the sheer bile he invests in the lyrics.

On Idiot Wind, a poison pen letter to an estranged lover and confidante, Dylan lashes out at his partner and laments his predicament as a misunderstood public figure.

"People see me all the time, and they just can't remember how to act."

The line, "I haven't known peace and quiet, for so long I can't remember what it's like," is so pointedly personal it's hard to believe he isn't talking about himself.

Domestic bliss in Woodstock

He then seems to acknowledge that despite his life of family contentment, he wasn't cut out for it:
"You tamed the lion in my cage, but it just wasn't enough to change my heart."

So much anger and hate in these lines, it feels like intruding on private grief:

"I can't feel you anymore
I can't even touch the books you've read"

And the final dismissal:

"I've been double-crossed now
For the very last time and now I'm finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast
On the borderline which separated you from me
You'll never know the hurt I suffered
Nor the pain I rise above
And I'll never know the same about you
Your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry."

Idiot Wind....

Great songs and all, truly, but the reason I think Blood On The Tracks was so successful artistically and commercially, was that it was relatable. Anyone who has gone through a bitter break-up could empathise with the protagonist of Idiot Wind. The anger and spite in that song is not typical of the remainder of the album, which has some of the most romantic and heart-felt songs in Dylan's entire repertoire. Who amongst us cannot relate to the emotions expressed in "If You See Her, Say Hello" or "Simple Twist of Fate"?

Is it wrong to get enjoyment from a famous artist dissing their ex so publicly? The answer lies in how we project ourselves onto these words.

The clip featured here is from the second leg of the RollingThunder Revue tour - the 1976 stadium tour rather than the small club tour featured in Martin Scorsese's movie. 

This clip, while not of the greatest visual quality, packs a punch on the musical front. The band gives the song a bouncier feel but there is nothing bouncy about Dylan's delivery. It captures the anger of the recorded version very well, which is perhaps a reflection that has reconciliation with Sara around this time wasn't working out. 

The recording is from a TV special aired in September 1976 but dating from May 23 in Fort Collins, Colorado. It was the penultimate show of the Rolling Thunder tour. Reviews at the time noted how the initial charm of Dylan's travelling show had largely worn off. This performance was also released as part of the Hard Rain live album. Apart from bassist and band leader Rob Stoner, the band at this late stage of the tour consisted of T-Bone Burnett, Steven Soles and David Mansfield on guitar, Scarlet Rivera on violin and Gary Burke on drums.

Someone's got it in for me
They're planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they'd cut it out quick
But when they will I can only guess
They say I shot a man named Gray
And took his wife to Italy
She inherited a million bucks
And when she died it came to me
I can't help it if I'm lucky

People see me all the time
And they just can't remember how to act
Their minds are filled with big ideas
Images and distorted facts
Even you, yesterday
You had to ask me where it was at
I couldn't believe after all these years
You didn't know me better than that
Sweet lady

Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your mouth
Blowing down the back roads headin' south
Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot, babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

I ran into the fortune-teller
Who said, "beware of lightning that might strike"
I haven't known peace and quiet
For so long I can't remember what it's like

There's a lone soldier on the cross
Smoke pourin' out of a boxcar door
You didn't know it, you didn't think it could be done
In the final end he won the wars
After losin' every battle

I woke up on the roadside
Daydreamin' 'bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare
Shoot through my head and are makin' me see stars
You hurt the ones that I love best
And cover up the truth with lies
One day you'll be in the ditch
Flies buzzin' around your eyes
Blood on your saddle

Idiot wind
Blowing through the flowers on your tomb
Blowing through the curtains in your room
Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot, babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

It was gravity which pulled us down
And destiny which broke us apart
You tamed the lion in my cage
But it just wasn't enough to change my heart

Now everything's a little upside down
As a matter of fact the wheels have stopped
What's good is bad, what's bad is good
You'll find out when you reach the top
You're on the bottom

I noticed at the ceremony
Your corrupt ways had finally made you blind
I can't remember your face anymore
Your mouth has changed
Your eyes don't look into mine

The priest wore black on the seventh day
And sat stone-faced while the building burned
I waited for you on the running boards
Near the cypress trees, while the springtime turned
Slowly into autumn

Idiot wind
Blowing like a circle around my skull
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol
Idiot wind
Blowing every time you move your teeth
You're an idiot, babe
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe

I can't feel you anymore
I can't even touch the books you've read
Every time I crawl past your door
I been wishin' I was somebody else instead

Down the highway, down the tracks
Down the road to ecstasy
I followed you beneath the stars
Hounded by your memory
And all your ragin' glory

I been double-crossed now
For the very last time and now I'm finally free
I kissed goodbye the howling beast
On the borderline which separated you from me

You'll never know the hurt I suffered
Nor the pain I rise above
And I'll never know the same about you
Your holiness or your kind of love
And it makes me feel so sorry

Idiot wind
Blowing through the buttons of our coats
Blowing through the letters that we wrote
Idiot wind
Blowing through the dust upon our shelves
We're idiots, babe
It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves

- Bob Dylan 1975

Also on this blog:

Bob and Joan and Scarlett and Joni... The Rolling Thunder Revue

Joan Baez, Bob Dylan - I Shall Be Released - RollingThunder Revue, 1975

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan's artistic peak in the 1960s

A Complete Unknown - movie trailer

A Complete Unknown featurette

Bob Dylan & Joan Baez - It Ain't Me Babe (Live 1964)

Joan performs Dylan's Percy's Song, 1965

Bob Dylan & Joan Baez - 2009 Documentary

Bob and Joan chat about their relationship, 1975

The Lady Who Edited Woodstock

Michael Wadleigh filming Richie Havens

I'm kind of obsessed with the 1969 Woodstock Festival. Not just the movie and the music, but how the event came together in bizarre circumstances - how it was both a triumph and a disaster. Perish the thought, but if I was ever to appear on the quiz show Mastermind, this would be my specialist subject.

Here's a wonderful story from someone who was right there in 1969.

My favourite podcast is This Cultural Life on BBC Sounds. Fascinating interviews by John Wilson with artists, writers and film-makers and not one that I haven’t enjoyed over about 50 episodes. In this episode, Wilson interviewed renowned film editor Thelma Schoonmaker, who has worked closely with Martin Scorsese for over 50 years.

Marty and Thelma in 1969

Thelma, now 85, reveals the process of working with Scorsese in the cutting room and how, through him, she met her late husband Michael Powell, whose films with Emeric Pressburger, both she and Scorsese had so admired from childhood.

The most remarkable part of the interview for me - and my long-held fascination with Woodstock - is when Thelma recalls how she and Scorsese were part of the filming and editing team on the Woodstock festival movie, for which she received her first Oscar nomination for Best Film Editing - the first documentary ever to be nominated in that category.

She tells how the team of documentary makers acquired a new editing machine that would allow them to have three images displayed at once. “We thought, why don’t we make a movie like this," said Schoonmaker. 

Thelma with Wadleigh and the editing team

"With great bravery, Michael Wadleigh, the director, decided to go for broke and spend his own money to get us all up at Woodstock, filming. That was just an amazing experience."

What they encountered at the site of the festival was not what they had expected.

"We had rented motel rooms. We thought we would drive back there after the evening performances. But we couldn’t even get out. It was jammed with traffic and people. So for three days we didn’t have a place to sleep. We slept on the ground – tics in our hair – no food. Every once in a while, someone would come up with a frankfurter, if you were lucky."

"Marty felt we were going to be able to go out to dinner. He had brought cufflinks."

"The Who kicked us off the stage"

Although Woodstock was an ordeal, they found it tremendously exciting as the festival unfolded, with a bonded crowd of 400,000 young people entertained by many of the greatest acts of the 1960s. The film-makers' challenge was how to document it as closely as possible, in very difficult conditions.

"We had six cameramen on the stage; 15 out in the audience. We had no idea what we were getting. We were hoping it was OK because we couldn’t send the film out to be developed," said Schoonmaker.

"The main cameraman was Michael Wadleigh, who was looking through a lens for three days solid – no sleep, no food – doing these amazing shots of people like The Who."

Scorsese at Woodstock

Scorsese was helping Wadleigh decide what songs to shoot and negotiating with managers for the rights to do it. Sometimes they would get kicked off the stage.

"The Who actually kicked us off the stage, but then they didn’t even notice – they were putting on such a great show - that we snuck back on."

Thelma was mainly underneath the stage, trying to load the film magazines. "It was raining a lot and the cameras were jamming, so they would throw the magazine under the stage and we would try and reload it. It was a mammoth, absolutely back-breaking job, but so exciting.

“The great moment was the last day. It was dawn; we had been shooting all night, again. We were completely exhausted and then Jimi Hendrix came on. I thought, is this really him, or am I dreaming? And he did this incredible job of playing The Star Spangled Banner and massacre-ing it to show what was happening in Vietnam. It was a transformative moment.”

Hendrix performing to a thinned-out crowd

And then suddenly, it was all over.

"Everyone had left and there was just mud and detritus everywhere. We packed up and on the way home we stopped and ate. Michael Wadleigh was so tired his head just crashed into his spaghetti. When I got home, I had big whelts on my pants because I’d been wearing the same thing for three days.

In the BBC interview, John Wilson points to the visceral excitement that comes across in the movie, which Schoonmaker says was helped by the fact that she, as the editor, was there and she knew how it felt.

“Of course, we hadn’t seen all the footage we had of the people who were out in the field. There were so many wonderful interviews that we didn’t even know we had."

However, Warner Brothers were not interested in the film. "They said it’s a news event, just get it out quickly. We said no, you don’t understand, we have something very special here; a breakthrough in how to film festivals, how to film music."

It took an act of thievery to prevent them from cutting the movie back.

"A breakthrough in how to film music"

"We were supposed to bring the movie to New York City to show the press. Warner Bros were saying you have to cut the movie, you have to cut it down; we said no.

"Dale Bell, who was one of the producers, and I, stole the soundtrack from the vaults, to keep them from cutting it. So they had no choice but to send the version we wanted to New York.

"They had Pinkerton guards in the projection booth. I wasn’t allowed to go in, because they knew we had stolen the tracks. At one point I was standing watching the press reviewers and they were getting up and dancing in the aisles, which I’ve never seen. So we knew we had something special."

As the credits rolled, Ted Ashley, the head of Warners Bros, came up and touched Thelma on the shoulder. "OK, you’re right," he said. "We won’t cut it."

My Woodstock 50th Anniversary Diary

Also on this blog:

2-Tone and possibly my best gig ever

Queen's 1976 Free Concert in Hyde Park

Memories of the Reading Festival, 1975

Five Days of High Drama at the Isle of Wight, 1970

From Pinner to LA - Elton's Big Breakthrough, 1970

A Wizard, A True Star - my all-time favourite album

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan's Artistic Peak in the 1960s

 Joni Mitchell - The Hissing of Summer Lawns