Bob Dylan – Subterranean Homesick Blues – Stream of consciousness poetry – driving riff.

Posted on by Opher

This is another of my all-time Dylan favourites. Following the love affair with Guthrie, leading to him developing his own plethora of songs of social comment, Dylan changed direction.

Under the thrall of the Beat Generation his developed a stream of consciousness poetry that was like spitting bullets. It was hard-edged and took that social message into a tougher more hip context. Coupled with this was a changed of image that was to lead to the polka-dot hipster in shades. With Ginsberg in the background he held up the cards in the alley that illustrated the song. The riff was like a manic Chuck Berry – Too Much Monkey Business on speed – and the song raged – a diatribe about society and the alternative culture straight out of Kerouac’s pocket. There was nowhere to hide. Society had you. You’re gonna be enslaved.

“Subterranean Homesick Blues”

Johny’s in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I’m on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in a trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he’s got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It’s somethin’ you did
God knows when
But you’re doin’ it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin’ for a new friend
A man in a coon-skin cap
In a pig pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten.

Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin’ that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phone’s tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the DA
Look out kid
Don’t matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don’t tie no bows
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Wash the plain clothes
You don’t need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows.

Get sick, get well
Hang around an ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything’s gonna sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write Braille
Get jailed, jump bail Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You’re gonna get hit
But losers, cheaters
Six-time users
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool is
Lookin’ for a new fool
Don’t follow leaders
Watch the parkin’ meters.

Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don’t steal, don’t lift
Twenty years of schoolin’
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don’t wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don’t wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don’t work
‘Cause the vandals took the handles.

Bob Dylan – Subterranean Homesick Blues – lyrics straight out of Beat stream of consciousness.

Posted on by Opher

This song was a major departure for Bob and a completely different sound to anyone had ever heard before.

He left the Folk behind and went electric and did it in style. This was no mere amplification; this was a complete new sound to go with his new type of lyrics.

He kept the same story-telling but this Bob was cool, sharp, hip and raging with energy. You could see the electricity scorching through him. He was wired. At this moment he was way ahead of the game; the coolest thing on Earth, complete with hair, shades, tight pants and polka dot shirt. He blew everyone away.

Not only that but the lyrics represented a new standard. They poured out in an endless stream of poetry. It was the underworld, the alternative culture with a voice from the basement of society. Dylan was the Beat outsider exploding with that same Kerouac fire and Ginsberg fury. He’d taken the Beat philosophy and put it to music; loud, raucous Rock Music.

This was the birth of the alternative sixties.

Dylan put the Civil Rights and Anti-war protest behind him He’d done his job and raised our consciousness, now he tapped into the subconscious and let it flow; gave it full rein, and flow it did. It spat and pulsed.

This was the ultimate anti-establishment tirade.

One of my favourite songs of all-time. It burned with meaning.

WOW!!!

 

Bob Dylan – Subterranean Homesick Blues Lyrics

Johnny’s in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I’m on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he’s got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It’s somethin’ you did
God knows when
But you’re doing it again
You better duck down the alleyway
Lookin’ for a new friend
The man in the coonskin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
But you only got ten

Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin’ that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phone’s tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the D.A.
Look out kid
Don’t matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don’t try “No Doz”
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don’t need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows

Get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin’ to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You’re gonna get hit
But users, cheaters
Six-time losers
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool
Lookin’ for a new fool
Don’t follow leaders
Watch the parkin’ meters

Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don’t steal, don’t lift
Twenty years of schoolin’
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don’t wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don’t want to be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don’t work
‘Cause the vandals took the handles