I tempi stanno cambiando, o meglio, stanno peggiorando. Il giovane Dylan, dopo la buona prova offerta con "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan", cambia poco e osa molto: musiche sempre molte semplici (gli accordi di chitarra sono sempre quei tre, l'armonica, per quanto micidiale, è statica e ripetitiva), testi feroci e controcorrente. Un modo per esprimere tutta la propria rabbia (e tutta la propria inquietudine) contro un mondo violento e palesemente inumano. Non è un album capolavoro, ma è forse il lavoro più politico, e in qualche modo più controverso, di un Bob Dylan massacrato dai dubbi, dalle speranze e dagli ideali forse traditi. Il gioco questa volta si fa duro: niente concessioni alla poesia o alla retorica, solo disgusto e rabbia.
Dylan è contro tutti e contro tutto. Non risparmia nessuno, attacca ferocemente politica e affari. Anche, e soprattutto, per questo l'album non piacque nè alla sinistra nè alla destra. Evidentemente, il pesante intervento americano in Vietnam aveva sconvolto la coscienza di Dylan e la coscienza di molti pacifisti come lui.
"The Times They Are A Changin" è un brano bellissimo, folgorante, ancora più cattivo e arcigno di "Blowin In The Wind", feroce e senza speranze. "Venite intorno gente, ovunque voi siate, le acque intorno a voi sono cresciute ed è meglio che cominciate a nuotare o affonderete come dei sassi perchè i temi stanno cambiando", questa la traduzione, un pò libera, dell'inizio del brano. Dylan se la prende col mondo, coi governanti, coi bacchettoni, coi padri e le madri che ascoltano "Love me tender" e disprezzano la cultura avanguardistica leggermente free di inizio anni Sessanta, coi critici, con gli scrittori, e persino coi cantanti. La rabbia è forte, quasi insostenibile: i tempi stanno cambiando, stanno cambiando sul serio.
Malgrado un paio di canzoni non proprio all'altezza ("North Country Blues" e "Boots Of Spanish Leather") l'album si inerpica attraverso sentieri e stradicciole che portano ad una estrema consapevolezza di sè. Dylan si conosce e sa fin dove può spingersi: sa che può permettersi di inveire contro i ricchi e la religione. "With God On Our Side" è validissima ancor oggi: le guerre in nome di Dio, spiega Bob, sono ingiuste e controproducenti (nonchè delle vere e proprie barbarie). In questo nostro mondo, fatto di sciiti e sunniti, Allah e Gesù Cristo, pagode e monasteri, un brano come questo può suscitare solo due reazioni: abbandono nella fede in Dylan; rifiuto di qualsiasi dogma musicale e rabbia nei confronti di un presunto artistucolo da quattro soldi. Io, personalmente, mi schiero con i primi.
Ma il 1964 (anno in cui il disco viene pubblicato) è anche l'anno in cui nasce, prima di morire trionfalmente, la protesta contro i neri, quelli cioè che non hanno diritti e sono considerati alla stregua di bestie da mandare al mattatoio. "Only a pawn in their game" è geniale, forse troppo emozionante, sicuramente magniloquente. E' un canto, un inno di dolore, una protesta, un modo per farsi sentire: l'armonica, come sempre, vola alta (e chi mancherebbe che non fosse così). Ma Dylan, in fondo, è solo un giovanotto di 23 anni, forse troppo maturo per la propria età anagrafica, sicuramente un mezzo genio. I tempi stanno cambiando, lo sa bene Bob che dopo questo album, evidentemente stufo di essere considerato un profeta o, peggio ancora, un politicante, decide di cambiare rotta e virare verso ritmi violenti, forti e rock. I fans più ottusi non capiranno questa storica svolta (e lo fischieranno sonoramente), ma sarà questa la chiave di volta che permetterà a Dylan di sperimentare nuove musicalità (e quindi nuove sonorità) senza dover per forza moraleggiare filosoficamente.
Dylan stava crescendo. I tempi stavano cambiando. Finalmente.
Elenco tracce testi e samples
01 The Times They Are A-Changin' (03:15)
Come gather around people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled,
The battle outside ragin'
Will soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly aging
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.
The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.
03 With God on Our Side (07:08)
Oh my name it is nothin'
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I's taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that land that I live in
Has God on its side.
Oh the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh the country was young
With God on its side.
Oh the Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I's made to memorize
With guns in their hands
And God on their side.
Oh the First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never got straight
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead
When God's on your side.
When the Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.
I've learned to hate Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It's them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side.
But now we got weapons
Of the chemical dust
If fire them we're forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God's on your side.
In a many dark hour
I've been thinkin' about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can't think for you
You'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.
So now as I'm leavin'
I'm weary as Hell
The confusion I'm feelin'
Ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And fall to the floor
If God's on our side
He'll stop the next war.
07 Boots of Spanish Leather (04:39)
Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love,
I'm a sailin' away in the morning.
Is there something I can send you from across the sea,
From the place that I'll be landing?
No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love,
There's nothin' I'm wishin' to be ownin'.
Just to carry yourself back to me unspoiled,
From across that lonesome ocean.
Ah, but I just thought you might want something fine
Made of silver or of golden,
Either from the mountains of Madrid
Or from the coasts of Barcelona.
If I had the stars from the darkest night
And the diamonds from the deepest ocean,
I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss,
For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin'.
I might be gone a long old time
And it's only that I'm askin',
Is there something I can send you to remember me by,
To make your time more easy passin'.
Oh, how can, how can you ask me again,
It only brings me sorrow.
The same thing I would want today,
I would want again tomorrow.
Oh, I got a letter on a lonesome day,
It was from her ship a-sailin',
Saying I don't know when I'll be comin' back again,
It depends on how I'm a-feelin'.
If you, my love, must think that-a-way,
I'm sure your mind is roamin'.
I'm sure your thoughts are not with me,
But with the country to where you're goin'.
So take heed, take heed of the western winds,
Take heed of the stormy weather.
And yes, there's something you can send back to me,
Spanish boots of Spanish leather.
09 The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll (05:47)
William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.
10 Restless Farewell (05:33)
Oh all the money that in my whole life I did spend,
Be it mine right or wrongfully,
I let it slip gladly to my friends
To tie up the time most forcefully.
But the bottles are done,
We've killed each one
And the table's full and overflowed.
And the corner sign
Says it's closing time,
So I'll bid farewell and be down the road.
Oh ev'ry girl that ever I've touched,
I did not do it harmfully.
And ev'ry girl that ever I've hurt,
I did not do it knowin'ly.
But to remain as friends and make amends
You need the time and stay behind.
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past,
I'll bid farewell and be down the line.
Oh ev'ry foe that ever I faced,
The cause was there before we came.
And ev'ry cause that ever I fought,
I fought it full without regret or shame.
But the dark does die
As the curtain is drawn and somebody's eyes
Must meet the dawn.
And if I see the day
I'd only have to stay,
So I'll bid farewell in the night and be gone.
Oh, ev'ry thought that's strung a knot in my mind,
I might go insane if it couldn't be sprung.
But it's not to stand naked under unknowin' eyes,
It's for myself and my friends my stories are sung.
But the time ain't tall,
Yet on time you depend and no word is possessed
By no special friend.
And though the line is cut,
It ain't quite the end,
I'll just bid farewell till we meet again.
Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract, and bother me.
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face,
And the dust of rumors covers me.
But if the arrow is straight
And the point is slick,
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick.
So I'll make my stand
And remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn.
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Altre recensioni
Di ilsuonatorejones
I tempi stanno cambiando, grida Zimmy, ed elenca in poche canzoni tutto quello che deve cambiare.
Non è un cantante, perché non canta, mugola e stride e urla. Però sa come fare a dire quello che vuole dire, e ogni volta lo fa in un modo diverso.
