"If Not For You" Bob Dylan-New Morning

By being here in Afghanistan you miss a lot of things and I hope this doesn't offend people I left behind but one of the things I left behind that draws much sadness in my heart was Dylanfest.  Yes that is right a concert at one of my favorite venues of all time, the Bowery Ballroom.  It doesn't say little for the people I left behind but rather just what an amazing experience it is to walk down those stairs into the bar waiting to go back up to the stage and hear some truly great music.

The funny thing is I didn't even know about it until a friend I met though a very good friend told me about it.  Bon Vivant of NYC, attorney, agent to actors and actress, the only man I have seen drive everywhere in NY, including going out at night, one night in particular when opening a beer in his old 5 series he rear ended a brand new M3 way past midnight (and yes, the guy had personalized plates) and talked his way out of it.  A man who runs 24/7 and still finds a way to be successful, a man who is probably the closest I've seen in person to Jack Keuroic's Dean Moriarty.  Honestly.

And that night, before we rammed that M3 we were driving around Manhattan with my scared ex in the back seat BLASTING Van Morrison screaming down sixth avenue.  I've met a few people in my life that feel the way I do about music but very few who have connected to the music I like in that very same way.  And a casual remark about Dylan led to my introduction of Dylanfest.

Held on Bob's birthday down in the Bowery it is an event that draws a lot of small names that should be big, or would have been if rock and roll was still #1 on the charts.  Lots of hipster bands and names I barely knew would crowd the stage and the vibes.......man the vibes were amazing.  

One year they opened with this song.  A song that I always bypassed while listening to his albums.  And that was the best part of the show.  It wasn't the intimate venue, the people or listening to Norah Jones sing backup with no one even mentioning her name or that she was there.  The great thing was Dylan has been heard so many times, been proclaimed the best by so many that eventually you stop listening, it becomes boring.  BUT that night with all these new, young faces singing their hearts out to Bob's tunes, it all makes you fall in love with Dylan again.  

About a seven months later I was at the Union Club outside the humidor smoking a cig and drinking whiskey and who should show up but my version of Dean himself.  We caught up, talked about that night I missed this or missed that (he was also a good luck charm, it seemed as every night I had planned to go out with him I would grab a drink somewhere and meet someone, obviously to push him aside which he always understood).  Out there on the balcony overlooking 69th street I told him how Dylanfest made me rediscover Dylan and fall in love all over again to which we locked eyes and he over joyously agreed.  Again, right on point.  

We stayed out that night until five after getting locked out on the balcony and having to break a window to get back in only to come in and get a full two hour tour of the club and its history by a very old but nice member and then off to Bar and Books on 73rd until the sun came up.  A great night, but not even close to Dylanfest.  

"Would You Lay With Me" David Allan Coe-David Allan Coe Live-If That Ain't County

The first time I heard David Allan Coe was my freshman year of college.  Striking that I had never heard of him before since a lot of my music at the time was the Outlaw Country genre, but nonetheless I hadn't.  There was this kid across the hall, Tim.  Tim was a New Hampshire hippie who smelled bad, had Sideshow Bob nappy hair, wore ripped clothes and huffed Glade on a constant basis.  The entire hallway, every room was robbed of Glade so Tim could get his fix.  

I am pretty sure he never went to class, I know this because I never did and always saw him.  He liked the Dead, I liked the Dead, he lived across the hall....and of course he was always in my room.  But the first time I ever heard David Allan Coe was the day after he fixed his tape deck up so he could sing karaoke and on that day he faced the speakers out into the quad so everyone could hear him croon while baked on vanilla Glade.  

"Trying like the Devil to find the Lord, working like a nigger for my room and board....

.....coal burning stove no natural gas, if that ain't country I'll kiss you ass." 

Lyrics, yea offensive to people I guess but I must say that there was something in that song (which if you take the time to listen to will find it is a fantastically written song) that made me want to hear more.  I hiked upstairs and asked him for the album, his dirty hands with pieces of stems and resin handed it to me.  On the cover was this man with a bandanna, tatts all over his hands and a rhinestone white leather jack.  "For The Record David Allan Coe".

I memorized that entire album in about two night before I gave it back, at the time there being no iTunes and the nearest music store was miles away, I was sans car.  Eventually the whole floor caught on, even our black RA and the one other black dude on campus (this was a New England Liberal Arts College) would belt out lines when we were drinking on Thursday, Friday,...well many nights.  Which was a polarizing event, it made me realize that good music transcends a lot of things, even some redneck mouthing words that would get a man killed in most urban areas and here I was singing them with a black guy.

There are too many stories about DAC to recall for this post.  That spring when three roommates came back home to Jersey with me to see the Coe man and ended up passed out: In my hallway outside my parents room, on the toilet and in the kitchen.  My house being a small three bedroom abode in which we never closed our bedroom doors.  DAC at a rodeo in Virginia, at the Flora-Bama in Pensacola....I have seen him too many times to recall and like the man himself, all colorful events.  

However I chose this song, though this version is only just over a minute long, because it is only his voice and what a powerful voice it is.  It breaks through the stereotypes of the man, the implied racism of a past age, the murder charge and prison time, the totally off color album he put out with songs such as "Itty Bitty Titties" ...compared to this voice the rest is just, well, conversation.  

It is beautiful and pure, it is the exact opposite of the image he portrays and, I think, is one of the reasons why those with more of a household name (Willie, Waylon, Johnny, Kris) call him a friend and a great musician.