Maggie's Farm (1965

Maggie’s Farm (1965) by Jochen Markhorst I Two forever young giants The list of Grammy Award winners reveals that 1961 was not a bad year, in Musicland. Ray Charles wins four, including for his best vocal performance single record on "Georgia On My Mind" and one for the best rhythm & blues performance, being "Let The Good Times Roll"; Ella Fitzgerald gets two for "Mack The Knife"; Cole Porter; Henry Mancini; and Marty Robbins (best country & western, "El Paso")... names, songs and albums that have stood the test of time. The young Dylan probably hears with appreciation who wins in the category best performance folk: Harry Belafonte, for his album Swing Dat Hammer. The King of Calypso is a common thread in Dylan's career. In interviews he invariably mentions Belafonte in the listing Odetta - The Kingston Trio - Woody Guthrie, in the listing of artists that put him on the track to his breakthrough as a folk artist. In the Playboy interview with Nat Hentoff (autumn '65) even as the primal source: “First it started with, you know, Odetta. Oh no, it starts with Harry Belafonte. It starts with Harry Belafonte.” Dylan will always be grateful to Belafonte for his first studio experience, for the invitation to play harmonica on "The Midnight Special", for the album of the same name, in '62. It makes an indelible impression on Dylan, although his memory of his “professional recording debut” (Chronicles, chapter 2) is not entirely correct historically - the studio recording on which Dylan “made a professional debut” is five months earlier, on Carolyn Hester's third record (also harmonica, and quite prominent - as in "I'll Fly Away"). Maggie’s Farm Whatever the case, Belafonte seems to make more of an impression in February '62. In Chronicles, the autobiographer Dylan devotes many words to Belafonte. Only superlatives, roaring compliments and expressions of respect - both for Harry's music, his acting and his personality at all. It comes close to a canonization: Astoundingly and as unbelievable as it might have seemed, I’d be making my professional recording debut with Harry, playing harmonica on one of his albums called Midnight Special. Strangely enough, this was the only one memorable recording date that would stand out in my mind for years to come. Even my own sessions would become lost in abstractions. With Belafonte I felt like I’d become anointed in some kind of way. ... the words with which Dylan concludes his long declaration of love (over 400 words) to Harry Belafonte. By the way, it leads to a moving reaction of the honestly surprised, elderly protagonist. He actually thought at the time that the monosyllabic, closed Dylan, who flatly refused to play in a second take, who threw his harmonica in the wastebasket on his way out, looked down on him and his music: I remember thinking, does he have that much disdain for what I'm doing? But I found out later that he bought his harps at the Woolworth drugstore. They were cheap ones, and once he'd gotten them wet and really played through them as hard as he did, they were finished. It wasn't until decades later, when he wrote his book (Chronicles), that I read what he really felt about me, and I tell you, I got very, very choked up. I had admired him all along, and no matter what he did or said, I was just a stone, stone fan. (interview in Mojo, July 2010, with the then 83-year-old Belafonte) Traces of Belafonte can be found throughout Dylan's oeuvre. In song fragments (in "If You Ever Go To Houston", 2009, for example), in choice of repertoire ("Dink's Song", "Rocks And Gravel", "Delia's Gone", "Go Away From My Window"... Belafonte has recorded dozens of songs that inspired Dylan, or at least stimulated), in references (in "Desolation Row"), and it is not inconceivable that Dylan derives the title for his literary debut, Tarantula, from Belafonte's signature song "The Banana Boat Song (Day-O)": A beautiful bunch o' ripe banana Daylight come and me wan' go home Hide the deadly black tarantula Daylight come and me wan' go home 2 Maggie’s Farm In No Direction Home Belafonte can also be heard, with his interpretation of "BaldHeaded Woman", one of the chain-gang songs, songs sung by the working, chained prisoners, from this award-winning album Swing Dat Hammer. On that record Dylan also notices "Rocks And Gravel", which he will record in April '62 during the second Freewheelin' session, and especially Belafonte's version of the chain-gang song "Diamond Joe": Ain't gonna work in the country And neither on Forester's farm I'm gonna stay 'till my Marybell come She gone call me Tom There are two songs called "Diamond Joe". One is the nineteenth century cowboy song Dylan will be covering on Good As I Been To You in 1992. That one has nothing in common with the other, which is the song Dylan will perform, in a variation, as Jack Fate in the film Masked & Anonymous (2003). The oldest recording of this "Diamond Joe" is from 1927, by the Georgia Crackers. But Belafonte uses as source the recording made by the legendary music archivist Alan Lomax in 1937 at the infamous Parchman Farm, the Mississippi State Penitentiary. The arrangement and interpretation by the Calypso king are breath-taking, by the way. As a radio maker Dylan plays both songs in Theme Time Radio Hour episode 73 (March 2008, "Joe") - Cisco Houston's version of the cowboy song, and the steaming 1927 Georgia Crackers recording of the other (“No matter how you slice it, that's rock and roll”, Dylan mumbles approvingly). For the inspiration of "Maggie's Farm" Dylan circles often refer to "Down On Penny's Farm" (The Bently Boys, 1929, alternative title "Hard Times In The Country"). That song unmistakably provides the template for Dylan's "Hard Times in New York City", both lyrically and musically, but the resemblance to "Maggie's Farm" is really not much more than “some girl’s name + farm”. No, the "Diamond Joe" by Belafonte (or rather: by Charlie Butler, the singing prisoner on the original Lomax recording) is a more obvious candidate. Not too important, of course. More importance has the landslide impact of the song. In 1965, "Maggie's Farm" is the cat thrown amongst the hard-core folk pigeons - Dylan opens his much-discussed electric set at the Newport Folk Festival with the song, and things would never be the same. Retrospective historiography says that the public's dismay had more to 3 Maggie’s Farm do with the lousy, overdriven sound quality than with the so-called taboo-breaking electrical amplification, but the myth is inextinguishable. As are the stories around it. About Pete Seeger is still told, mainly thanks to fantasist Greil Marcus, how he attacked the cables with an axe. But Seeger himself later states, and credibly: “I only went to the sound engineer to tell him that Dylan's microphone needed adjusting.” In his memoirs he is unequivocal: Bob was singing Maggie's Farm, one of his best songs, but you couldn't understand a word, because of the distortion. The folk legend continues to admire Dylan publicly and continues to play Dylan songs after Newport, until his death in January 2014. Not "Maggie's Farm" though. He allows that one to pass him by, as Ketch Secor, the foreman of Old Crown Medicine Show, tells in a heartwarming necrological article for The New Yorker ("Pete Seeger Gazing up into the Trees", 27 February 2014): In 2005, the Clearwater Festival went on in spite of a cold, driving rain. My band, Old Crow Medicine Show, played our set, then cheered from the side stage while Pete Seeger sang with a chorus of schoolchildren. Later that day, I joined in with Pete’s grandson, Tao Rodriguez-Seeger, and his rock band. Backstage, Pete crunched on an apple and looked up at the dripping trees, seemingly unaware of the clash of drums and guitars. While Tao and I sang “Maggie’s Farm,” I kept looking back to see how Pete liked it, but he just went on munching that apple and gazing up into the trees. Half-brother Mike Seeger does the honours and records in 1999 with David Grisham and John Hartford the album Retrograss, containing a beautiful rocking chair version of "Maggie’s Farm" in an archaic, Dock Boggs-like arrangement. Retrograss: https://youtu.be/xXIQ8Qepovg Pete's last professional recording - and only time in his entire life that he makes a music video - is Dylan's "Forever Young" (Seeger's contribution to the Amnesty project Chimes Of Freedom, 2012). Irresistible - just like the Caribbean cover of "Forever Young" by that other eternally young giant, Harry Belafonte (1981), by the way. 4 Maggie’s Farm II Even the president of the United States The former President is a fan. Since 2015 Barack Obama annually publishes his Spotify playlist. On the first, his August 2015 summer holiday list, Dylan's "Tombstone Blues" is ranked fourth on the “Summer Day List”. In August 2020, "Goodbye Jimmy Reed", which has just been released, is among the 53 songs of the “2020 Summer Playlist”. The president’s lists are quite eclectic, similar in colour to an average episode of Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour. If he really, really had to choose, Stevie Wonder would be his all-time favourite, but Dylan surely is a contender and does reach his personal Top 3. “There is not a bigger giant in the history of American music,” as Obama says at the 2012 Medal of Freedom ceremony. This is, of course, partly the usual trumpet of praise that goes with an award ceremony, but sincere as well. As Obama's awe also resounds when he talks about the one time he had the chance to get to know Dylan personally. That was in February 2010, when a Celebration of Music from the Civil Rights Movement is organised in the White House. Surprisingly, Dylan accepts an invitation. About what he will play he remains vague until the last moment, but eventually it is a breath-taking performance of "The Times They Are A-Changin'", accompanied only by piano and double bass. Later, Obama tells Rolling Stone the details of his “meeting” with the legend. He was exactly as you’d expect he would be. He wouldn’t come to the rehearsal. Usually, all these guys are practicing before the set in the evening. He didn’t want to take a picture with me; usually all the talent is dying to take a picture with me and Michelle before the show, but he didn’t show up to that. He came in and played The Times They Are A-Changin’. A beautiful rendition. The guy is so steeped in this stuff that he can just come up with some new arrangement, and the song sounds completely different. Finishes the song, steps off the stage – I’m sitting right in the front row – comes up, shakes my hand, sort of tips his head, gives me just a little grin, and then leaves. And that was it – then he left. That was our only interaction with him. And I thought: That’s how you want Bob Dylan, right? You don’t want him to be all cheesin’ and grinnin’ with you. You want him to be a little skeptical about the whole enterprise. So that was a real treat. Two years before that, during the 2008 election campaign that will end with his first victory, Obama has already revealed part of his playlist, again to Rolling Stone, demonstrating his Dylan love: 5 Maggie’s Farm I have probably 30 Dylan songs on my iPod. “Maggie’s Farm” is one of my favorites during the political season. It speaks to me as I listen to some of the political rhetoric. ... Obama thus assigning a kind of therapeutic, or at least inspirational, value to "Maggie's Farm" - which he apparently interprets in a way that appeals to him. Despite its apparent clarity and simplicity, the song, like the Very Great Dylan songs, indeed offers a multitude of interpretation possibilities. In that respect "Maggie's Farm" has the Kafkaesque quality of the John Wesley Harding songs Dylan will write two years later. At universities it is an intellectual finger exercise for Kafka students: “write a historical, a biographical, a Marxist and a religious interpretation of (for example) Kafka's Der Aufbruch” - an extremely short story (145 words), written in extremely clear sentences and simple words that nevertheless allows a multitude of interpretations. A similar task has never been given to the Dylanologists, but that - obviously – does not stop the multitude of interpretations coming in. The anti-political, socially critical interpretation is a fairly popular one. And one for which the average student of literature would not turn his hand. "Maggie's Farm" symbolises “society”, the successive archetypes (Maggie's brother, pa and ma) can easily be seen as social institutions. (respectively the exploitative market economy, the repressive legislator and enforcer, and the manipulating press, for example). Surrounding songs on Bringing It All Back Home, like "Gates Of Eden" and "It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)" could support this viewpoint; both songs can effortlessly be interpreted as expressions of systemic, antiestablishment beliefs, too. The faction of Dylanologists who see the song as an encryption of personal, biographical worries of the artist Dylan is larger. "Maggie's Farm" then expresses the reckoning with the folk movement, marking Dylan's conversion to rock music and farewell to one-dimensional, finger-pointing songs. These interpreters of course point to verse fragments such as I got a head full of ideas and especially to the last verse: Well, I try my best To be just like I am But everybody wants you To be just like them They sing while you slave and I just get bored I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more 6 Maggie’s Farm ... and find confirmation in the special circumstances of the live debut, that earth-shattering premiere at the Newport Folk Festival, in the biographical fact that Dylan played the archetypal fingerpointing song "Only A Pawn In Their Game" at Silas McGee's Farm, and in the cynical put-down they sing while you slave. All right and all wrong, of course - as it should be, with the Very Great Dylan songs. Dylan himself, however, sees no exceptional metaphorical power or value. It seems that Dylan dashes this song off, casually during a spare quarter of an hour. It's the only album track of which only one take exists, judging by The Cutting Edge (2015), the collection of all studio recordings for the magical trio Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde On Blonde. For comparison: even album-filler and later B-side "On The Road Again" gets thirteen takes. The missing poetry is a further indication of an ad hoc theory; unlike most other album tracks, the lyrics of "Maggie's Farm" contain no surrealism, no literary curiosities, no “brilliant way of rhyming and putting together refrains, and his pictorial thinking”, as the Nobel Prize Committee will characterize his mid-60s work later. "Maggie's Farm" is recorded at the beginning of the third and final Bringing It All Back Home session, 15 January 1965. Neither after this one and only take, nor after its release on the LP (22 March), does Dylan himself seem to recognise its quality - nor does he seem to attach any particular importance to it. In February and March, he performs on the East Coast, in Canada and in California, in April and May he tours England, but "Maggie's Farm" does not once appear on the set list. CBS nevertheless sees something in it; in June the song is released on single in the States as well as in Europe (only to flop on both sides of the ocean). The decision to perform it at Newport is probably opportunistic. Dylan doesn't have a band of his own yet, and for a band scrambled together on the spot (with members of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band who happen to be present) "Maggie's Farm" is simple enough to perform without significant rehearsal time. It's Dylan's first electric performance and it's likely that he hasn't foreseen the impact at all. Which is understandable; after all, at the same festival Paul Butterfield and Howlin' Wolf also play electrically, and that goes without any fuzz. A year later, after being jeered at, being 7 Maggie’s Farm booed and being angrily heckled dozens of times, Dylan still has trouble understanding all this hullabaloo. He addresses the English public in London on 27 May 1966: What you’re just hearing here now is the sound of the songs…you’re not hearing anything else except the songs, the sound…of the words…and sounds…so, you know, you can take it or leave it. (…) I'm sick of people asking what does it mean. It means NOTHING. Anyway, the choice of "Maggie's Farm" at Newport is a fortunate one. Its performance elevates the song to the canon, to one of the milestones of the 60s. The song is quoted in songs, films, newspaper articles and novels, catering establishments and beer producers borrow the name and in the 80's, when Maggie Thatcher divides and rules, the song gets an unforeseen, further deepening and topical value. It is, obviously, covered in all corners of the music world, from bluegrass to blues to heavy metal to folk. Blues suits the song best, probably. The Blues Band (1979): https://youtu.be/v8Ov9yv23W0 Eventually, Dylan did roll over; after having more or less ignored the song for ten years, it has been on the set list with great regularity since 1976 - in 2020 "Maggie's Farm" is, according to Olof Björner, in the ninth place of Dylan's Most Performed Songs, with 1064 performances. And still in the twenty-first century, forty-three years after that one and only volatile take on a freezing cold Friday in New York in January '65, even the President of the United States puts "Maggie's Farm" on a pedestal. 8