Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THEY SAID IT BOB DYLAN: “To live outside the law, you must be honest.” Story ideas? Questions? Comments? Write us at gamecockmixeditor@hotmail.com Well you burst on the scene / Already a legend / The unwashed phenomenon / The original vagabond BLOOD ON THE TRACKS (1975) As Dylan says in his most poetic song, “Shelter from the Storm,” “beauty walks a razor’s edge.” This is Dylan in his most vul nerable state emotion ally, but it’s his most musically accessible al bum. His voice is in its finest form, and the lyrics are beautiful and deeply moving. This is especially evident in the classic “Tangled Up in Blue.” ■p s *pi LOVE AND THEFT (2001) His latest album may not reach the creative heights of his mid-1960s output. But the material Dylan recorded for this album and the great American musical styles he has represent ed make the album re quired listening. BY HAMP NETTLES THE GAMECOCK Few titles, if any, stick to Bob Dylan. He is a figure who has spent his life actively rejecting la bels. But the three adjectives Baez uses, “legend,” “phenomenon” and “vagabond,” seem to be the exceptions. Dylan has played all three roles throughout his career, often simultaneously. His latest album, Love and Theft, set for re lease on September 11, is the per fect illustration of Baez’s remarks. And this seems as good a time as any to examine an extraordinary life and an extraordinary album. People were drawn to Dylan early in his career because he took a radical approach to songwriting - that of a poet. He emphasized the lyrics and substance of his songs, rather than just the sound. He es sentially created the modern con cept of the singer-songwriter. * t itil ecu ij euiupusiuuuo ouuii ao “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times, They Are A-Changin’,” Dylan became the king of protest - at least according to his fans. But Dylan never wanted to be king, and his protest phase was short lived; as soon as he received a title of folk royalty, he forsook it. He started playing rock and roll. But Dylan hardly rejected his early acoustic, folk roots. He sim ply improved on them and began drawing heavily on the American blues tradition to create a new sound. With three albums, all re leased in a span of 14 months, Dylan single-handedly altered the movement of American music. Bringing it All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde contain some of great est songs ever written. Dylan’s burst of creation, during 1965 and 1966, produced stunning composi tions. Bringing it All Back Home fea tures “Mr. Tambourine Man,” Dylan’s search for his muse. “Like A Rolling Stone,” which opens Highway 61 Revisited, features venomous lyrics and vocals. It re mains the benchmark by which all rock and roll is measured. “Visions of Johanna,” off Blonde on Blonde, has what Dylan would eventually call his “thin, wild, mercury sound.” It is the epitome, and possibly the apex, of this phase in Dylan’s career. Line for line, it’s hard to find a more per fect song. During his now-legendary 1966 world tour, Dylan took his “thin, wild, mercury sound” to the mass es. He performed half of each show in solo acoustic style, and the crowd response was enthusi nn+ln nmr Ln 1 Dlit tirVinw L took to the stage with an electric guitar and a group of rock and rollers in tow (who would eventu ally form The Band), the response was malicious. But despite the boos and jeers he endured at the time for his “transgression” (play ing rock and roll), this remains Dylan’s finest tour. The only other album to date that has approached Blonde on Blonde in stature is Dylan’s own Blood on the Tracks, released nine years later. Despite writing such classics as “All Along the Watchtower,” “Tears of Rage” and “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” Dylan seemed to have lost his cre ative spark between 1967 and 1974. In January 1975, Blood on the Tracks marked the first major comeback of Dylan’s career. It’s an album that runs the gamut and walks the razor’s edge. “Shelter from the Storm” and “Tangled Up in Blue” are narratives with im ages so rich and poetry so sharp, they might be dreams on tape. At times, Dylan is vulnerable and heartbroken - “You’re a Big Girl Now” - and at others, he is fierce and vengeful - “Idiot Wind” - as he recalls his separation from his wife. In 1975 and 1976, Dylan again took his new sound back on the road, this time with the Rolling Thunder Review. The Review con sisted of Dylan accompanied by old friends he had made in the 1960s. Chief among these was Joan Baez, who would perform several duets with Dylan. The tour fea tured a cross-section of Dylan’s repertoire, some of which Dylan and his skilled backing band dras tically reinterpreted. Dylan’s vo cals were in the finest form they would ever be, and his solo per formances during this tour are breathtaking in recordings. Unfortunately, after 1975, it would be a long time before both Dylan’s studio output and his live performances would achieve sim liar neigms. rtiuunu moo, uyian began what is now unofficially known as the “Never-Ending Tour” (NET). Since it started, Dylan has played nearly 100 shows or more every year, never taking a break from the road for more than a few months at a time. The recordings of the early part of the NET were tremendous, but the studio recordings were dis mal. And after several years on the road, Dylan’s live show seemed to grow tired, as well. With the release of Time Out of Mind in 1997, however, things changed. Not only was the album Dylan’s best studio effort in 20 years, but the NET was revital ized. Dylan’s tattered vocal cords produce gritty, world-worn vocals that lend themselves perfectly to the album’s songs. And once ♦ DYLAN, SEE PAGE 6 srreol HIGHWAY 61 REVISITED (1965) Between the anthem opener, "Like a Rolling Stone," and the epic I closer, "Desolation Row," Dylan achieves rock and roll in its purest recorded form. It’s as simple as that. BoblKlar l)n»sintllUIB«Alk«T» BRINGING IT ALL BACK HOME (1965) Even though a majority of the songs on the album are electric guitar-based, the true worth of this album lies in its final four acoustic songs: "Mr. Tambourine Man," "Gates of Eden," "It’s Alright Ma" and "It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue." Lyrically, these songs are largely unmatched. BLONDE ON BLONDE(1966) Dylan’s attempt to achieve a "thin, wild...sound" resulted in this masterpiece. The gem is the atmos pheric "Visions of Johanna," possibly the greatest song ever written. "Just Like a Woman," supposedly done in one take, is one of his greatest stu dio performances. Nothing ‘sucks’like using the Net to bash professors by BROOK BRISTOW THE GAMECOCK There aren’t too many places out there where you can get a skin-tight pair of black Wrangler jeans worn by one of the Judds, a vintage 1984 “Dodge Trucks pre sents Kenny Rogers In Concert” T-shirt and a bottle of Stetson. The Internet is one of these places. While shopping, reading and finding illegal information are nothing new to the ‘Internet, Praising and ridiculing college professors is a newer phenome non that is on the rise. The logic for such sites is that the teacher evaluation you filled out in your Sociology of Credit Cards class didn’t leave enough room to to tally lambaste your professor. That being the case, a new site giving you the opportunity to share your grievances with col lege students across the nation is MyProfessorSucks.com. Kasey Kerber, a graduate stu dent at the University of Nebraska, launched the site. Kerber’s mission for the site is simple: to allow students to leave positive or negative evaluations for their professors. There is also an A+ section of the site that hopes to recognize the country’s best professors. The site can be described as extremely weak at best, with poor graphics, slow loading time and more of a con cern for giving away things and helping ouf. its sponsors as op posed to helping students. Generally, professor critique postings on the web have been moderate at best. MyProfessorSucks.com is no ex ception. This site currently has no listings for any school in the state of South Carolina, and very few in the Southeast at that. However, if you’re planning on going to the University of Nebraska or Southern Illinois University, then you can just sit back, relax, sign those transfer pa pers and start making out that schedule for next semester. For the rest of us who don’t need instant gratification, we may just want to stick to the pencil and paper and bubble sheets at the end of the semester. www.myprofessorsucks.com RATING: F , f- ■ t Keeping a friend’s memory alive DENISE LEVEREAUX GAMECOCKMIXEDITOR@HOTMAIL.COM This is the day we mourn our dead. A year ago today, I clutched my best friend’s hand as we walked into Palmetto Baptist Medical Center. We walked down a quiet, dark hall, people peering at us nervously from beds in dark rooms with televisons blaring. Only half the lights were working, and there was broken furniture in the hall. Appalled, I thought, “This is where they send people to die?” We rounded a final corner, and there stood a mother, skinny as a bird and just as fragile. Her eyes were red . rimmed, and the look of pure anguish radiating from them went straight to my heart. It was at that moment, looking in that woman’s eyes, that I wanted to collapse on the floor in an ugly, sobbing heap. My grief was ugly, a hideous monster. I wanted it out of me. The woman came over to me, but I don’t remember what she said. I remember hugging her, thinking I wanted to hold her close and make this horrible thing that was happening to her son disappear. i uu nave nui actrii pa in until you’ve watched a mother lose her son. A year ago, someone who was the most wonderful friend, boyfriend, son and brother died. A year ago, Smith King died. After spending nearly two weeks in a coma at Palmetto Baptist Medical Center, Smith died of myocarditis, a viral infection of the heart. During those two weeks, USC students ■ filled the intensive care waiting room, talking to his parents, each other and Smith whenever we were allowed in his room Some of us slept at the hospital. We all felt better knowing someone was there. I don’t remember going to class that afternoon, but people tell me I cried all the way through calculus, my teeth gritted, the big, silent tears running down my cheeks. I do remember helping his parents carry his things down three flights of Preston stairs. The things said Smith all over them, but suddenly, they no longer belonged to anybody. I walked with my parents down the horseshoe to Rutledge Chapel. People were lined up outside, waiting to get in. At the memorial, we clustered around each other like old, blind men and women; in our grief, we weren’t quite sure which way was the right way to go, or what was the right thine to sav. Everything came out jumbled, unplanned and inelegant. The beauty and peace we all took from Rutledge that afternoon was not found in the poetry or prayer. The beauty came from the immeasurable amount of love we brought with us for this one man who, in less than 20 years of life, managed to change all our lives for the better. By the end of the memorial, I was furious. Not because we had come to share our grief, not because we had all loved one of my dearest friends. I was furious because we were all standing there, and Smith wasn’t. As far as I was concerned, we could’ve traded the whole lot of us just to have ♦ LEVEREAUX, SEE PAGE 6