“Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again”
Bob Dylan
Hard Rain – 1976
I've been disembarked! I left not that long ago. Here is what brought me to where I am. Doesn't it feel like air? Like the sound of the breath of a girl lying next to you in bed in the morning? Sun cuts through the window and slices up your legs. It feels so good, like an aria that blows life into the Ragman, the French Girl, Mona, Ruthy, the Neon Madmen, and Shakespeare. We can't send any messages because we've got nothing to say. All we do is feel anymore – like the lovers in bed. What the hell would we have to say, even if the lines of communication worked? Tell tales of getting in fights with the railroad men? Being stuck in the cities of Tennessee? Why would we say this when others could say it so much better? His voice shakes the shit out of your soul. His buddy's guitar rives your hammer and anvil. Its almost comical how good of a time they're having. It almost destroys the musicians, but never the music. It destroyed his marriage, but that had been going south for a while already. But here we have the chance - Taste his fingers! Sleep in his voice! Get drunk and never stop listening to this song!
No comments:
Post a Comment