“Jokerman”
Bob Dylan
Infidels – 1983
“Nightsticks and water cannons, tear gas, padlocks,
Molotov cocktails and rocks behind every curtain,
False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,
Only a matter of time 'til night comes steppin' in.”
Okeh, okeh, get over the drums. This is great vocal alacrity. (E.g. the way he snips off his breath on that “both of your fists-”; cramming in all those words quoted above; all those “ohhhs” in each chorus; that midwest “mick-el-angelo”.) So what the hell is the Jokerman? He's evil - “born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowin'”. He's good - “Friend to the martyr, friend to the woman of shame”. He's totally ambiguous - “the Book of Leviticus” and “the Law of the jungle and the sea” are his teachers. Like any good Dylan song, it comes close to defying a reading of itself. But one thing is certain here – Dylan lives in the song and nearly destroys its subject matter. “So swiftly the sun sets in the sky / You rise up and say goodbye to no one.” What is that? It's nothing. It's pernicious, but also something like sublimity. He sees the rich man without any name in a fiery furnace. All joking aside, this is ridiculous. It's like a dream sequence. It's like everyday in the mind of an artist. It's simple imagination. Why don't we all articulate things like this? What poverty of expression that Dylan is possessor here! He's the kindred slave, king, and acrobat of humanity. He is willing to walk the rope that we only glimpse at. He can also be an asshole.
"Freedom just around the corner for you
But with the truth so far off, what good will it do?"
Also this.
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