49. Bringing it all back home by Bob Dylan (1965)



So you were there when Dylan went electric in the studio?

Ye-es… I was technically there, but I’m afraid I don’t have a lot to contribute as my mind was on other things, I’m sorry to report.

Not another bucket incident?

No… well yes, I did end up with my foot lodged in a bucket for a short time as it happens but that was only a minor distraction. The main issue was a young man named Tim who I had to lock in a broom cupboard.

Were you working as a security guard as well as a cleaner?

No. My duties were still domestic and cleaning related but Tim required urgent soothing, poor thing, and the role fell to me simply because nobody else was willing to step forward and take any responsibility.

Why was he in the studio?

Well he was employed by the record label as a publicist, or in some administrative capacity, and he was a very committed folk music devotee. Bob Dylan had become something of a hero to these sorts of people so when Tim discovered his idol was playing music in the building he was beside himself with excitement and rushed down to the studio to witness folk music being created.

Ah… I think I can see the problem. And Dylan was electric?

Exactly. Instead of a lone folk musician with a battered guitar, a harmonica and songs of social justice and American hardship, Tim found his hero sporting an electric Fender Stratosphere1 and fronting a rock and roll band. It was too much for the poor lad. Like most “folkies” as they were called, he simply wasn’t capable of dealing with change and the sight of Rock God Dylan was more than he could cope with. So for a few moments, the session was disrupted by the sight of a young folk fan having a complete mental breakdown in the centre of the studio. He fell to the ground on all fours, pounding the well-polished floor with his fists shouting “Why?” at the top of voice, which isn’t conducive to the recording of music of any genre.

So what did you do?

Well I managed to lead him away by the hand, took him to a cupboard and placed him inside with a candle and some wicker, which took the edge off his panic. He was still visibly distraught so I recited some Woody Guthrie lyrics and he eventually calmed to the point where he ceased convulsing and was capable of speech once again.

Did Dylan notice?

Well, he could hardly not. When someone screams in panic at the top of their lungs then it’s effectively impossible to ignore, even if you are playing high volume rock and roll at the time. But I don’t think he ever connected the outburst with the guitar around his own neck. He didn’t quite appreciate the impact going electric was going to have on the world.

1. Simon is no doubt referring to the Fender Stratocaster.


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