The Dylan Smirk

There were some special moments when Bob and I first met this weekend, at the Rock in Rio festival, just outside Madrid. It was a true exhibition of blues mastery coming from a folk legend, absolutely mesmerizing. I had heard some nasty stories about Dylan-live; he would be grumpy, even rude, to his adoring crowd. His voice would be so rough that lyrics would be hard to follow. And above all, you just had to be lucky if he played some of his more famous songs as he does have about 800 to choose from. All was proven wrong on Sunday.

Preparing for this concert I took out my Bob Dylan DVD collection – consisting of the two classic documentaries ‘No direction home’ and ‘Don’t look back’. Now, I wouldn’t consider myself a fan of Dylan, more a distant admirer. I have a feeling he doesn’t like the fans who walk around in Dylan merchandise. He admits it himself in his book ‘Chronicles’. He doesn’t want to be idealized; he doesn’t want to be seen as a messiah of a lost generation. He just wants people to enjoy his music. He has never asked someone to understand it.

Anyway, whilst I was watching the ‘Don’t look back’ documentary – which follows Dylan on his controversial tour of England in 1965 – I bumped into the following scene which I would like you all to take a look at. In this particular part we see British folk singer Donovan (to many a Dylan wannabee, but certainly no schmuck) and Dylan in a Newcastle hotel room, exchanging songs. Note how Dylan observes Donovan’s tune; nervously shaking his leg, waiting for his turn. Notice how quick the Jester snatches the guitar from his British counterpart as soon as he finishes. Although does manage to stammer “That’s a good song man”, but does he mean it?

Dylan and Donovan

However, the most fascinating part comes exactly at 3.00 when Dylan – at the height of his classic song ‘It’s all over now Baby Blue’ – portrays something what I will call ‘the Dylan Smirk’. An arrogant little smile which shows off: there is something what I know, and what none of you know – and certainly not Donovan. He takes the whole room to school.

Observing this spectacle I can’t help but - running the risk of sounding very pretentious indeed - be reminded of Plato’s Symposium. There too a group of young geniuses come together in a room, amongst them Aristophanes – the comic poet, Pausanians – the legal expert, Eryximachus – the physician, and last but not least: Socrates.

After taking the microphone from Agathon, Socrates sweeps the floor with all of them; bouldering a faultless discourse on Love and Desire, leaving the room pretty much speechless, unable to give any dignified answer. At the end of it, Socrates stands alone, hoping for some kind of response which he knows he is not going to get. For he – like Dylan – was such a master of his trade, a King of verbal contest, who stood so high above the rest that even competition seems ridiculous.

Now, back to the Dylan Smirk. I imagine that this could have been Socrates’ face during his speech on Love at the Symposium. With this grin he could be seen answering Agathon’s call. A grin of total and valid arrogance. So, I went to look for this particular facial expression on Sunday. To see if Dylan – our modern day Socrates – still had it. If he still had the power to take an entire audience to school, to show that he knows something we all don’t. Well, I think I saw the smirk twice. They came rather powerfully in the following songs, and exactly during the lines I have inked in black.

During Spirit on the Water

You think I'm over the hill

You think I'm past my prime

Let me see what you got

We can have a whoppin' good time

And during Thunder on the Mountain

Thunder on the mountain, rollin' like a drum

Gonna sleep over there, that's where the music coming from

I don't need any guide, I already know the way

Remember this, I'm your servant both night and day

Both these lines he sang which such spit that I was convinced that he still had it. ‘I don’t need any guide, I already know the way’ – that’s just great.