Why Meet Me In the Morning by Bob Dylan is Problematic: Thoughts.

DISCLAIMER: I did not write this to Blood On the Tracks. I listened to Faces’ A Nod Is As Good As A Wink…… hence I spoke extensively of them and Rod Stewart and not as much about Meet Me in the Morning as much as I probably should have to justify the title.

Me and my manager at my new job were talking about mundane tasks on days off the other day. He mentioned he’d been tidying his house to Blood On the Tracks by Bob Dylan. I followed suit and did exactly the same, focusing specifically on that bit behind the sink where the washing up water splashes. Ours seems to get especially wet and takes a lot of drying, lest the water build up and go grey and opaque.

Our next shift together we listened to Blood On the Tracks whilst opening up shop. I mentioned I didn’t particularly care for Meet Me in the Morning. I didn’t like the schmaltz, I specified. I think I ended up railing slightly against other such schmaltzy numbers and why I dislike them. Anyway he asked for a review of Meet Me in the Morning; he said he’d love to read it (I must add, my manager was the main spur for me to actually set up a blog for writing recently).

I don’t hate Meet Me in the Morning. It simply ruins the flow of an otherwise faultless album. It follows four beautiful, pining folk-rock epics. It intrudes with a laboured bluesy lick that frankly wasn’t welcome there in the first place.

Tangled – Michael Gira’s favourite song, or made up by dad? He liked but never confirmed as favourite. This just dodges the made-up musical trivia hall of fame, unlike Whitesnake headlining Wembley Stadium in 1984 (I was a pedantic kid, I needed to get my Hair Metal facts straight – this speaks a lot worse on me than it does my dad).

Whitesnake at Wembley ARENA was all that came up when I typed "Whitesnake Wembley".

 

Simple Twist of Fate – follows logically.

You’re a Big Girl now – again.

Idiot Wind – you get the idea by now. ASIDE: “blowing like a circle round my skull” might be one of the best-sung Dylan lyrics, however, it sounds even better when you think he’s saying “sucker”.

You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome…… - a home run. Five excellent tracks done. This was also made incredibly sexy by Ben Watt of Everything But the Girl, and yes, dad, I can write on my blog about how good this cover is without you interrupting to call it inessential.

Now we get to ‘Meet Me’ and the album derails momentarily. You’re taken out of the gentler, if slightly lyrically sour and divorce-embittered world of the preceding part of the album.

‘Meet Me’ follows the template that a few well-known rockers have. The Stones were partial; The Beatles; Neil Young with Vampire Blues; hell, even the Faces. Perhaps that’s why they were an apt choice of soundtrack.

Meet Me In the Morning following ‘You’re Gonna Make Me’ can be compared directly to the flow of ‘A Nod’ by the Faces. Why on earth would anyone in their right mind follow up the serenity of Debris with Memphis, Tennessee? It makes no sense sequentially and, as you’ll know from my playlists, I’m a man who thinks he knows a thing or two about sequencing. ‘Thinks’ being the operative word.

This is a syndrome from which Rod Stewart has actually suffered on more than one occasion, never more egregiously than on A Night On the Town. Who, in their right mind, would want to ruin the flow between Killing of Georgie to Trade Winds with Balltrap, Pretty Flamingo, and Big Bayou? Was this a perverse tactic to emphasise the beauty of certain other tracks? Let’s lay on the schmaltz! Then they’ll understand just how gorgeous our folk-rock numbers can be!

Despite the occasional bit of schmaltz, 1976 was still before Rod Stewart was TOTALLY laughable.

It’s a phenomenon I do not understand at all. I never will. I will almost always skip these numbers and, I’m afraid, I will most likely feel the same about Meet Me in the Morning going forward with future listens.

If, in future, you find yourself recording an album of gorgeous folk or blue-eyed soul, please steer clear of the temptation to tack on an ironic schmaltz number. Leave the pseudo barroom blues licks in the guitar case.

Despite the tone of this, I don’t abjectly HATE ‘Meet Me’. It’s simply that I could skip it or have it never having been released and still be more than happy with the forty-six other minutes of beauty that is Blood On the Tracks. Take me straight to Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts.