Home PageAnother side of bob dylan (1964)

Another Side of Bob Dylan (1964)

DISC ANOTHER SIDE
Remastered Release Information

 

  1. All I Really Want To Do
  2. Black Crow Blues
  3. Spanish Harlem Incident
  4. Chimes Of Freedom
  5. I Shall Be Free No.10
  6. To Ramona
  7. Motorpsycho Nightmare
  8. My Back Pages
  9. I Don’t Believe You
  10. Ballad In Plain D
  11. It Ain’t Me Babe

 

Recorded June 9, 1964
Released August 8, 1964
Playing Time 50:42
Produced by Tom Wilson
Engineered by Hallie and Catero

Bob Dylan – Vocals, Guitar, Harmonica

 

Liner Notes

Some Other Kinds Of Songs . . . Poems by Bob Dylan
baby black’s been had ain’t bad smokestacked chicken shacked dressed in black silver monkey on her back mammy ma juiced pa janitored between the law brothers ten rat-faced gravestoned ditch dug firescaped an’ substroked choked baby black hits back robs, pawns lives by trade sits an’ waits on fire plug digs the heat eyes meet picket line across the street head rings of bed springs freedom’s holler you ask of order she’d hock the world for a dollar an’ a quarter baby black dressed in black gunny sack about t’ crack been gone carry on i’m givin’ you myself t’ pawn
for françoise hardy at the seine’s edge a giant shadow of notre dame seeks t’ grab my foot sorbonne students whirl by on thin bicycles swirlin’ lifelike colors of leather spin the breeze yawns food far from the bellies or erhard meetin’ johnson piles of lovers fishing kissing lay themselves on their books. boats. old men clothed in curly mustaches float on the benches blankets of tourist in bright red nylon shirts with straw hats of ambassadors (cannot hear nixon’s dawg bark now) will sail away as the sun goes down the doors of the river are open i must remember that i too play the guitar it’s easy t’ stand here more lovers pass on motorcycles roped together from the walls of the water then i look across t’ what they call the right bank an’ envy your trumpet player
“i could make you crawl if i was payin’ attention” he said munchin’ a sandwich in between chess moves “what d’ you wanna make me crawl for?” “i mean i just could” “could make me crawl” “yeah, make you crawl!” “humm, funny guy you are” “no, i just play t’ win, that’s all” “well if you can’t win me, then you’re the worst player i ever played” “what d’ you mean?” “i mean i lose all the time” his jaw tightened an’ he took a deep breath “hummm, now i gotta beat you”
straight away an’ into the ring juno takes twenty pills an’ paints all day. life he says is a head kinda thing. outside of chicago, private come down junkie nurse home heals countless common housewives strung out fully on drugstore dope, legally sold t’ help clean the kitchen. lenny bruce shows his seventh avenue hand-made movies, while a bunch of women sneak little white tablets into shoes, stockings, hats an’ other hidin’ places. newspapers tell neither. irma goes t’ israel an’ writes me that there, they hate nazis much more ‘n we over here do. eichmann dies yes, an’ west germany sends eighty-year-old pruned-out gestapo hermit off t’ the penitentiary. in east berlin renata tells me that i must wear tie t’ get in t’ this certain place i wanna go. back here, literate old man with rebel flag above home sweet home sign says he won’t vote for goldwater. “talks too much. should keep his mouth shut”
i walk between backyards an’ see little boy with feather in his hair lyin’ dead on the grass. he gets up an’ hands feather t’ another little boy who immediately falls down. “it’s my turn t’ be the good guy . . . take that, redskin” bang bang. henry miller stands on other side of ping pong table an’ keeps talkin’ about me. “did you ask the poet fellow if he wants something t’ drink” he says t’ someone gettin’ all the drinks. i drop my ping pong paddle an’ look at the pool. my worst enemies don’t even put me down in such a mysterious way. college student trails me with microphone an’ tape machine. what d’ you think a the communist party? what communist party? he rattles off names an’ numbers. he can’t answer my question. he tries harder. i say “you don’t have t’ answer my question” he gets all squishy. i say there’s no answer t’ my question any more ‘n there’s an answer t’ your question. ferris wheel runs in california park an’ the sky trembles. turns red. above hiccups an’ pointed fingers. i tell reporter lady that yes i’m monstrously against the house unamerican activities committee an’ also the cia an’ i beg her please not t’ ask me why for it would take too long t’ tell she asks me about humanity an’ i say i’m not sure what that word means. she wants me t’ say what she wants me t’ say. she wants me t’ say what she can understand. a loose-tempered fat man in borrowed stomach slams wife in the face an’ rushes off t’ civil rights meeting. while some strange girl chases me up smoky mountain tryin’ t’ find out what sign i am. i take allen ginsberg t’ meet fantastic great beautiful artist an’ no trespassin’
boards block up all there is t’ see. eviction. infection gangrene an’ atom bombs. both ends exist only because there is someone who wants profit. boy loses eyesight. becomes airplane pilot. people pound their chests an’ other people’s chests an’ interpret bibles t’ suit their own means. respect is just a misinterpreted word an’ if Jesus Christ himself came down through these streets, Christianity would start all over again. standin’ on the stage of all ground. insects play in their own world. snakes slide through the weeds. ants come an’ go through the grass. turtles an’ lizards make their way through the sand. everything crawls. everything . . . an’ everything still crawls
jack o’diamonds jack o’diamonds one-eyed knave on the move hits the street sneaks. leaps between pillars of chips springs on them like samson thumps thumps strikes is on the prowl you’ll only lose shouldn’t stay jack o’diamonds is a hard card t’ play
jack o’diamonds wrecked my hand left me here t’ stand little tin men play their drums now upside my head in the midst of cheers flowers four queens with pawed out hearts make believe they’re still good but i should drop fold an’ dean martin should apologize t’ the rolling stones ho hum weird tablestakes young babies horseback ride their fathers’ necks two dudes in hopped-up ford for the tenth time have rolled through town it’s your turn baby t’ cut the deck on you’re goin’ under stayed too long chinese gong down the way says jack o’diamonds (a high card) jack o’diamonds (but ain’t high enough)
jack o’diamonds is a hard card t’ play
jack o’diamonds used t’ laugh at me now wants t’ collect from me used t’ be ashamed of me now wants t’ walk ‘long side of me jack o’diamonds one-armed prince wears but a single glove as he shoves never loves the moon’s too bright as he’s fixed mirrors ’round the room at night it’s hard t’ think there’s probably somethin’ in my drink should pour it out inside the sink would throw it in his face but it’d do no good give no gain just leave a stain jack o’diamonds an’ all his crap needs some acid in his lap what hour now it feels late somehow my hounddog bays need more ashtrays i can’t even remember the early days please don’t stay gather your bells an’ go jack o’diamonds (can open for riches) jack o’diamonds (but then it switches) a colorful picture but beats only the ten jack o’diamonds is a hard card t’ play
jack o’diamonds stays indoors wants me t’ fight his wars jack o’diamonds is a hard card t’ play never certain. in the middle commentin’ on the songs of birds chucklin’ at screamin’ mothers jack o’diamonds drains fish brains raffles what’s left over across the table t’ little boy card sharks who just sat down t’ get off their feet bad luck run’s all in fun it’s your choice. your voice you choose you lose run for cover hallaluyah you choose t’ lose take yourself disappear jack o’diamonds (a king’s death) jack o’diamonds (at the ace’s breath) jack o’diamonds is a hard card t’ play
run go get out of here quick leave joshua split go fit your battle do your thing i lost my glasses can’t see jericho the wind is tyin’ knots in my hair nothin’ seems t’ be straight out there no i shan’t go with you i can’t go with you
on the brooklyn bridge he was cockeyed an’ stood on the edge there was a priest talkin’ to him i was shiftin’ myself around so i could see from all sides in an’ out of stretched necks an’ things cops held people back the lady in back of me burst into my groin “sick sick some are so sick” like a circus trapeze act “oh i hope he don’t do it” he was on the other side of the railin’ both eyes fiery wide wet with sweat the mouth of a shark rolled up soiled sleeves his arms were thick an’ tattooed an’ he wore a silver watch i could tell at a glance he was uselessly lonely i couldn’t stay an’ look at him i couldn’t stay an’ look at him because i suddenly realized that deep in my heart i really wanted t’ see him jump
(a mob. each member knowin’ that they all know an’ see the same thing they have the same thing in common. can stare at each other in total blankness they do not have t’ speak an’ not feel guilty about havin’ nothing t’ say. everyday boredom soaked by the temporary happiness of that their search is finally over for findin’ a way t’ communicate a leech cookout giant cop out. all mobs i would think. an’ i was in it an’ caught by the excitement of it)
an’ i walked away i wanted t’ see him jump so bad that i had t’ walk away an’ hide uptown uptown orchard street through all those people on orchard street pants legs in my face “comere! comere!” i don’t need no clothes an’ cross the street skull caps climb by themselves out of manholes an’ shoeboxes ride the cracks of the sidewalk fishermen — i’ve suddenly been turned into a fish but does anybody wanna be a fisherman any more ‘n i don’t wanna be a fish
(swingin’ wanda’s down in new orleans rumbles across brick written swear word vulgar wall in new york city)
no they can’t make it off the banks of their river i am in their river (i wonder if he jumped i really wonder if he jumped) i turn corner t’ get off river an’ get off river still goin’ up i about face an’ discover that i’m on another river
(this time. king rex blesses me with plastic beads an’ toot toot whistles paper rings an’ things. royal street. bourbon street st. claude an’ esplanade pass an’ pull everything out of shape joe b. stuart white southern poet holds me up we charge through casa blazin’ jukebox gumbo overflowin’ get kicked out of colored bar streets jammed hypnotic stars explode in louisiana murder night everything’s wedged arm in arm stoned galore must see you in mobile then down governor nichel an’ gone)
ok i can get off this river too on bleeker street i meet many friends who look back at me as if they know something i don’t know rocco an’ his brothers say that some people are worse hung up than me i don’t wanna hear it a basketball drops through the hoop an’ i recall that the living theater’s been busted
(has the guy jumped yet?) intellectual spiders weave down sixth avenue with colt forty-fives stickin’ out of their belly buttons an’ for the first time in my life i’m proud that i haven’t read into any masterpiece books (an’ why did i wanna see that poor soul so dead?)
first of all two people get together an’ they want their doors enlarged. second of all, more people see what’s happenin’ an’ come t’ help with the door enlargement. the ones that arrive however have nothin’ more than “let’s get these doors enlarged” t’ say t’ the ones who were there in the first place. it follows then that the whole thing revolves around nothing but this door enlargement idea. third of all, there’s a group now existin’ an’ the only thing that keeps them friends is that they all want the doors enlarged. obviously, the doors’re then enlarged fourth of all, after this enlargement the group has t’ find something else t’ keep them together or else the door enlargement will prove t’ be embarrassing
on fourteenth street i meet someone who i know in front wants t’ put me uptight wants me t’ be on his level in all honesty he wants t’ drag me down there i realize gravity is my only enemy loneliness has clutched hands an’ squeezes you into wrongin’ others everybody has t’ do things keep themselves occupied the workin’ ones have their minds on the weekends victims of the system pack movie theaters an’ who an’ of what sadistic company is he from that has the right t’ condemn others as trivial whose fault an’ who really is t’ blame for one man carryin’ a gun it is impossible that it’s him slaves are of no special color an’ the links of chains fall into no special order how good an actor do you have to be and play God (in greece, a little old lady a worker lady looks at me rubs her chin an’ by sign language asks how come i’m so unshaven “the sea is very beautiful here”
i reply pointin’ t’ my chin. an’ she believes me needs no other answer i strum the guitar she dances laughs her bandana flies i too realize that she will die here one the side of this sea her death is certain here my death is unknown an’ i come t’ think that i love her)
i talk t’ people every day involved in some scene good an’ evil are but words invented by those that are trapped in scenes
on what grounds are the grounds for judgment an i think also that there is not one thing anyplace anywhere that makes any sense. there are only tears an’ there is only sorrow there are no problems
i have seen what i’ve loved slip away an’ vanish. i still love what i’ve lost but t’ run an’ try t’ catch it’d be very greedy for the rest of my life i will never chase a livin’ soul into the prison grasp of my own self-love
i can’t believe that i have t’ hate anybody an’ when i do it will only be out of fear an’ i’ll know it
i know no answers an’ no truth for absolutely no soul alive i will listen t’ no one who tells me morals there are no morals an’ i dream a lot
so go joshua go fit your battle i have t’ go t’ the woods for a while i hope you understand but if you don’t it doesn’t matter i will be with you nex’ time around don’t think about me i’ll be ok just go ahead out there right out there do what you say you’re gonna do an’ who knows someday someone might even write a song about you
i used t’ hate enzo i used t’ hate him so much that i could’ve killed him he was rotten an’ ruthless an’ after what he could get i was sure of that my beloved one met him in a far-off land an’ she stayed longer there because of him i croaked with exhaustion that he was actually makin’ her happy i never knew him sometimes i would see him on my ceilin’ i could’ve shot him the rovin’ phony the romantic idiot i know about guys for i myself am a guy poison swings its pendulums with a seasick sensation an’ i used t’ want t’ trample on him i used t’ want t’ massacre him i used t’ want t’ murder him i wanted t’ be like him so much that i ached i used t’ hate enzo
michelangelo would’ve wept if he saw but once where charlie slept (whoa, charlie, i’m afraid you’ve stepped beyond the borders of being kept) what price what price what price disgrace for sleepin’ on a cherub’s face?
an amazon chick with an amazin’ pancho villa face thumb out on highway stands in the boilin’ sun countin’ cars go by zoom catch that u-turn watch truck yes i knew zapata well some of my friends my very best have even looked like the japanese at certain times i myself think they’re grand . . . make great radios do you ever see liz taylor down there pack is heavy there is ink runnin’ down its dusty straps amarillo ain’t far am going there too won’t need floor scrubbed voice dubbed or anything won’t need anything a place fumbles in the sky must make it t’ trinidad tonight a flyin’ saucer texan covered in cuff links ate his steak for breakfast an’ now his car radiator has blown up down the road back here, a sixty-three mercury convertible crashes into girl an’ ten birds just crossed the colorado border
johnny (little johnny) with his father’s hammer nailed five flies t’ the kitchen window trapped baby bumblebees in orange juice bottles rib whipped his younger brother an’ stuck his sister’s hand in the garbage disposal pleasin’ johnny dad’s football star named all the girls that did it he did an’ never knew a one that didn’t bruiser johnny sore loser johnny bad in math but his parents fixed it got too drunk in bars an’ his parents fixed that too lovin’ johnny crew-cut johnny well molded clean lived in something his parents could be proud of no matter what the cost to him a structure of a manly duckling but his parents couldn’t buy him into the college where he wanted t’ go genius johnny poutin’ johnny punchin’ johnny crashed his here son have a car good boy cadillac into a couldn’t care less railroad bridge his parents supported him still they bought new hankies an’ johnny got lots of flowers
an’ so as spoked prongs pierce from perilous heights plungin’ through soft pillows, there IS a sound that rings no praise no praise but you must be aware of poor johnny t’ hear it
you tell me about politics this that you speak of rats. geese. a world of peace you stumble stammer pound your fist an’ i tell you there are no politics you swear tell me how much you care you cheat the lunch counter man out of a pack of cigarettes an’ i tell you there are no politics you tell me of goons’ graves. ginks an’ finks an’ of what you’ve read an’ how things should be an’ what you’d do if . . . an i say someone’s been tamperin’ with your head you jump raise your voice an’ gyrate yourself t’ the tone of principles your arm is raised an’ i tell you there are no politics in the afternoon you run t’ keep appointments with false lovers an’ this leaves you drained by nightfall you ask me questions an’ i say that every question if it’s a truthful question can be answered by askin’ it you stomp get mad i say it’s got nothin’ t’ do with gertrude stein you turn your eyes t’ the radio an’ tell me what a wasteland exists in television you rant an’ rave of poverty your fingers crawl the walls the screen door leaves black marks across your nose your breath remains on window glass bullfight posters hang crooked above your head an’ the phone rings constantly you tell me how much i’ve changed as if that is all there is t’ say out of the side of your mouth while talkin’ on the wires in a completely different tone of voice than you had a minute ago when speakin’ t’ me about something else i say what’s this about changes? you say “let’s go get drunk” light a cigarette “an’ throw up on the world” you go t’ your closet mumblin’ about the phoniness of churches an’ spastic national leaders i say groovy but also holy hollowness too yes hollow holiness an’ that some of my best friends know people that go t’ church you blow up slam doors say “can’t no one say nothin’ t’ you” s say “what do You think?” your face laughs you say “oh yeeeeeaah?” i’m gonna break up i say an’ reach for your coat ‘neath piles of paper slogans i say your house is dirty you say you should talk your hallway stinks as we walk through it your stairs tilt drastically your railing’s rotted an’ there’s blood at the bottom of your steps you say t’ meet bricks with bricks i say t’ meet bricks with chalk you tell me monster floor plans an’ i tell you about a bookie shop in boston givin’ odds on the presidential race i’m not gonna bet for a while i say little children shoot craps in the alley garbage pot you say “nothin’s perfect” an’ i tell you again there are no politics
high treachery sails unveils its last wedding song bang sing the bells the low pauper’s prayer rice rags in blossom blow in a fleet ribbons in the street white as a sheet (a Mexican cigarette) the people’ve been set t’ try t’ forget that their whole life’s a honeymoon over soon i’m not gettin’ caught by all this rot as i vanish down the road with a starving actress on each arm (for better or best in sickness an’ madness) i do take thee i’m already married so i’ll continue as one faithful done ah fair blondy ye lead me blindly I am in the gravel an’ down on the gamut for our anniversary you can make me nervous clink sings the tower clang sang the preacher inside of the altar outside of the theater mystery fails when treachery prevails the forgotten rosary nails itself t’ a cross of sand an’ rich men stare t’ their private own-ed murals all is lost Cinderella all is lost