"I Wanna Be With You If You Wanna Be With Me"

Summer ‘66 and the world destroyed Dylan. Not on some rockyroad/highway 61. Neck broken by harmonica holder cycling throughvillage. Somewhere back in '65, maybe at Forest Hills, the crowddevoured his image while masturbating itself. But Dylan still existshidden in Woodstock, New York with wealth, wife, and piano. Stoned withClapton one night, we visited. What remains is a residue ofrecollections.

Michael March:  Like why don't you come out?

Dylan:  The image. The image. Wearing a wig was a bad scene. All those people screaming andamphetamine. And where it's at. Grossman wanted me to ball Baby JaneHolzer for press.

MM:  With protrusions and pearls . . .

D:  And Chinese flutes. NowI must compose and shop in supermarkets. The broken neck covered mytripping out. Man, those fuckin' gigs. England. A roomed life with wallto wall jokes. And people clawing to get inside of me and my shoes whenall I know is the farmer's daughter.

MM:  What about your appearance at the Guthrie Memorial Concert?

D:   What about it. The manwas a genius. What I did was for him and no one else. But everybodygets so excited. "He's wearing a suit," rehearses the audience . . .

MM:   And the band . .

D:   Friends. We just play together ‘cause we're friends.

MM:  What about Baez?

D:  Haven't seen her in twoyears—doesn't like my voice or somethin'. Electricity scares her.Morbid lyrics scares her. So she sings in the same pitch—records mysongs ‘cause she's too scared to record her own. In the old days.Beautiful. Used to wipe herself with an American flag after doin' it.Sure, I still love her even though she's straddled on peace an’ somepunk ex-resident-from-college-kid. Yeh, and the way she drops acidlying naked on ol’ Fats Domino records.

MM:   Love was a four-letter word in Don't Look Back.

D:  Right, man. Four yearsago in some dog-shit farce. When I was developing as an internationalnoise. "Subterranean Home­sick Blues" hit fourteen while posing forPennebaker who posi­tioned himself for the networks and theshow-must-go-on hype and Grossman's contractual constipation. Making mepeeking through a keyhole down upon my knees . . .

MM:  And the electric transformation?

D:  In Minnesota atseventeen when I played fo' food an local ball I was into rock. Cut"Mixed-up Confusion" in '62 with electric backup. So for like threeyears I sang Caruso—hitting all the notes and holding my breath threetimes as long until "Like a Rolling Stone." I was electric on the '65European tour. Filmed me and the band doin' a little nothing foranother film called Nine Below Zero— don't think it'll be releasedthough.

MM:  Why?

D:  Look, I always wanted tobe Little Richard. If ya don't believe me, look in my ol’ high-schoolyearbook. I used to stand there with a piano and scream and everybodylaughed at the amps. I came to New York an' got into folk ‘cause that'swhat was, man. I wrote what people wanted an' Grossman created theimage with all this stuff about my leavin' home and stuff. Suddenlypeople were doin' me—I had the bread an' fame so like I reverted tohigh-school-eleventh grade to be exact. And there was me in this moviescreaming in the Olympia in Paris and Grossman said cut the tracks butwait a few takes on the image, Bobbie.

MM:  You've always been aware of your image and public taste. Was your Woodstock seclusion just another bit to gather the tribes?

D:  I knew it was time to stop, that's all. Someday I may be hung as a thief.

MM:  You're not copping out politically?

D:  I say what I have to,man. The artist is the most political figure in society because hestands outside. John Wesley Hard­ing is religious andpolitical—besides, they're both the same. "Where another man's lifemight begin that's exactly where mine ends."

MM:  "He was never known to make a foolish move."

D:  So "don't go mistakingparadise for that home across the road." Let's take that again. "AllAlong The Watchtower" con­tains an encapsulated "Desolation Row" inscience fiction terms. "There must be some way out of here said thejoker to the thief." What's political man? Sorry I can't do thatWilliam Zan Zinger stuff anymore. Besides, none of them along the lineknow what any of it is worth. Everybody wants to be inside my shoes andI'm married with three kids—where the fuck is Nashville in space?

MM:  But as a poet you must realize that people associate your musical thoughts with their existence. They want . . .

D:  Did I hear product orme? They've pirated the basement tape, xeroxed Tarantula, and made mecut my hair off. But there's about eighty cuts that they ain't gonnahear because Columbia won't release 'em. Right now I'm into myexistence and it feels good.

MM:  Has your voice changed? On Nashville Skyline it's higher and smoother . . .

D:  That's because I'm higher and smoother.

MM:  I mean . . .

D:  "Music is so much less than what you are." O.K.?

Michael March

Reprinted with permission from Fusion, October 31, 1969