Here goes folks...
Bob Dylan's highly anticipated and much promoted new CD, TEMPEST hits the streets on September 11 and today NPR debuted the first streamable complete song from the new release.
The lead track from the album, "Duquesne Whistle" was debuted today here on NPR'S ALL SONGS CONSIDERED. It's a swinging number that starts out sounding like an old, moldy recording of some drummerless '40s Western Swing or a train heard from around a bend and then suddenly it leaps out before the first verse into a the present tense of a full, smokin' roadhouse vibe -- slapping bruses on snare, chuggin' upright pulse and power chord electric guitars, shuffling jazzy rhythm guitar, loping pedal steel and what I presume are Dylan's own organ comping.
photo by AP
The lyrics to the song were co-written with Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter. Since Garcia's passing in 1995, Hunter has been collaborating quite successfully with a wide range of talented writers (watch for my upcoming post on Robert Hunter) and has written with Dylan on and off since 1988 most notably co-writing most of the songs on Dylan's acclaimed 2009 album, Together Through Life.
"Duquesne Whistle" is a train song. Both Dylan and Hunter's individual songwriting catalogs and the roots of the American folk, blues, country and rock music that they share are filled with songs about trains.
Yes, Dylan's voice is craggy and croaky but no doubt as to what he is singing and how much fun he is having. With his crack road band behind him on most of the album alongside a couple of ringers including Los Lobos' David Hidalgo, this is another in Dylan's line of rootsy, quality efforts.
Full album review coming soon...
Here are the lyrics to DUQUESNE WHISTLE as heard on a first pass. Any corrections please let us know. We will add (c) information as soon as it is confirmed.
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like it's gonna sweep my world away
I wanna stop at Carbondale and keep on going
That Duquesne train 'gon rock me night and day
You say I'm a gambler, you say I'm a pimp
But I ain't neither one
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Sound like it's on a final run
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like she never blowed before
Blue light blinking, red light glowing
Blowing like she's at my chamber door
You smiling through the fence at me
Just like you always smiled before
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like she ain't gon' blow no more
Can't you hear that Duquesne whistle blowing?
Blowing like the sky's gonna blow apart
You're the only thing alive that keeps me going
You're like a time bomb in my heart
I can hear a sweet voice steadily calling
Must be the mother of our Lord
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like my woman's on board
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like it's gon' blow my blues away
You old rascal, I know exactly where you're going
I'll lead you there myself at the break of day
I wake up every morning with that woman in my bed
Everybody telling me she's gone to my head
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like it's gon' kill me dead
Can't you hear that Duquesne whistle blowing?
Blowing through another no good town
The lights on my lady's land are glowing
I wonder if they'll know me next time 'round
I wonder if that old oak tree's still standing
That old oak tree, the one we used to climb
Listen to that Duquesne whistle blowing
Blowing like she's blowing right on time
Listen to Duquesne Whistle here at NPR's ALL SONGS CONSIDERED
What You'll Find Here: Music, Movies and Me
Since May 1976, I have written in journals. When I have nothing particularly resonant to say about my own inner turmoil, philosophic ramblings, sexual peccadillos or whining on about the state of the world around me...I have always fallen back on reporting the cultural time consumption that takes up in inordinate portion of my daily goings on.
In the 40+ years since my first concerts seeing Children's Symphony presentations on Sundays at the Pasadena Civic or The Hot Jazz Society's monthly Dixieland romps in an old meeting hall on the edge of the L.A. "River" across from Griffith Park, I have been sold heavily on the magic of live music. As Neil Young so aptly put it, "Live music is better bumper stickers should be issued."
Growing up a few orange groves and canyons length away from Hollywood also contributed greatly to my family's addiction to movie going. From the time I was a small there were weekly trips to the drive-in theaters that dotted the landscape, or the local Temple theater for the Saturday matinees. Once in a while we'd drive the 12 miles into Hollywood and see something in one of the magnificent old movie palaces like Grauman's Chinese, the Egyptian, The Pantages or later the Cinerama Dome. My dad loved Westerns and War movies, as if he didn't get enough shoot-'em-up as an L.A. County Sheriff in his day gig, my mom adored musicals and comedies. My brother and I loved them all.
At SDSU, I played in my first gigging band and began booking concerts on campus as part of the well-funded Cultural Arts Board, kindling for my future life in and around music.
So it's not surprising that my first jobs out of college were working in local video rental places (which were all the rage) or managing a couple of Sam Goody record stores in Mall's on the East Coast where we marveled at the new CD format and sold the first home computers and video games (yes Commodore and Pong and Atari).
So these are really just extensions of all of those journal entries talking about the great new movies I was seeing and LPs/CDs I was listening to.
Though iPODS/iPADs, apps, smart phones and downloads now make music and movies accessible in your own pocket, there is still nothing like sitting in front of a stack of speakers with a room full of people swaying to music created before your eyes. Nor is there anything that works quite so well for me to escape the real world and all of it's pressures just outside than two hours in a dark theater, absorbing the stories flickering across that wide screen as they pull you into their world.
But a really good taco runs a close third...
In the 40+ years since my first concerts seeing Children's Symphony presentations on Sundays at the Pasadena Civic or The Hot Jazz Society's monthly Dixieland romps in an old meeting hall on the edge of the L.A. "River" across from Griffith Park, I have been sold heavily on the magic of live music. As Neil Young so aptly put it, "Live music is better bumper stickers should be issued."
Growing up a few orange groves and canyons length away from Hollywood also contributed greatly to my family's addiction to movie going. From the time I was a small there were weekly trips to the drive-in theaters that dotted the landscape, or the local Temple theater for the Saturday matinees. Once in a while we'd drive the 12 miles into Hollywood and see something in one of the magnificent old movie palaces like Grauman's Chinese, the Egyptian, The Pantages or later the Cinerama Dome. My dad loved Westerns and War movies, as if he didn't get enough shoot-'em-up as an L.A. County Sheriff in his day gig, my mom adored musicals and comedies. My brother and I loved them all.
At SDSU, I played in my first gigging band and began booking concerts on campus as part of the well-funded Cultural Arts Board, kindling for my future life in and around music.
So it's not surprising that my first jobs out of college were working in local video rental places (which were all the rage) or managing a couple of Sam Goody record stores in Mall's on the East Coast where we marveled at the new CD format and sold the first home computers and video games (yes Commodore and Pong and Atari).
So these are really just extensions of all of those journal entries talking about the great new movies I was seeing and LPs/CDs I was listening to.
Though iPODS/iPADs, apps, smart phones and downloads now make music and movies accessible in your own pocket, there is still nothing like sitting in front of a stack of speakers with a room full of people swaying to music created before your eyes. Nor is there anything that works quite so well for me to escape the real world and all of it's pressures just outside than two hours in a dark theater, absorbing the stories flickering across that wide screen as they pull you into their world.
But a really good taco runs a close third...
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