Only art tells the truth. Real art.
Not bullshit pop art. Some say "Like a Rolling Stone" is about Edie Sedgwick, "the girl of the year" in 1965 and one of Andy Warhol's superstars. Perhaps to a degree it is, but it's far more than that. It's about us.
Poor Edie was poisoned by her wealthy family at a young age and barely had a chance. She was an extreme example of a rather common American story. People poisoned in the cradle. Thinking of her got me thinking of Andy Warhol, the death obsessed hoarder, the guy who called his studio "The Factory" in a conscious or unconscious revelation of his art and persona, his wigs and masks and the hold he has had on American culture all these years. Isn't he the ultimate celebrity?
Warhol once took my photo on a deserted street. His and my secret but this is the truth. West 47th Street on an early Sunday morning, 1980. I guess he thought he was doing art or collecting images for his museum of dead heads. When I asked him why, he said I had an interesting face. I told him he did too, rather transparent and creepy, but I didn't want to capture him. He was a ghost with a camera, a face like a death mask, trying to capture a bit of life. I told him I didn't give him permission to shoot me, but he turned and walked away into the morning mist. The shooters always just walk away in pseudo-innocence.
I then went down the street to the Gotham Book Mart that was my destination and asked James Joyce why he had written "The Dead," and Joyce, secretive as ever, quoted himself, "Ed," he said, "Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home." Now that was direction.
Only those who know how to play and be guided by intuition are able to escape the living tomb of so-called knowledge; what Dylan called, lifelessness. But that was from "Desolation Row," released as the closing track of Highway 61 Revisited on August 30, 1965. The only acoustic song on the album. Slow it down to make the point another way. "Like a Rolling Stone" was the opening track.
Do you feel all alone or part of a masked gang roaming the streets incognito? Miss and Mr. Lonely, does that mask help? How do you feel?
Desolation means very lonely. From Latin, de, completely, solare, lonely.
Does that mask help? Do you feel alone together now, one of the crowd?
Do you really want to know about desolation row? It's here. It was here in 1965, too. Only the true lonely know how it feels to really be all alone.
The Umbrella People, those who some call the deep state or secret government under whose protection all the politicians work, say they want to protect us all from death and disease. They are lying bastards who've gotten so many to imitate their masked ways. They can only sing a mockingbird's song.
Listen to real singers. Dylan has arched the years, as true artists do. Who has paid close attention to what he said this year about the assassination of President Kennedy in his song, "Murder Most Foul"? Or were many caught up in the propaganda surrounding corona virus, and rather than contemplating his indictment of the U.S. government and its media accomplices, were they contemplating their navels to see if a virus had secreted itself in there. Viruses lurk everywhere, they say, and the corporate media made certain to circulate a vaccine about the truth in Dylan's song. This is normal operating procedure.
We are still on Desolation Row.
"Take Off the Masks." That was the title of a book by Rev. Malcolm Boyd that I reviewed long ago. He was a gay priest who decided that his mask was a lie. He came out into the light of truth. He had guts.
It is time for everyone to take off the masks. Escape from Desolation Row by seeing what's going on behind our backs.
Listen to Dylan, long ago - today:
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