Friday, December 2, 2022

Dylan, Dylan and A Simple Desultory Philippic

My last two years in high school I took an art class with Mr. Sebes at BRHS-West. The classroom had a kiln, art supplies of all kinds and a record player. For some reason (probably because they were the most assertive and everyone went along with it) there were a couple of girls who controlled what we listened to, much the same way that some people like to be in charge of the remote when families or friends watch television.

No one seemed to mind, though, because the records they selected to play were always Simon & Garfunkel. Parsley, Sage Rosemary and Thyme; Wednesday Morning, 3AM; Sounds of Silence; Bookends... Without effort we learned the words of nearly every album because I don't believe they ever played anything else.

One of the songs was a spoof on Bob Dylan called "A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert McNamara'd into Submission)" which appeared on Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. The song is rather hilarious, especially the talking part in imitation of Dylan's delivery on songs like "I Shall Be Free No. 10."

In November, after reading Bob Dylan and Dylan Thomas: The Two Dylans by Jeff Towns and K.J. Miles, I felt a need to become more acquainted with the life and work of Dylan Thomas. To be honest, I only knew of him but had never read him. To do this I borrowed several books from our library and did a little devouring. One of the books, a massive volume, featured all of his poems. One was a book of literary criticism that included an overview of his life, another a book of essays by other critics, and the fourth a Christmas tale he wrote called A Child's Christmas. His most famous poem is probably "Do not go gentle into that good night."

Much of his poetry struck me as evocative even when you didn't fully grasp what its meanings, vivid imagery throughout. It wouldn't be too far a stretch to compare some of his writing to Finnegan's Wake, or a linguistic hybrid conjoining Jackson Pollock's paint splattering with Dali's hyper-schizophrenic scenes such Soft Construction with Boiled Beans (Premonition of Civil War).

The Welsh poet won many accolades with some critics calling him the greatest living poet. Like other "rock stars" he seems to have lived a life of self-destruction, and indeed died during his 39th year on earth.

All the above flashed through my mind as i thought about the reference to Dylan Thomas in Paul Simon's parody of Dylan. Here are the lyrics, with the Dylan Thomas reference highlighted in bold. 

A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert McNamara'd into Submission)

I been Norman Mailered, Maxwell TayloredI been John O'Hara'd, McNamara'dI been Rolling Stoned and Beatled 'til I'm blindI been Ayn Randed, nearly brandedCommunist, 'cause I'm left-handedThat's the hand I use, well, never mind
I been Phil Spectored, resurrectedI been Lou Adlered, Barry SadleredWell, I paid all the dues I want to payAnd I learned the truth from Lenny BruceAnd all my wealth won't buy me healthSo I smoke a pint of tea a day
I knew a man, his brain was so smallHe couldn't think of nothing at allNot the same as you and meHe doesn't dig poetryHe's so unhip that when you say DylanHe thinks you're talking about Dylan ThomasWhoever he wasThe man ain't got no cultureBut it's alright, ma, everybody must get stoned
I been Mick Jaggered and silver daggeredAndy Warhol, won't you please come home?I been mother, father, aunt and uncledBeen Roy Haleed and Art GarfunkeledI just discovered somebody's tapped my phone
Folk rockI've lost my harmonica, Albert

Songwriter: Paul Simon
A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert McNamara’d Into Submission) lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

If you're unfamiliar with the tune, check it out here.

Now what's really hilarious is that when I Googled the lyrics for the song, a different version came up, whereupon I learned that Paul Simon originally recorded an England only version on his own before the Parslet, Sage version with Art G.
I was Union Jacked, Kerouac'dJohn Birched, stopped and searchedRolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blindI've been Ayn Randed, nearly brandedCommunist 'cos I'm lefthanded:That's the hand they use, well, never mind!
I've been Walt Disneyed, Dis DisleyedJohn Lennoned, Krishna MenonedWalter Brennan punched out Cassius ClayI've heard the truth from Lenny BruceAnd all my wealth won't buy me healthSo I smoke a pint of tea a day
I knew a man his brain so smallHe couldn't think of nothin' at allHe's not the same as you and meHe doesn't dig poetry. He's so unhip thatWhen you say Dylan, he thinks you're talkin' about Dylan ThomasWhoever he isThe man ain't got no cultureBut its alright, MaIt's just sumpthin' I learned over in England
I've been James Joyced, Rolls RoycedMick Jaggered, silver daggeredAndy Warhol won't you please come home?I've been mother, fathered, aunt and uncledTom Wilsoned, Art GarfunkledBarry Kornfeld's mother's on the phone
When in London, do as I doFind yourself a friendly haikuGo to sleep for ten or fifteen years

* * * 
Was this version recorded somewhere? The references on both are hilarious. Fwiw, Tom Wilson was Bob Dylan's producer in the early sixties, as well as Simon & Garfunkel's. "It's alright, Ma" is a classic from Bringing It All Back Home. "It's just something I learned over in England" is a variant on I Shall Be Free No. 10


1 comment:

  1. Some lines omitted from London version #been marooned,Vidal Sassooned#. And maybe some Paul might have included #been left mellowed,Saul Bellowed#.

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