One spring afternoon in 2009, during a tour of the childhood homes of Paul McCartney and John Lennon, a few individuals noticed something vaguely familiar about another member of their group. He had a weathered face, partially concealed by a hoodie, and a pencil moustache. As it turned out, it was Bob Dylan, who had paid £16 to quietly visit these shrines dedicated to his two old friends.
An Unexpected Encounter
In Lennon's bedroom, Dylan was captivated by a copy of a Just William book. 'Hey man,' the rocker demanded. 'Who's that Just William dude?' The tour guide recalled the bizarre experience of explaining to Bob Dylan the appeal of Richmal Crompton's hilarious stories about a rebellious 11-year-old and his adventures with a gang of friends called The Outlaws. These tales had inspired a young Lennon to lead his own gang one day, which would become the most successful pop group of all time.
Parallel Careers and Wit
As revealed in this fantastic comparative biography, which details the parallel careers of Dylan and The Beatles and how they intertwined, both acts shared a talent for deadpan wit. Beatles' press conferences often resembled comedy routines. When asked why their music excited people so much, Lennon shot back, 'If we knew, we'd form another group and be managers.' At his early gigs, Dylan would fiddle with his cap and guitar capo, pretending to be clumsy until people smiled. When a journalist inquired what his songs were 'about,' he replied, 'Some are about four minutes, some are about five, and some, believe it or not, are about 11 or 12.'
Cultural Significance and Friendship
The justification for pairing these two acts is that they broke around the same time and achieved comparable cultural significance. They also became friends, and it's rather nice to travel back to the mid-1960s and bask in this rock music microcosm of the Special Relationship. The Beatles attended Dylan concerts, and Dylan returned the compliment. They hung out together in hotel rooms and got high. They also influenced each other, which sometimes raised tensions. For instance, when Lennon wrote the folksy 'Norwegian Wood,' Dylan felt he was stealing his sound, so he wrote '4th Time Around' to the same tune. In a Mayfair hotel, Dylan played the song to Lennon and watched his reaction. 'What do you think?' Dylan demanded. 'I don't like it,' Lennon deadpanned.
Answer Songs and Influences
Windolf, an American writer for publications like Vanity Fair, argues that many of these songs speak to each other, calling them 'answer songs.' Thus, The Beatles' 'I Want You (She's So Heavy)' answers Dylan's 'I Want You.' After Dylan shared his newfound Christianity on 'Gotta Serve Somebody,' a cynical Lennon responded with 'Serve Yourself.' Meanwhile, Dylan's stripped-down 'John Wesley Harding' is an 'answer album,' reacting to the overblown circus quality of The Beatles' 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band'—which, of course, features Dylan among the stars on its cover. Charmingly, the cover of Dylan's album 'Nashville Skyline' is an answer of sorts, showing Dylan wielding a Gibson guitar (a gift from George Harrison), tipping his hat, and smiling—a way of saying thank you.
Deep Friendships
Like Lennon, Harrison had a deep friendship with Dylan. He once half-seriously considered inviting him to join The Beatles, and perhaps he might have done so, as he did in the late 1980s when Harrison formed the jokey supergroup The Traveling Wilburys. Dylan once remarked that The Beatles 'took all the music we’d been listening to and showed it to us again.' This wonderful volume achieves a similar feat with its subject matter, offering a real rolling stone of a read, by turns funny, fascinating, and deeply moving. 'Where the Music Had to Go' is available now from the Mail Bookshop.
A Minor Criticism
My only criticism is that Windolf sometimes presents The Beatles' Liverpudlian accents phonetically, which can feel clunky. He doesn't do the same for Dylan's Midwestern twang. For example, 'Yes, I wanna meet im, but on me own terms,' Lennon said of Dylan. Or the punchline to the story of how Lennon once let singer Joan Baez crash in his bed at a party. Later that night, although exhausted, he felt obliged to make a pass. When she gently told him he really didn't have to, he supposedly replied, 'What a relief! Because, you see, well, you might say I’ve already been fooked downstairs.'
Expanding Musical Horizons
As the title of the book suggests, Dylan and The Beatles expanded our idea of what rock music could be. Yet Windolf also finds room for playful connections. Spurred on by his avant-garde wife Yoko Ono, Lennon once made a 15-minute film of his penis, which he called 'Self-Portrait.' Soon afterward, Dylan disappointed his fans by releasing an album of cover versions, also called 'Self-Portrait.' Critics were barely more impressed by it than by Lennon’s offering. There's something stirring about the stubbornness and humour with which these guys have met life's challenges. For example, when a madman declared his intention to shoot Dylan in 1966, the singer remarked, 'I don’t mind being shot, man, but I don’t dig being told about it.' Or in 1999, after an intruder had stabbed Harrison repeatedly at his home, the former Beatle was asked if the man had intended to kill him. 'Well, I don’t think he was auditioning for The Traveling Wilburys,' he replied.
A Lasting Impression
Returning to Dylan’s visit to Lennon’s home in 2009, it obviously made a profound impression on him. A few years later, he wrote 'Roll On, John,' a heartfelt tribute to his late friend. The lyrics refer to Lennon’s murder in 1980 ('They shot him in the back and down he went') while quoting some of The Beatles' best-known lines, such as 'I heard the news today, oh boy.' After reading this book, it is hard to listen to this song without choking up. Asked at the time of its release what he thought about Lennon, Dylan replied: 'I wish that he was still here, because we could talk about a lot of things now.'
