tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58421039006259431222024-03-08T13:24:30.774-08:00Outta My HeadDave Hardinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727061570951938466noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5842103900625943122.post-34626251633339129352012-09-06T12:12:00.000-07:002012-09-08T13:39:08.041-07:00Good Luck<br />
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Next to small glen leading into Umpqua River. Sheltered under big elm trees. Everything alive and close-up. Y'know, 'Down by the River'. I camped within 10 miles of here last summer - before Medford Dylan show - now here again day after Dylan show. A great circle. A year of new things. Trials and tribulations.<br />
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Gotta take Dylan's advice- 'Good Luck' at the end of every song. Just keep on rollin', don't let the bastards get you down. Be healthy, courageous - on a path or quest. Stay focused. Quit smoking (as I light up first of the day), drinking so much whiskey. Get in line!</div>
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For Bobby</div>
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Ramble Tamble on Blue Street</div>
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Back shadow display on the curtain</div>
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Let us into the Wizards Den</div>
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Take me down the road to Oz</div>
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Knockin' on the cupboard</div>
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Daddy's looking for the food</div>
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Hear them bells a-ringin'</div>
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The Sugar Daddy's in town</div>
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Forever younger everyday</div>
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Surely the pearly gates must call</div>
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Shrug it off with a flick of the wrist</div>
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One more hoe-down, one more joint</div>
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Teach me the wisdom of the road</div>
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Open my eyes with your song</div>
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Never going back to my home</div>
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Alive by the riverside</div>
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Show-Buck Dancer in your prime</div>
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Southern Gentleman to the heart</div>
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Let me forget about today</div>
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Til tomorrow we sing again</div>
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Until we meet again</div>
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I'll remember you</div>
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How that harmonica of the ghosts</div>
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You blew forever free</div>
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Written on the banks of the Umpqua River in Southern Oregon on October 10, 2001. I had seen Bob Dylan and his Band perform the previous night in Central Point, Oregon.<br />
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Writing this in dying Western light up on wind crest in Siskiyous just north of Cave Junction. Listening to rusty, soulful, lashing stone and gravel "House Carpenter" Ghost Song by the Man.</div>
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Great sunset drive out of Lee and Holly's in Phoenix. Pastor burrito at corner place, falling in love with big wild woman with baby. Then Ray's Market - girls, girls, oh girls.</div>
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Found this Onion Mountain retreat off forest road. Feeling great. Restorative time. New Country. New feel. I can sense the largeness of the Ocean and the Redwoods.</div>
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Dylan is the new God. Reborn getting stronger. Growing out of crevices. Expanding, deepening. Graceful texture and tone. 'Who's gonna throw that Minstrel Boy a coin?' </div>
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I will toss a gold one.</div>
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Writing here by candlelight wind in the trees. Bobby singing about walking down the line. Suntanned mountain goat, eating fruit and ganja, keeping it right.</div>
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Looking up to pitch black star theatre drinking Beck's listening to magical Genuine Basement Tapes. Incredible Holy Grail Haven of musical genius.</div>
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Akin to the live shows that Dylan is playing these days. Steeped in American music. Preacher, vaudeville dancer, medicine man shyster, mover, Buddy Holly, Elvis, Tony Bennett, healer, shaman, lion tamer, bluesman, hopscotch musician. So grand, the Minstrel Boy barnstorming for the masses. Taking in the applause with a smiling knowing acknowledgement of his place in the history of American music. Duke Ellington, Robert Johnson, Miles, Coltrane, Muddy, Wolf, Monk, Dizzy, Bird, Satchmo, Elvis, Sinatra, Dylan. Don't forget Hank, Chuck and Buddy. Incredible rich tapestry of strength and integrity.</div>
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Rank Strangers - Jesus - singing my song</div>
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Tangled Up In Blue</div>
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It's Alright, Ma</div>
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Down in the Flood</div>
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-explosive, rising, ripping, falling</div>
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Forever Young - man, that says all you gotta say, it sums it all up.</div>
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Written on Onion Mountain in Southern Oregon on June 21, 2000. The night before I had seen Bob Dylan and his Band perform in Central Point, Oregon. </div>
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Basement Tapes</div>
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Real Sgt. Pepper</div>
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Keeper of time</div>
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And timelessness</div>
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Underground Stax</div>
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Rhythmn and Blues Picasso</div>
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Lightning Fast</div>
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And Tarzan Smile</div>
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c 2012 Dave Harding</div>
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Dave Hardinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727061570951938466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5842103900625943122.post-11452327310546318092012-08-30T11:55:00.002-07:002012-08-30T13:04:33.836-07:00Waiting For a Light to Shine<br />
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In the Pines In the Pines<br />
Where the sun never shines<br />
That's where I'm camped tonight<br />
On Mary's Peak (on the Oregon Coastal Mountain Range)<br />
In an early October Drizzle<br />
Fog on my left <br />
The dead night on my right<br />
Bonnie Ship the Diamonds<br />
Basement dialogue and dance<br />
Feeling together and fun<br />
And daring<br />
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Gill Collesium get down<br />
Tonight in Corvallis<br />
In Person and Show<br />
The Last Minstrel<br />
Of our lifetime<br />
One every 200 years passes<br />
Through these parts sermonizing<br />
With such passion<br />
And Fire and Blood<br />
The Eternal Time Keeper<br />
Of American Song<br />
Righteous and Self Knowing<br />
The True American Buddha<br />
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Glistened with eternal<br />
Knowing and kindred soul<br />
Spirit in passing wisps of<br />
Night and day<br />
Spring and Fall<br />
All together in one masterful<br />
Sweep of brotherhood and rythmn<br />
Tony, Charlie, Larry, David, & Bob<br />
Time Bandits in mock respite<br />
Torn off of history book pages<br />
Ripples of introspection<br />
Layered with regret<br />
Yesterday's message in today's <br />
Headlines-<br />
Blowin' in the Wind<br />
-How many more times <br />
will the cannonballs fly?<br />
Knockin' on Heaven's Door<br />
-Wipe these tears from my eyes<br />
-Mama take these guns off of me<br />
I can't shoot them anymore<br />
A Soilder's Grave<br />
-Pure honesty<br />
It's Alright, Ma<br />
It's All Over Now, Baby Blue<br />
-All your reindeer armies are now rowing home<br />
Waiting for The Light<br />
Desolation Row<br />
Masters of War<br />
Positively 4th Street<br />
Don't Think Twice<br />
Watching the River Flow<br />
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum<br />
Cold Irons Bound<br />
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Driven up Mary's Peak Roadway<br />
Listening to Bill Monroe<br />
Drinking smoking in foggy soggy<br />
Of early October<br />
Sitting in truck cab 1:19 am<br />
Tent moved to drier place<br />
Under base of pine tree<br />
Gonna head in soon<br />
Savoring this time<br />
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-Written after seeing Bob Dylan and his band perform at Gill Colliseum in Corvallis, Oregon on October 7, 2001.The evening prior to the concert the United States government began bombing Afganistan.<br />
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Dream Record September 10, 1998</div>
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Dreamed I was sitting in the front row of a Bob Dylan concert, actually on the left side of the stage. The band was rocking, doing songs I had never heard before. One song had a Sonic Youth feel to it.</div>
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I was there with two friends, Sweet Torcher and Weimsy.</div>
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Dylan started to come over and grin at us while he was jamming. I held eye contact with him for what felt like 15 seconds. He seemed to look into me and know me. I felt a strong presence of Roy Orbison and Buddy Holly.</div>
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He came over again and said (more to my friends than to me) "Do you wanna take the train down to the Eugene show tomorrow night?" We hollered our acceptence. Free tickets and a train ride; seventh heaven.</div>
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A little later Dylan was talking to the audience, telling them about some of the changes he has gone through since the last time he was here. My friend on my left, Sweet Torcher, yelled out "And you've lost 28 pounds".</div>
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Dylan came over, not thinking the comment too funny. There was some mention about us not going to the Eugene show after all, then things got weird.</div>
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The rest of my dream was me trying to get on a train, walking through the streets of a small town, </div>
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alone.</div>
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Dave Hardinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727061570951938466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5842103900625943122.post-76175127382304057592012-04-21T13:19:00.003-07:002012-08-30T12:03:34.494-07:00Reckless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Rude Wild & Reckless in LeipzigDave Hardinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727061570951938466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5842103900625943122.post-20763832075006862182012-04-21T13:07:00.002-07:002012-08-30T12:06:40.637-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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How do you say 'Super-Size me' in Croatian?Dave Hardinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10727061570951938466noreply@blogger.com0