I love when I'm on the road, and music finds me. I sometimes feel like I'm in a Martin Scorsese (especially his early stuff) or Wes Anderson (pretty much every movie he's made) movie. Those two guys are the absolute masters of finding rock songs and marrying them to striking images. Those are the movie moments that totally imprint on my brain matter - bring some kind of transcendence.
Anyway, in the jimmydumps/sunnyjimmy movie that I'm in, I was on the road yesterday, making the long city trek from my humble abode to my brother's rehearsal space in Wicker Park. A long excursion through the cityscape. Always a trip. I found myself in a hipster joint on Milwaukee in the middle of hipster heaven. A place called Earwax. Which might not sound all that appealing, but really is.
On the music box they were playing Bob Dylan's "Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands." This is one of those unlikely Dylan masterpieces, I doubt whether he ever did it live. Wonder what those session cats in Nashville back in 1966 thought when Dylan pulled out reams of lyrics? Anyway, it's sort of a long, ploddy song, that takes flight. And the obscure and mysterious lyrics just send me to another realm. Love it.
With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace,
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,
And your basement clothes and your hollow face,
Who among them can think he could outguess you?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims,
And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,
Who among them would try to impress you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
And the little hipster boys and girls in Earwax, with their cool tattoos, and nose rings, and skinny pants and cool cat smiles, what did they think of me, the old beat dude with the guitar slung over my shoulder, with this big shit-eating grin coming over my face as the the organ swells and the shimmering guitars washed over over me. And the girl at the counter had a Mona Lisa smile too.
I kind of felt like I sprouted wings and floated to other lands. And it was all alright. Yes, it was...
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