By Ashley Zimmerman
By Dana Krangel
By John Hood
By Ashley Zimmerman
By David Von Bader
By Sayre Berman
By Steve Brennan
By Ashley Zimmerman
This matchup from opposing sides of the 1960s cultural divide could be a bandleader battle royale: The Hag fronting the ever-reliable Strangers, chugging like a well-oiled locomotive through a canon that dips into everything from blues to Dixieland to Western swing to the mightiest honky-tonk shuffle on the planet; and Dylan, challenging the latest lineup of his combo (on his seemingly never-ending tour of the past decade-plus) to follow his lead through the constantly changing set list and "strike another match and start anew" in the nightly reinvention of his songs. But look closer at both artists and you'll find that something strange has emerged in America's greatest living poets since the '60s: a surprising commonality.
Let's not forget that Haggard wrote "Okie From Muskogee" as a wry joke on his fans and proverbial country kinfolk for the amusement of the boys on the bus as they rolled through his spiritual native land of Oklahoma. Today, check out "Where's All the Freedom" on his latest CD, Chicago Wind, and it sure sounds like the onetime fervent flag-waver is wondering what the ultimate price of the Patriot Act and Homeland Security will be in these post-September 11 times.
Then there's Dylan's time proselytizing for Jesus in such numbers as "Neighborhood Bully" and "Union Sundown" on his 1983 album Infidels that don't exactly follow leftist cant. But he is, after all, the guy who warned us early on "Don't follow leaders" and since then has zigzagged so wildly, it'd drive a fan nuts to follow "Mr. Tambourine Man" in any fashion other than musically.
Instead of left versus right, this bill matches two highly iconoclastic and fervent individualists (as well as notorious loners) for whom folk, in Dylan's case, and country, when it comes to Haggard, were just starting points, not permanent labels.
Really, this pairing's friction comes only from that of two kindred souls and fellow travelers on parallel musical paths hopefully a friendly and mutually respectful cutting contest that should invoke the best from both, who are, after all, the finest American musical artists performing today. Whether it's Haggard's "Workin' Man Blues" or Dylan's "Tom Thumb's Blues," it's all from the same root, has ridden similar roads, and is believe it or not, for all their seeming differences sung by much the same guy. Decades ago, few would have ever believed even the notion of this show. Today, it makes perfect sense. Rob Patterson
Bob Dylan and His Band and Merle Haggard and the Strangers play at 7:30 p.m. Thursday, May 11, at the Seminole Hard Rock, 1 Seminole Way, Hollywood. Tickets cost $60 to $200. Call 954-523-3309.
Quick-tongued MC Jean Grae carries a scorching, relentless wit, but she doesn't have to be on the mic to wreak havoc. Fed up with fighting for recognition and paychecks, she wrote an op-ed piece for Allhiphop.com in late 2004 that created a buzz throughout the hip-hop world. Grae took the industry to task in a firestorm of rage, regret, and revulsion.
"I hate the music business because it has shit to do with music," she wrote. "I don't even know why I fucking put my heart into doing this when it's obvious that so many people who don't, get what they want out of it... Why do I have to keep turning out entire albums or releases full of music when some cat can spit on a mixtape once, or give someone a pound and then get on immediately? Why try to do something that's apparently so fucking different and impossible, that I have to defend it to myself everyday?
"What am I supposed to do? I'm tired of writing because everything is coming out angry and I don't want to be that person... Fuck the rap game. It's not about the music or the heart or how hard you play. Fuck you for not letting me in, cowards." (Read the whole thing at www.allhiphop.com/features/?ID=736.)
Today, Grae sighs at the mention of the editorial. "It was a frustrating day. Like anyone else, you get frustrated about your job, and you gotta vent somewhere," she says. "So I think there was a point where I definitely regretted writing it, and then the regret kind of led to 'Whatever happens, happens.'
"And there has to be a reason it got around so much. There was definitely something in it that struck a nerve," adds the surprisingly soft-spoken MC, who proudly describes being recognized one day by a father and his young son. "He pointed to his son and said, 'Remember that thing I had you read about the music industry? This is the lady that wrote it. '"