Mama, You’ve Been On My Mind

Adding a post based on a discussion Greg and I are having in regards to the Dylan song below and the one by Leonard Cohen in which he reminisces “I don’t mean to suggest that I loved you the best. I don’t keep track of each falling rock. (A nice additional dis, there). I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel. That’s all, I don’t even think of you that often.”

This is basically an open-ended discussion about the reflection of past relationships in song by these poetical masters. In contrast to that dumbass song “you’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you” when in fact the song clearly IS about “you” (James Taylor) Our conclusion is that both Cohen and Dylan are much deeper and more mature in their approach to the subject matter.

Mama, You’ve Been On My Mind – by Bob Dylan

Perhaps it’s the color of the sun cut flat
An’ cov’rin’ the crossroads I’m standing at,
Or maybe it’s the weather or something like that,
But mama, you been on my mind.

I don’t mean trouble, please don’t put me down or get upset,
I am not pleadin’ or sayin’, “I can’t forget.”
I do not walk the floor bowed down an’ bent, but yet,
Mama, you been on my mind.

Even though my mind is hazy an’ my thoughts they might be narrow,
Where you been don’t bother me nor bring me down in sorrow.
It don’t even matter to me where you’re wakin’ up tomorrow,
But mama, you’re just on my mind.

I am not askin’ you to say words like “yes” or “no,”
Please understand me, I got no place for you t’ go.
I’m just breathin’ to myself, pretendin’ not that I don’t know,
Mama, you been on my mind.

When you wake up in the mornin’, baby, look inside your mirror.
You know I won’t be next to you, you know I won’t be near.
I’d just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear
As someone who has had you on his mind.

(from Greg’s e-mail):

Particularly interesting, as regards our discussion of understatement, is his use of the double negative in the fourth stanza. “pretendin’ not that I don’t know”. That is, he’s admitting to himself that he’s thinking about her, even though he goes to great pains to say, “Hey, I’m not that serious or anything, you know”. This would all make good subject matter for that blog page of Danny’s.

This entry was posted in music. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Mama, You’ve Been On My Mind

  1. Danny says:

    I am a particular fan of the Leonard Cohen song- it has a mournful steady rhythm to it that I can always quickly recall. Unlike the cultivated air of mystery around “You’re So Vain”, I think it is more or less certain that Cohen is referring to Janis Joplin in his song. In fact, after a little web research, I came up with this:

    A long time ago, I met a beautiful young woman in an elevator in New York City. I used to bump into her at about three in the morning, every night.
    After a while I gathered up my courage and I said to her “Are you looking for something?” And she said “Yes, I’m looking for something.”

    I knew by the tone of her voice that she wasn’t trying to realise some unfulfilled potential of her inner nature but she was actually looking for something.
    I said, “Who or what are you looking for?” She said “Kris Kristofferson.” I said “I am Kris Kristofferson.” And I deceived her for many nights.

    And a long time after that I found myself at a bar in a Polynesian restaurant in Miami Beach, leaning over a napkin and one of those drinks that they serve in a porcelain coconut shell. I was writing a song for this very lady. I was the very image of myself — 40 years old, thin, neglected, with a great song on my mind. It took me a while to finish it. It’s for Janis Joplin at the Chelsea Hotel.

    Concert introduction : Montreux 1985

    “There was the sole indiscretion, in my professional life, that I deeply regret, because I associated a woman’s name with a song, and in the song I mentioned, I used the line “giving me head on an unmade bed while the limousines wait in the street”, and I’ve always disliked the locker-room approach to these matters, I’ve never spoken in any concrete terms of a woman with whom I’ve had any intimate relationships. And I named Janis Joplin in that song, I don’t know when it started, but I connected her name with the song, and I’ve been feeling very bad about that ever since, it’s an indiscretion for which I’m very sorry, and if there is some way of apologizing to the ghost, I want to apologize now, for having committed that indiscretion.”

    BBC Radio Interview : Leonard Cohen
    ©1994 BBC Radio

    original page where I found this

    For context, here are the lyrics (note that it is fallen robin, a term that somehow seems more Cohen-like)

    Chelsea Hotel #2

    I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
    you were talking so brave and so sweet,
    giving me head on the unmade bed,
    while the limousines wait in the street.
    Those were the reasons and that was New York,
    we were running for the money and the flesh.
    And that was called love for the workers in song
    probably still is for those of them left.

    Ah but you got away, didn’t you babe,
    you just turned your back on the crowd,
    you got away, I never once heard you say,
    I need you, I don’t need you,
    I need you, I don’t need you
    and all of that jiving around.

    I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
    you were famous, your heart was a legend.
    You told me again you preferred handsome men
    but for me you would make an exception.
    And clenching your fist for the ones like us
    who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
    you fixed yourself, you said, “Well never mind,
    we are ugly but we have the music.”

    And then you got away, didn’t you babe…

    I don’t mean to suggest that I loved you the best,
    I can’t keep track of each fallen robin.
    I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
    that’s all, I don’t even think of you that often.

    It is my opinion that while both of these men are in a contemplative mood, that is mostly the end of the similarities. Dylan’s song has this lonesome quality, like he is half indulging in a bit of the blues over a woman he knew where things went bad, or maybe just died a sort of quiet neglected death. And, being the author of the song, he gets to wallow in a little bit of self-effacing denial. Cohen’s song seems to be more of a pensive recollection, without the flagellation.

  2. tjm says:

    Good stuff. I might not see eye to eye on the Dylan-Cohen differences though. Cohen’s might be more poetic, but I think of the two it’s the one that’s more self indulgent. He seems almost pretentious referring to himself as a “worker in song” and his topic is as much about the lifestyle of the bohemian musician as it is about his past relationship. I also think Cohen’s relationship is, as he puts it, more of an “indiscretion” – something that was a product of his lifestyle. I get the feeling the subject of Dylan’s song was more meaningful to him and that he has accomplished what many find so hard to do, and is thinking fondly of a lost love. I think it conveys a very healthy ability to deal with loss and still reflect on the past.

  3. Danny says:

    Maybe so, maybe so. My point is that it is hard to say who might have had a more meaningful relationship. After all, we only get to see the song as the singer chose to present it. Might not Dylan have positioned his so that its most poignant, most artistic, most meaningful side reflected the most light?
    Isn’t Cohen just the type to position his song so that it catches just enough light to show how it is permanently stuck halfway between heaven and the gutter? Lots of Cohen songs seem to me to be like that: brilliant paintings of dirty alleys. Wonderful beautiful songs about dirty grey dishwater. Trying to think of an example, I am bombarded by songs: Suzanne, That’s No Way to Say(Goodbye), Hallelujah, Bird on a Wire, etc, etc, forever.
    To get back on track: there is no practical way to find out who wins the most meaningful relationship prize between Cohen and Dylan, and further impossible to say who is be the “most” honest. In the end, it is the cliche: “It is all how you interpret the song”.
    In either case, they both beat the hell out of “You’re So Vain”. Mostly because of the grating chorus: “Donchoo?, Donchoo??, DonchooOOOooo???”

  4. tjm says:

    Brilliant painting of dirty alleys, that’s a very nice and accurate way to think of Cohen songs.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *