The Song that transformed Bob Dylan

In the last chapter of Bob Dylan’s ‘Chronicles’ he writes about his time in New York in the early 60s. There were a handful of musicians that had considerable impact on the young Dylan – particularly Woody Guthrie, Dave Van Ronk and the recordings of Robert Johnston.

But there was one evening in 1963 that would expand Dylan’s concept of songwriting from a “little shack in the universe…into some glorious cathedral.”

This episode took place at the Theatre de Lys. His girlfriend at the time was working behind the scenes there in a presentation of songs written by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. One of the songs that night would ‘punch Dylan in the chin’ — it was the song known as ‘Pirate Jenny’ and it was from the ‘Three Penny Opera:

Within a few minutes I felt like I hadn’t slept or tasted food for about thirty hours, I was so into it. The song that made the strongest impression was a show-stopping ballad, “A Ship the Black Freighter.” Its real title was “Pirate Jenny,” but I didn’t hear that in the song so I didn’t know what the real title was. It was sung by some vaguely masculine woman, dressed up like a scrubbing lady who performs petty tasks, goes about making up beds in a ratty waterfront hotel. What drew me into the song at first was the line about the ship the black freighter, that comes after every verse. That particular line took me back to the foghorns of ships that I’d heard in my youth and the grandiosity of the sounds had stuck in my mind. Seemed like they were right on top of us.

Bob Dylan -‘Chronicles’

He writes more, it’s great stuff so here it is:

This is a wild song. Big medicine in the lyrics. Heavy action spread out. Each phrase comes at you from a ten-foot drop, scuttles across the road and then another one comes like a punch on the chin. And then there’s always that ghost chorus about the black ship that steps in, fences it all off and locks it up tighter than a drum. It’s a nasty song, sung by an evil fiend, and when she’s done singing, there’s not a word to say. It leaves you breathless. In the small theater when the performance reached its climactic end the entire audience was stunned, sat back and clutched their collective solar plexus. I knew why it did, too. The audience was the “gentlemen” in the song. It was their beds that she was making up. It was their post office that she was sorting mail in, and it was their school she was teaching in. This piece left you flat on your back and it demanded to be taken seriously. It lingered. Woody had never written a song like that.

Bob Dylan -‘Chronicles’

He unpacks the song and studies it at a time when he is just developing his craft:

I took the song apart and unzipped it—it was the form, the free verse association, the structure and disregard for the known certainty of melodic patterns to make it seriously matter, give it its cutting edge. It also had the ideal chorus for the lyrics. I wanted to figure out how to manipulate and control this particular structure and form which I knew was the key that gave “Pirate Jenny” its resilience and outrageous power. I’d think about this later in my dumpy apartment. I hadn’t done anything yet, wasn’t any kind of songwriter but I’d become rightly impressed by the physical and ideological possibilities within the confines of the lyric and melody. I could see that the type of songs I was leaning towards singing didn’t exist and I began playing with the form, trying to grasp it—trying to make a song that transcended the information in it, the character and plot.

Bob Dylan -‘Chronicles’

And in the final analysis, according to Dylan, many of his own songs wouldn’t have found form without ‘Pirate Jenny’ — quite an incredible thing to contemplate:

In a few years’ time, I’d write and sing songs like ‘It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding),’ ‘Mr. Tambourine Man,‘ ‘Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll,‘ ’Who Killed Davey Moore,‘ ’Only a Pawn in Their Game,‘ ’A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall‘ and some others like that. If I hadn’t gone to the Theatre de Lys and heard the ballad ‘Pirate Jenny’ it might not have dawned on me to write them, that songs like these could be written

Bob Dylan -‘Chronicles’

Here’s Nina Simone’s version of the song…it’s a journey so sit back and give it 5 minutes and imagine Dylan back in 63’…taking it all in:

Lyrics:

You people can watch while I’m scrubbing these floors
And I’m scrubbin’ the floors while you’re gawking
Maybe once ya tip me and it makes ya feel swell
In this crummy Southern town
In this crummy old hotel
But you’ll never guess to who you’re talkin’
No, you couldn’t ever guess to who you’re talkin’

Then one night there’s a scream in the night
And you’ll wonder who could that have been
And you see me kinda grinnin’ while I’m scrubbin’
And you say, “What’s she got to grin?”
I’ll tell you

There’s a ship
The Black Freighter
With a skull on its masthead
Will be coming in

You gentlemen can say: “Hey gal, finish them floors!
Get upstairs! What’s wrong with you! Earn your keep here!”
You toss me your tips
And look out to the ships
But I’m counting your heads
As I’m making the beds
Cuz there’s nobody gonna sleep here
Tonight, nobodys gonna sleep here, honey
Nobody
Nobody!

Then one night there’s a scream in the night
And you say: “Who’s that kicking up a row?”
And ya see me kinda starin’ out the winda
And you say: “What’s she got to stare at now?”
I’ll tell ya

There’s a ship
The Black Freighter
Turns around in the harbor
Shootin’ guns from her bow

Now, you gentlemen can wipe off that smile off your face
Cause every building in town is a flat one
This whole frickin’ place will be down to the ground
Only this cheap hotel standing up safe and sound
And you yell: “Why do they spare that one?”
Yes, that’s what you say: “Why do they spare that one?”

All the night through, through the noise and to-do
You wonder who is that person that lives up there?
And you see me stepping out in the morning
Looking nice with a ribbon in my hair

And the ship
The Black Freighter
Runs a flag up its masthead
And a cheer rings the air

By noontime the dock
Is a-swarmin’ with men
Comin’ out from the ghostly freighter
They move in the shadows
Where no one can see
And they’re chainin’ up people
And they’re bringin’ em to me
Askin’ me
“Kill them NOW, or LATER?”
Askin’ ME!
“Kill them now, or later?”

Noon by the clock
And so still at the dock
You can hear a foghorn miles away
And in that quiet of death
I’ll say, “Right now
Right now!”

Then they pile up the bodies
And I’ll say
“That’ll learn ya!”

And the ship
The Black Freighter
Disappears out to sea
And on it is me