Part of why this is a pick for me is the song, part is the words, part is the mood. Not so much the performance, but this video is special for another reason. The Newport Folk Festival in Rhode Island where folk music performers and lovers came together each year. But this year, 1965, was auspicious because Dylan first played electric, as above. This song played then was considered by all, those who hated it and those who loved it, historic. As a radio announcer of the time put it: “He electrified one half of his audience, and electrocuted the other.”
The Folk audience, that is, hated it. They felt sold out because someone they admired and even loved went beyond where they were. Their identities threatened, I suppose nowadays we would say many of them cancelled him after screaming their anger. Honestly, is that much different than various leftists becoming apoplectic at Chomsky because he had the audacity to say we should vote Biden in contested states? Insecurity birthing stupidity is not confined to any one epoch or constituency. And I am happy to report that as much as I loved his earlier work, I was electrified by his choice to plug in his guitar. The performance isn’t optimal, let’s say, and the studio/album version is optimal, in case you want to give that a try. And there are lots of covers if you must, for example Rage Against the Machine.
Here are the lyrics… and further down I offer as well the lyrics to another song called Positively Fourth Street.
PS electric won and it didn’t take long. Look up Janis Joplin at Newport in 1968.
Maggie’s Farm
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
Well, I wake in the morningFold my hands and pray for rainWith a head full of ideas that are drivin’ me insaneIt’s a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s brother no more
He hands you a nickel when he hands you a dimeAsk you with a grin, “Are you havin’ a good time?”Then he fines you every time you slam the door
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s pa no more
Talks to servants about man and God and lawEverybody says he’s the brains behind maHe’s 68 but says he’s 24
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
I ain’t gonna work for Maggie’s ma no more
Well, she puts her cigar out in my face just for kicksHer bedroom window is made out of bricksThe National Guard stands around her door
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more
I try my best to be just like I amEverybody wants you to be just like themThey say sing while you slave, I just get bored
==
Positively Fourth Street
This one is Bob talking trash, one might say nowadays, back at his former friends. It wasn’t confined to the Newport Festival, happened quite a bit for quite a while as he went Rock.
You don’t want to be nasty to Bob…
