I'm discovering Shot of Love. Maybe for the first time.
The Sound on the album, the band puts together on this album, is simply outstanding. It's the best backing band I hear on a Dylan track since, well, maybe the Band.
They are tight, but with an languid flair that comes across sounding assured and laid back at the same time.
This band and this album captures the quintessence of the turn of 80s Dylan - hard driving but with a delicate melodic sensibility woven into the weft.
the opening track is the title song, setting up the album, a sound that's old school and at the same time fresh. Its a simple rocker, and perhaps one reason why listeners who never ventured further consider the album lightweight, lacking the intellectual heft of his pre christian catalogue and clubbed with the latter. But press on, and Shot of Love earns its place in the Dylan canon; impressing with its breadth of country funk rock to the glorious depth of Every grain of sand. It isnt perfect. Lenny Bruce draws on the patience but rewards lie further. Like the joy of gems like Watered Down love. A beauty in hiding all of these years.
'Heart of mine' a love song thats translated into one of the most sublime cover versions of a song, any song, ever.
The elevating touches of the sessions are the quartet of backing vocalists; gospel harmonies wrapping their beseeching tendrils around Dylan's raw but equally beseeching emotion. Passion clothed in velvet. The steady hand of Jim Keltner behind the kit ensures it grooves, with a cast that includes at different points, Fred Tackett, Danny Kortchmar, the inimitable Duck Dunn, Ringo and Ron Wood keeps the music cooking.
The real star of the album, to my ears may be the production of Chuck Plotkin. A legend already for his work on Nebraska, practised in the art of finishing of the rough hewn. Sand paper craft, as finely as needed but without varnish. you can feel the grain of the wood, warm to the touch. this may not be Dylan's best album, but it definitely deserves listening, much more listening. This may be one of Dylan's best albums.
In the days and weeks after I saw the midnight ramble, I thought that id sit down and put down some of my memories of it - in the blog. In procrastination its today a dirge.
Theres a lovely little digression in the last Waltz, where they talk of going up and playing with Sonny Boy Williamson, drinking Corn Liquor. So armed with what I could find in New York City I hopped on a train to the Hudson Valley.
My mate Shyam found me at the station, and after a Coffee and a bite, off we drove towards Woodstock, New York
Woodstock's a pretty town. Once you are past the 50 meters thats built for tourists and features the toke shop and tie die tshirts its not touristy at all. Shyam had found us a nice little bed and breakfast complete with a brook running by it and all that.
Its not the sort of show that you buy tickets to on ticketmaster.com...You call them and they have your names at the door - easy. In fact when my friend Shyam,who called to book, asked for an email confirmation the lady nicely responded "Why? don't you trust me?".
The Ramble itself is is a concert, but not like were used to. Levon Helm's Barn is a working studio. We go in to the little room before the entrance, where people have brought in cake and cookies laid on the table to share. Grab a bite say hello. The Barn itself had two levels, and probably had a total of 150 people in it. Nobody is more than a 100 feet from the stage. we found place right next to the mixing console, up on teh first floor, with a great view - 30 feet away from the action.
The evening itself started with a Band called Dawes. Id never heard of them, but they played a couple of songs in a nice rousing thumping way. You could see how they had drawn from The Band itself - tossing around vocals around the band. They played 3 songs, and then said they'd like to bring on a guest. And thats when my jaw dropped for the first time - "We'd like to call Jackson Browne onstage". He made a wry comment about "this is also a cover version" and loped easily into "Take it Easy".
After a 45 minute set, they Band took a break - and Barbara, the MC introduced "Jimmy Vivino". I had never heard of him either. Hesaid something about there being so many good guitar players in the house so he'd decided to play Piano instead. And soulfully played an old Band song. Very nice - at this point, he brought on his band - a simple Bass and drums ensemble, and played another old band song - the lovely "we can talk about it" Very nice so far. Jimmy took the mike after that and said "this is a tough gig, so I asked God for help, He was busy so he sent me someone as good as God, and in fact he even looks like God" - And that's when my jaw dropped for the second time. Garth Hudson, white bearded, wizened old and hunched. The rest of the set, all Band covers, was an exercise in pinching myself that this was real - I had come thinking Id see Levon Helm and the odd guest. The band hadnt come on et and Id already seen Jackson Browne, and Garth Hudson playing Stage Fright had to be the absolute pinnacle - I was sure that this couldnt get any better.
We went down during the break and came back up - and the Levon Helm Band was just setting up. And thats when my jaw dropped a third time. Settling in over at the Piano diagonally opposite me - not 20 yards away - Ray Bans, and a unbuttoned shirt over a black T short - looking very much the grumpy Uncle from your childhood whose cigarettes smelt a bit weird, and though he was prickly you suspected was cool - was Donald Fagen.
Centre stage was this tall guitarist with a long coat - flanked by two lady singers - one of whom we recognized as Levons daughter Amy. Levon himself came out with a big grin - and settled behind the drum kit. Even today - looking at so many photographs and videos - amazing is the warmth of his smile.
And the Band kicked off, and the tall guitarist - who I later identified as Larry Campbell came up to the mike and started singing "if your memory serves you well" - his voice, easy languid phrasing were so smooth that at that point it hit us that that this show hadnt hit its pinnacle - it was going higher.
Over the next few hours we heard Donald Fagen cover a grateful dead song "Shakedown street" (imagine that!!!), Theresa Campbell do a rousing version of an obscure favourite of mine called "Keep Your lamps trimmed and burning", Levon sang just one song - Ophelia, played Mandolin on a couple, Fagen sang another "Black Friday" and towards the end they brought Jackson Browne back "Like the rest of you, the only time I sung this song is in the car" to lead vocals on "Cripple Creek" and "It takes a lot to laugh"... both beauties. Finally at about 12.45... a good 5 hours after the music started it was over.
Shyam and I couldn't believe what we had witnessed. We still cant. I was so excited that I called Sahana and my old buddy Arjun - "I dont believe this but I just saw Donald Fagen live".
Driving back to the B&B and several times over the next day Shyam and I excitedly made plans to come back to the Ramble at the earliest next opportunity. That's not to be ....
The guidebook had said that Biak didn't hold much of interest unless you dived or were a World War II buff. That was about all I needed to book my ticket.
I should have got a hint that this was a bit off the beaten track when the air hostess in the Garuda flight I was chatting with repeated thrice over "your going to Biak for a holiday??". Not many people do that apparently.
Biak the slightly larger island at the top of the bay across from Manokwari on the map. Its technically part of Indonesian Central Papua, but the more I think about it, it has elements (and atolls) that probably give it stuff in common with Micronesia.
Got off the flight at 4.40 am and stumbled into what was pointed out as a taxi to the Hotel I had booked. Was a bit perturbed when the receptionist cum bell boy walked purposefully down the corridor towards the room armed with a can of room freshener and insecticide in each hand. But the room turned out to be OK. As it turned out the previously bemused Garuda air hostess was billeted in the next room. Stuff of teenage dreams. If the Diving wasn't as spectacular as it turned out, that may have been the highlight of the trip.
For most of my holiday I may have been the only tourist on the island. It at least felt that way. Apart from the Garuda crews, the hotel had Papuan families passing through on their way home for Christmas (Biak is a bit of a travel hub, a look at the departure screen at the airport was wonderful, i jotted down al the airport codes scheduled - CGK, TIM, MKW, DJJ, ZRI, NBX) and one Ships Master from New Guinea who was delivering a ferry from Okinawa to Port Moresby, but had run of fuel and money and was waiting for a wire between bank holidays). On the last day I ran into a Dutch couple arriving. Even they were actually on a bit of a mission, tracing the lives of parents who were married in Biak during the colonial era.
It was certainly a bit disconcerting. The first afternoon in taking a short walk to get my Bearings I by and large had done 3 laps around Kota Biak (Biak City). There wasnt another tourist in sight. Not a single backpacker, not even an obligatory ramshackle banana pancake, gnutella toast serving cafe piping in Bob Marley music. I had assumed there is one evereywhere that merits a mention in the Lonely Planet. Couple of guys in town looked a bit like Bob Marley though. And there was a rainbow.
Uncharted waters
A good part of the reason to head out east was to get a few days of diving in. There isnt a dive shop or formal dive operation in Biak. I had tracked down a couple of divemasters previously and made a few calls, one of them Erickson Farwas came over and met me. As we chatted, it seemed clear that he knew what he was doing, and was hired.
The good vessel " Dollar"
After the first day the crew put a little top on the boat, which came in very handy given how sunny it was
We then went out and found a boat and chartered a crew for 3 days. The good vessel "The Dollar" manned by John & Jerry.
The Crew - John & Jerry the first mate
Planning our next 3 days
The plan was simple - The Padaido Atoll , and while Erick was pointing out sites on a photocopied map of the area, one of them - slightly away from the Atoll caught my eye. Catalina Pt.
Bucket List Diving
Nice coincidence - Catalina was inscribed on our tanks
When I first sought out a diving licence years back, my ultimate mental image of diving was always the aspirational thought of a second wold war fighter plane submerged off some exotic South Sea island. The Catalina was a 2nd world war (Dutch) fighter plane which crashed off Biak. BINGO!!! I tripped on it so much I ended up diving it twice.
The Cockpit Seats
You can still see the machine gun barrels in place
There was this line of holes across the fuselage - either where a line of rivets had lost the battle with corrosion or perhaps (more evocatively) where the plane had been strafed before it went down?
The Monarch of all I survey?
Days were spent on the boat - with the boat coming to the hotel in the morning (literally) and me jumping on before we went our way. Boxed lunch between dives on uninhabited islands within the atoll. On one of them - while having lunch it struck me - this was completely Robinson Crusoe. And, it did take some getting used to.
The ground was full of shells that had been adopted by hermit crabs. weird.
We had lunch one day on this island (pulau rurbas kecil - to the left) which had a boarded up fisherman's hut. It was bizarre, soon after i landed, it appeared that all the shells on the island were moving. After a little checking it became apparent, that every single shell had been adopted by hermit crabs and they were every where, thousands and thousands of them constantly on the move. Creepy cool
The diving overall was spectacular. The walls were as good as Bunaken (my bar for these things).
One dive at Padaido may have been my best yet, and the next one - Goa wundi had a most spectacular entry - you go into a 10 meter diameter hole in the coral top which opens up into a channel with sun lit archways greeted by Tuna and opens up into a massive wall of coral. If you have ever played "Endless Ocean" on the Wii? - this was exactly it.
Meanwhile on the land
After a day on Kota Biak, I decided to move base for a couple of days to a little village called Bosnik on the East coast of Biak. Bosnik is now a little laid back fishing village, a couple of 100 meters down the road and I found i had walked into the next village. Theres more about WWII ahead, but at the time - Bosnik was where the allies made their landing on the island of Biak.
The Normandy of the Pacific Theatre
Christmas Tree - Papuan Style
The Local Trading Post/Supermarket/Beer Store
I took a walk in the evening hoping to catch a sunset on camera. The sun went down behind clouds, but the kids on the beach had these 400 watt smiles that really lit up in the twilight.
The War
It is a bit difficult to viasualise it now, Biak being relegated to a minor footnote of obscure places, and barely even on the backpacker trail.
But It was one of the more important battle grounds in the Pacific theatre of the second world war. An erstwhile colleague of mine had once pointed out a building in Tokyo where General MacArthur was officed. I'm sure his quarters in Biak were a lot less fancy.
I like that cap!!
It was quite easy however to see how Biak could have been of immense strategic importance. It lies at the mouth of the sheltered cendrawasih Bay with a long natural harbour, with the vast Pacific Ocean on the otherside.
ships can come up right to the airstrip
The main airstrip (now the airport) is several kilometers long (747's used Biak as a refueling stop between LAX-Jakarta pre Asian crisis) and along side the shore (allowing fuel ships direct access) and on the southern side of the island (and therefore sheltered from direct overhead access without warning).
from the fox hole looking over the long runway
A small promontory overlooks the airtrip - where even today the shell of an anti-aircraft foxhole stands lonely sentinel. The relics of the war are around town, and it was curious to see how the shaded area around the foxhole was now a quiet place for the locals to park their bikes and nonchalantly enjoy an afternoon brewski.
I believe more than 6000 soldiers from both sides died trying to defend Biak from each other.
Three thousand of those were Japanese infantry killed in what are now called the "Japanese caves". The Japanese had established their stronghold, and were picking off allied planes without the allies figuring where the attacks were coming from. I read that they were finally discovered by tracing the source of the firing, but a local gave me an alternate version that said that American soldiers shot and wounded a Japanese soldier and later followed him back through the woods and found the caves.
They finally overcame the defenders by bombing the caves with gasoline tanks, which they then shot bullets at from fighter planes. The fire apparently raged for weeks, with heart rending screams that eventually ended with 3,000 Japanese dying.
Later that day, I went looking for the museum. It was locked, but I found this guy sitting atop an old battle tank chewing betel, is if it was the most natural place for him.
Fish
The fish life in Biak/Padaido was truly amazing. In a single dive we saw Dog tooth Tuna, sharks, sting rays, Spanish Mackerel, Crocodile fish and didn't even bother keeping track of the reef fish. Given the amount of Tuna I saw in Biak. If I had enough money to own a refrigerated aeroplane with range enough to reach Haneda from Biak, I think would be rich.
One afternoon, while we were underwater diving, the crew were idling away their time waiting for us to surface, and in keeping themselves occupied caught 2 Tuna on a line. Easy Peasy.
Above water was no less interesting. I remembered reading a while back that a marine biologist team studying fish in Kalimantan just went every day to the local fish market, and over the course of the 6 month study this technique resulted in them identifying several new species to science. On my last evening I took a walk through the local fishmarket to see what else was around.
Apart from Tuna, yellow tail and other fish scattered around, what really caught the eye were the Marlin being filleted. Each of those were as big as the biggest steak I have seen.
A Little further on, I reached the Jetty where they were unloading one freshly caught. Far from exaggerating, I think I may be understating things a bit when I estimate its length at over 6 feet. It was clearly longer than a man is tall.
On the way back though I chanced upon something even more extraordinary. I stopped to examine a stall of what looked like Octopus. Leaning forward for a closer look, my first reflex was to think I was having a flashback of some sort. The lady there, obviously seeing my flabbergasted expression volunteered that they were still alive. Basically, there were these constantly changing patterns of ink under the skin of the creatures. Most peculiar and I have never seen anything like it in my life. I tried to capture it on video, which hopefully give a bit of an idea. Weirdness.
That's that
One last sunset and Back to Jakarta. Thanks for sticking with me and reaching this far
