(Newport Folk Festival 1965)
Listen:
closer
The voice of a generation is about to sing to you, the American spirit, the one who found himself in the woods, alone. The raw gritty rasps will fill your soul with the truth and beauty of the world. You can almost anticipate how the vibrations will resonant in your mind and ooze back out through your pores. That simple repetitious melody, the pure sound of an unaltered strum, from a single pick, his pick, the diva of folk music. You wait for the moment when your heart will swell up in your throat, the moment the first note of “Blowin’ in the Wind” escapes the speakers.
Listen:
closer
The voice of a generation is about to sing to you, the American spirit, the one who found himself in the woods, alone. The raw gritty rasps will fill your soul with the truth and beauty of the world. You can almost anticipate how the vibrations will resonant in your mind and ooze back out through your pores. That simple repetitious melody, the pure sound of an unaltered strum, from a single pick, his pick, the diva of folk music. You wait for the moment when your heart will swell up in your throat, the moment the first note of “Blowin’ in the Wind” escapes the speakers.
the moment has arrived the diva takes the stage
You are blown away. Blown away by a sound that does not conform to your understanding of folk or the signature of its leading figure. Tension arises. Distorted, dissonant, reverberating, fuzzy. The words “I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more” sound from the voice of a generation meaning nothing but noise and egotism. The American spirit, you, becomes angry, boos, and demands silence. The electrified troubadour continues against the background of rioting pacifists. You know from the collective reaction around you that this is a moment in history that will enliven and give further voice to the diva before you.
The collective voice does not have a grain, a particular timbre, tone, it is beyond quality. It is silent. Perhaps this silence has duped the American spirit into worshiping the power of the individual voice (the writer, the musician, the diva). But it is through collective voice’s silence that action may be heard.
“The best communion men have is in silence.” - Thoreau
