Masters of War: Dylan and the Sixties
The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan was released in 1963. I was 6. My older brother went off to Viet Nam in 1966 and returned in one piece in 1967. He was a big fan of Dylan. I was a big fan of my big brother. He played the guitar and turned me on to lots of good music. And he bought me ice-cream from the Good Humor Man when my parents said “no.”
I didn’t really like Bob Dylan when I was still in the single digits. My parents made fun of him. They said he was lousy. That was the word they used. Lousy. His voice did sound odd to me. He didn’t sing like the Beatles. I was confused because I liked all the other music that my brother played. Masters of War was the first Dylan record where I realized that my parents were wrong and my brother was right.
Bob Dylan was the conscience and the reluctant spokesman of a generation. His music and words from his classic records (1962-1966) still speak volumes to me. I listen to those records and marvel at the depth of his insight and wisdom at such a young age, and his ability to say it so eloquently. His lyrics remain unequaled in the genre.
I have a distinct memory of my brother playing “Masters of War” and talking to me about it. The year was probably 1965. Perhaps he knew at the time he’d be drafted soon, perhaps not. He would invite me into his room and talk to me about things in a way that my parents never did. When we had these talks he would treat me with respect and listen to my opinions. He always had music on. He told me that the song was about the bad men who made money from wars.
That concept was a stark and sobering revelation, and it was pivotal in shaping my world-view. It seemed that Bob Dylan was in the room with his guitar, singing to them and explaining it to me. He was serious. I could see the old men in their suits sitting behind their desks and smoking their cigars, smiling and counting their money while sending boys off to die so they could get rich. I hated them. I could hear the anger and pain and the feeling of powerlessness in the music. It was chilling.
It still is.
Masters of War
by Bob Dylan
Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain
You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead
Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music
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Sort of reminds me of these people.
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[Originally posted over at my place in November of '05. I re-read it and cleaned it up a bit for this classy joint.]
It remains startling to think of how early and how young Dylan wrote “Masters of War”. For all the identifying Dylan with the anti-Viet Nam war movement, the fact is that his writing and singing transcended that war, though it is not hard to see how the ominous events of those days made that impossible to recognize. I don’t recall the words “Viet Nam” ever appearing in a Dylan song. As the sixties and the war burned on, Dylan, at the height of his powers, was beset on all sides, from conservative society for his anti-establishment persona and statements, from the folk music bundists for the breadth of his artistic vision, and from the anti-war movement for not converting his career and his very being to a tool to protest the war. By the mid 60’s he had already given the movement and world his voice and a clarion call of recognition, a bell clang that resonates still and that will never be unrung. There were other great Dylan songs that belong to the anti-war cannon, but having written “Masters of War”, what more needed, what more could be said. Masters of War, Part II, still standing over the grave to make sure they’re still dead?