Where Sinatra’s version was reliant on orchestral backing, Dylan’s version emphasizes gentle electric guitar and steel guitars that hover between country and Hawaiian music. His voice almost entirely avoids the gruffness typical of his singing in recent years.Listen here. And listen to Frank's version here.
BONUS: Erroll Garner's vocals-free version.
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I like it.
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Nice arrangement but his voice just lacks romantic tone. It's like finding yourself on a blind date at a great little French bistro with a guy that you aren't the least bit attracted to.
Regarding Dylan, Randy Jackson would have critiqued, "pitchy".
Awful.
Why? Dylan brings no novel interpretation or phrasing to the piece, which is not a very good song. If I wanted to hear it sung with that kind of voice, I'd prefer Leonard Cohen (on the rough end of the range) or Mark Knopfler (on the smooth end).
I agree - it wasn't gruff, but it was tuneless.
Another 50 year milestone?Somebody is remembering his Joan Baez love like it is still 1964.
Is this song Bob's reply to Joan's Diamonds and Rust song?
She wrote about loving Bob:
"Well I'll be damned. Here comes your ghost again.
But that's not unusual.It's just that the moon is full and you happened to call.
...
I never liked Sinatra. (He was before my generation, so liking him was never cool.) But, boy, the man could sing! It's unfair to compare Dylan's version with Sinatra's. Dylan doesn't have the pipes to compete with Sinatra as a singer.
I felt the same way when everyone was recording their own version of Memory (from Cats). After Streisand released her recording, the others should have stopped. Manilow's version suffered in comparison. I liked Barry and didn't care for Barbara. But, again, the women could sing!
Feh. Sounds like every dreadful stoner version of what was once a decent piece of music. I guess if you're Bob Dylan no one on your entourage of flappers will venture to point out your manifest limitations, but this is just, well, Grim.
I never liked Sinatra for faking disabilities in WWII so he didn't have to serve then making a bunch of war movies as if that made up for it. Also he always held his microphone with his fingertips for fear he would look like he was fellating the mike. He was not a credit to Italians.
There used to be a little cafe on Ventura Boulevard. There was a stage along the back wall, and at night the owner would get up and sing and play the piano. He also sold tapes of his performance at the cash register. He was a pretty bad singer, flat and off-key, and his piano playing was rudimentary, but he was head and shoulders better than the ragged listless groan Dylan delivers in this performance. He stinks.
I like Sinatra, but I like Dylan's take on this one. It's very human and vulnerable, which is a better fit for the song than Sinatra's talent, which sometimes seemed almost superhuman. The world is big enough for both versions.
This song reminds me a bit of the song Trains, Boats and Plains for some reason.
Both songs sung with the ache of the times, the conclusion of world war 2 which was the beginning of a period of hope and renewal, of the separated united, of dreams. And now the end of dream times, the lament, the tired old voice. Both moving renditions if you close your eyes and see the world at that time, this time. Haunting contrast.
As much as I love Dylan - and Sinatra - I find this song to be sad in a not very good way. Dylan's voice is so shot and wispy. Reminds me of how Johnny Cash sounded on his last recordings. Listening to Bob's voice break as he tried to reach those emotional high notes was painful, but at least he was trying. Sigh. I so want to like it, but this is a song that requires a Nashville Skyline era voice to work its way through the song.
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