Book Excerpt: Counting Down Bob Dylan: His 100 Finest Songs

92. “All Along the Watchtower” (from John Wesley Harding, 1967)

One of the great unanswered questions in the Bob Dylan story is just what would have become of “All Along the Watchtower” had Jimi Hendrix not turned the song into the classic rock standard it is today. Would it be anywhere near as well-known as it is now? Would all of his followers still be wading through the allegorical stew of the lyrics trying to figure out what is going on and why? Or would it be just another album cut for Dylan obsessives to ponder and the rest of the world to ignore?

This list was compiled based on the original renderings of the song or, in some cases, the Dylan versions that have become definitive. So it’s the version of “All Along the Watchtower” on John Wesley Harding that must be considered here.

It’s fair to say that the song is more propulsive than the other songson that album, which is a little bit like saying a turtle is more propulsive than a sloth. Those songs were muted by design, so for one to break out of the pack, it needed to be something special melodically or lyrically.

Melodically, the song is OK, although it’s safe to say that very few people go around humming “All Along the Watchtower.” Lyrically, its main calling card is its beguiling impenetrability. Basically, you’ve got a discussion between the joker and the thief, followed by the last verse’s threatening vision of an impending battle, capped by the thrilling final line: “Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.”

That’s all that happens, really, and yet there is the sense that everything is at stake. Dylan creates a stifling air of portent and tension with his three succinct verses. That tension can be found in the agitation of the joker, who seems anything but humorous in his interactions with the thief. The series of indignities that he’s forced to suffer has him on the edge, ready to strike.

The thief, on the other hand, is cool and collected, suggesting with a measured practicality to the joker that they stop dallying and get down to business. Although their motivations and demeanors contrast in just about every way, both characters are somewhat reminiscent of the outlaw ready to flip the tables and have at his enemies in “Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)” from Street Legal.

 Whatever may be brewing in the hearts and minds of these two cats, it’s clear that their resolve sets the events in motion that will bring about the final verse. Or is it? It’s impossible to even be sure that the two riders approaching the watchtower are the same joker and thief from the first two verses.

Dylan flagrantly toys with narrative expectations, skipping over the important stuff and fudging with the time frame. All that can be ascertained for sure is that nothing will be the same once they arrive, the reactions of the wildcat and the wind heralding the oncoming hurt.

There may be some people who would argue that Dylan’s version is better than Hendrix’s because of its subtlety; it insinuates slyly while Hendrix pounds the ominous atmosphere into our brains with his furious riffs. This contrarian view doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny, however; there’s a reason why Bob performs Jimi’s arrangement of it in concert.

Speaking of performances, “All Along the Watchtower” has been performed by Bob more than any other song. Again, it’s hard to picture that happening had not Hendrix put such a definitive stamp on it. Bob left a hole in the center of the song that kept it at arm’s length; Jimi came in with his searing squalls of guitar notes and unruly vocals and gave the song a raging id that seems to embody the oncoming apocalypse that Bob and his biblical allusions skirt around.

Dylan’s original version is perfect in this spot. It’s not an epic, but it is far deeper than what most songwriters can hope to accomplish. Bob once said a thunderstorm inspired the song’s creation, and, all other interpretations aside, that might be the best way to think about his version: As a mysterious, sudden storm that disappears almost as quickly as it arrives. Hendrix’s version is more like a tornado inside a hurricane in the middle of a meteor shower.

Reasonable minds may disagree about which is better, but it’s impossible to deny that Jimi Hendrix deserves a great deal of the credit when we consider the durability and reputation of “All Along the Watchtower.”