Oh you poor devil / look up if you will / the city of God is there on the hill 
Bob Dylan, False Prophet

Rhythm and harmony permeate the innermost elements of the soul, affect it more powerfully than anything else.
Plato

The Master said, ‘Find inspiration in the Odes, take your place through ritual, and achieve perfection through music.’
Confucius, Analects 8.8

Last weekend I had the honor of seeing Bob Dylan’s three-night run in Chicago for the Fall 2023 iteration of the “Rough and Rowdy Ways tour.” I am a self-described “Dylanhead” in that I try to attend as many shows as possible. I’ve been referring to attending Dylan shows as “going to church” partly because it feels more like a duty than a free choice, but more importantly, because of its essentially ritualistic nature. I used to treat Dylan’s concerts as a history lesson, but now I see them as something closer to liturgy. I don’t go merely for the pleasure of hearing “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” just like someone doesn’t go to church merely to sing along to “Go Tell it on the Mountain” and drink a little bit of wine. Churches, or religious ceremonies more generally, play an important social function— one that is not easily replaced in a secular culture. Attending a public ceremony offers us the opportunity to participate in ritual practices and form community bonds, important goods for humans independent of any promises of eternal salvation. 

I think Dylan’s concerts - static set list and all - serve a similar social function as religious ceremonies: it is a secular ritual and the audience is a congregation. Rituals bring us into harmony with other people, they also offer contexts where we can coordinate with others independent of our social and political values. Rituals can be what political philosopher Robert Talisse calls “apolitical spaces.” In today’s polarized digital age, we need spaces where we can come together independent of our political values… we need more (secular) rituals.

Dylan’s static setlist is the perfect context for ritualistic practice: just like certain hymns feature either in the beginning or end of a ceremony, so too, do songs like “Most Likely You’ll Go Your Way” and “I’ve Made Up My Mind (to Give Myself to You).” Further, this idea connects back to Ancient Greek and Chinese thinkers, who believed that music (and its associated social practices) played an important role in shaping moral character. 

It’s clear that Dylan’s album “Rough and Rowdy Ways” is heavily influenced by ancient Greek culture, not only in its homages, appropriations, and allusions, but also, in its ethos. Ancient thinkers believed that music was valuable because of its ability to influence moral character and promote social cohesion. It is rather trivial that music can affect our emotional responses: think of how the music in a horror movie can heighten our fear, or the ability of a song to make us feel sad. However, ancient Greek philosophers such as Plato and Aristotle as well as ancient Chinese philosophers such as Mozi and Confucius not only held that music had the capacity to influence our behavior, but believed that good music had a positive influence on moral character. Ancient Greek and Chinese thinkers did not draw a strong distinction between music (or art) and its social context: rituals, funerals, and more generally the experience of acting in harmony with others.

Music (as a social practice) is both a social and ethical good. Humans have a natural tendency to move along to the music, it’s an automatic causal process. Public musical performances such as concerts not only influence our mood, they also encourage us to act together in harmony. It’s better, all things considered, for us and for a society to have ritualistic social practices such as concerts because they offer us a context to come together and act in harmony. So, for the ancients, music is naturally pleasurable and socially valuable as well.

In one sense the content of Dylan’s songs in the “Rough and Rowdy Ways” tour is morally instructive: many songs contain lyrics with profound moral lessons. “Mother of Muses” emphasizes humility in the face of world history, that the artist is merely a conduit for the Muse (another Ancient Greek notion), and how world-historical spirits such as Martin Luther King Jr “struggled with pain so the world could go free.” “Black Rider” warns against the perils of self-doubt, that we are often our own worst enemy. “Serve Somebody” tells us that everyone, including ambassadors and socialites, must worship something, though we may come to discover that we are mistaken about the worthiness of our target (it may be the devil, after all), while “Crossing the Rubicon” reminds us of the courage it takes to follow through on our commitment, regardless of age, ability, or fear. And of course, “Key West” and its meditation on the complex nature of happiness.

But, the “Rough and Rowdy Ways” tour is also morally instructive in its form: it is a ritual. In fact, the static setlist highlights its ritualistic nature, which allows us to appreciate songs not only for their lyrics or arrangement, but also their position in the set. There are songs where it is appropriate to dance, to leave for a bathroom break, or to sit in contemplation. Consider as well the  meaning that arises from the juxtaposition of certain songs, such as the fact that “Make My Own Version of You,” arguably the most sinister song in the set, is followed by its most playful: “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight.” The concert is an opportunity to worship, not Dylan the person, but as a collective ritual. Coming together with other people to enjoy these songs is a tool for participating in a collective experience, which enables its participants to be more harmonious with each other: moving in coordination or cohesion with others (even if this is merely swaying back and forth). It is good for us to want to imitate the orderliness we experience with music.

So, songs like “Mother of Muses” are a prayer in both form and content: you ought to sit there and contemplate the words alongside everyone else. In my opinion, “Key West” functions as “the Lord’s Prayer” which teaches us how to pray in the first place. In other words, “Rough and Rowdy Ways” has the potential to not only influence our moral character, but to make us better people. According to this “ancient idea” it is good for us to respect rituals and social norms (but not to dogmatically submit to them either, of course). This makes us better people, better citizens. This is also the standard by which we ought to evaluate music: on its ability to positively influence moral character. As such, the Rough and Rowdy Ways tour is exactly what Ancient Greek and Chinese thinkers would evaluate as good music.

So, to say that the Rough and Rowdy Ways tour is “church” is to emphasize its communal, moral, and aesthetic dimensions, harkening back to Ancient Greek and Chinese thought where music is a social tool for moral instruction, not merely a form of psychological entertainment or release (though it could be that, too, after all it contains multitudes… :)). Needless to say, I will continue to perform my duty as a Dylanhead and attend as many shows as possible. I will also cherish the opportunity to participate in a socially-valuable ritual alongside others, irregardless of our political identities. I can only hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn to be more harmonious and orderly in my non-Rough and Rowdy Ways life as well. 

I’ll see you at church, don’t you dare miss it! 

ncG1vNJzZmirlZi8r7DHmqWdrJikwqi006xlrK2SqMGir8pnmqilX6V8o7vBZpuypJGjeqq6jJyfopuRnLxufo9rag%3D%3D