Unplugged Heroes: The Untold Tale of Dylan, Baez, and Seeger’s Musical Revolution

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In the style of Elijah Wald’s detailed timeline “Dylan Goes Electric!“, James Mangold’s film “A Complete Unknown” presents a unique, engaging biography of Bob Dylan (played by Timothée Chalamet). Rather than focusing on reverence, it traces the transformation of Dylan from unplugged folk to rock-infused performances. The movie prioritizes music and imitation, aiming to showcase Chalamet’s performance of Dylan’s songs with a precision reminiscent of the original recordings beyond the lip-syncing abilities seen in Larry Parks in “The Jolson Story” (1946) or Rami Malek in “Bohemian Rhapsody” (2018).

Although the imitations are spot-on, they often overshadow the political significance behind Dylan’s amplified performance at the Newport Folk Festival on July 25, 1965. This action wasn’t about electricity, but rather independence – Dylan seeking to break free from the limiting rhythms and topics of the agit-prop folk genre. Listened to now, “It Ain’t Me Babe” carries a double meaning: it not only serves as a dismissal of a lover, but also sends a message to his political followers that they should search elsewhere for their leader.

Dylan’s goodbye to the folk club stands out in contrast to the empathy shared by two emerging artists who were part of his sphere: Pete Seeger (portrayed by Edward Norton) and Joan Baez (portrayed by Monica Barbaro). Unlike Dylan, who is unique and almost mythical, a symbol of cultural impact that emerges only once in a century, Seeger and Baez are more grounded talents, undeniably skilled but ones who remained within the confines of folk music and political activism. Seeger’s growth was rooted in the 1930s, while Baez found her footing in the 1960s, and both, like Dylan, faced a crucial moment that solidified their convictions.

In 1961, Dylan strode into Greenwich Village where Baez was a well-known folk music sensation, her heavenly soprano softening the harshness of the most aggressive social commentary lyrics (as portrayed by Chalamet, Bob’s voice is “too pretty,” he growls). Meanwhile, Seeger was more than just an elder statesman in folk music; he was a direct connection to the older generation of Depression-era singers who used their guitar, banjo, or fiddle as tools for political activism. In the movie, Seeger is presented as a modern-day saint – calm and jovial, the musician as a champion for social justice. Unlike Woody Guthrie’s lethal guitar, Seeger’s banjo didn’t destroy fascists; instead, it called on them to disarm and join in song.

Hailing from 1919, Seeger was greatly influenced by the economic hardship of the Great Depression, leading him to align with the farthest left factions of the Popular Front – a group of individuals who opposed fascism both domestically and abroad. As a young man, he became a member of the Young Communist League and eventually progressed to the Communist Party USA (there may be differences in the specific timing). In early 1941, Seeger united with three other like-minded musicians to establish the Almanac Singers, whose philosophy dictated their song selection. They believed that the best music and poetry originated from the people themselves. Additionally, they received songs directly from Moscow, adjusting their repertoire based on the party’s current ideology: initially antiwar and isolationist (until June 1941 during the Hitler-Stalin Pact period) and then strongly interventionist and pro-Soviet (after June 1941 following the Nazi invasion of Russia).

1948 saw the formation of the Weavers, a musical group comprising Seeger, Lee Hays, Ronnie Gilbert, and Fred Hellerman. Their purpose was to continue propagating their message through song. According to his own recollection, Seeger stepped down from official Communist Party membership in 1949; however, he remained a firm supporter, aligning himself with the party’s ideology both verbally and musically. The Weavers achieved unexpected success in 1950, reaching the top of music charts with “Goodnight, Irene,” a seemingly apolitical love ballad. They followed this up with hits such as “On Top of Old Smokey” and “Kisses Sweeter than Wine.

During the tense political climate of the Cold War, the Weavers’ anti-communist stance prevented them from making further inroads into mainstream popular music. In 1950, their lead singer Seeger was named in the guidebook “Red Channels: The Report on Communist Influence in Radio and Television“, a blacklisting resource. Two years later, during testimony before the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC), Seeger was accused of being a member of the Communist Party. As a result, the Weavers were dropped from an appearance on NBC’s Today Show with Dave Garroway. Their performances diminished and Decca Records terminated their contract.

On August 18, 1955, Seeger was served a subpoena to appear before the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC). He chose to bring his banjo and a strong-willed attitude. When questioned about the supposedly subversive lyrics of the anti-fascist anthem “Wasn’t That a Time,” (“Our fathers bled at Valley Forge/The snow was red with blood”), Seeger suggested performing the song in the hearing room, but HUAC chairman Francis E. Walter (D-PA) wisely declined. Throughout his testimony, Seeger courageously refused to assert his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination. Instead, he calmly and straightforwardly withheld his cooperation. “I reject the notion that because my views might differ from yours, I am any less of an American than you,” he stated. But wasn’t he a performer at events sponsored by communists? Seeger responded cooly, “I have sung and strummed my banjo for Americans of all kinds – from hobos to the Rockefellers.

Eventually, Seeger faced charges of disrespecting Congress and was pursued by the Department of Justice. In 1957, a federal grand jury indicted him on ten counts of contempt, and after several years of legal battles, he was convicted and sentenced to a year in prison in 1961. However, in 1962, a Court of Appeals overturned the conviction, prompting the DOJ, under Attorney General Robert Kennedy, to drop the case. The early scene in “A Complete Unknown” illustrates the transition from the McCarthy era’s red-baiting atmosphere to the openness of JFK’s New Frontier. As a crowd outside a federal courthouse in New York cheers Seeger and sings “This Land Is Your Land,” a lone, disheartened anti-communist protester stands by, his “Better Dead than Red” sign beside him.

Although Seeger won legal victories in court, he didn’t gain access to the country’s broadcasting systems. In 1963, ABC attempted to capitalize on the folk music craze with Hootenanny, a platform showcasing popular tunes of the time, but overlooked that many well-respected folk musicians were blacklisted. When Hootenanny declined to book Seeger, Joan Baez followed suit and refused to appear on the program. Other mainstream folk acts like the Kingston Trio (who achieved success with Seeger’s “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” in 1961) and Peter, Paul and Mary (who scored a hit with Seeger and Lee Hays’ “If I Had a Hammer” in 1962) also shunned the show, turning down lucrative offers to perform for $25,000. Seeger was invited back for Hootenanny’s second season, but he declined to sign the required loyalty oath. It wasn’t until 1967, when the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour defied the ban (the comedy duo persisted and a hesitant CBS eventually agreed), that Seeger returned to network television. In the movie, Seeger is depicted hosting a non-network TV show, as he did for National Education Television in 1965 before his breakthrough on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. The show was called A Roomful of Music and some local NET affiliates refused to air it.

Unlike Seeger, Baez didn’t carry the weight of past relationships with American communism from the 1930s. Born in 1941, much like Dylan, Baez wasn’t a baby boomer. Raised as a Quaker, she was instilled with a sense of social responsibility which stayed with her throughout her life. From high school onwards, she utilized her voice for anti-war movements and civil rights activism. At the tender age of twenty-one in 1962, Baez graced the cover of Time magazine. The magazine’s profile of her was filled with admiration, describing her voice as “clear as autumn air, a powerful, raw, and untutored soprano.” They also noted that she didn’t wear makeup and her long black hair fell like a curtain around her elongated almond face.

As Baez’s political dedication grew stronger, it became clear to many that she was more than just a beautiful singer and performer. In 1965, Variety referred to her as “as passionate a pacifist femme as has ever emerged from the folk scene.” During the 1960s, Baez may have played at more rallies than concerts, but for most of her appearances, it made little difference whether it was a rally or a concert. In 1969, at the Woodstock Festival, she delivered a powerful rendition of the labor elegy “I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night” that was as electrifying as anything Jimi Hendrix performed.

Joan Baez’s anti-war activism intensified alongside the rising death toll in Vietnam, frequently joining draft resister (not dodger) David Harris, whom she later married in 1968. Although no formal blacklist was in place at that time, she faced persistent criticism from right-wing groups who labeled her as ungrateful traitor and a pawn of Hanoi. Cartoonist Al Capp utilized his popular comic strip, Li’l Abner, to lampoon Baez as a communist dupe, portraying her as a fake folk singer named “Joanie Phoanie,” who produced songs like “Let’s Congo with the Viet Cong” and “On a Hammer and Sickle Built for Two.” Baez took these insults in stride. “I’ve been called a commie-pinko since I was sixteen,” she said. The complete account of her personal and political voyage is presented in the documentary Joan Baez: I Am a Noise (2023), directed by Miri Navasky, Maeve O’Boyle, and Karen O’Connor. For Baez, the intersection of “music and politics” shaped her life.

The documentary strangely fails to include one of Baez’s finest performances and one of Seeger’s most regrettable ones. Despite not being as iconic as Dylan’s rebellious act at Newport, this occurrence underscores a substantial generational and philosophical rift between the two folk musicians.

Starting from 1975, following the North Vietnamese victory in the Vietnam War, communist rule took a familiar course: strict control over society and suppression of dissenters. By the end of the 1970s, a massive exodus of refugees, numbering in the hundreds of thousands, were forced to escape the country by sea and land, seeking refuge in Hong Kong and Thailand. As the humanitarian situation deteriorated, advocates from the anti-war faction of the American left largely remained quiet.

In a remarkable departure from the norm, Baez took on an exceptional role as president of the Humanitas/ International Human Rights Committee. On May 31, 1979, she published an “Open Letter to the Socialist Republic of Vietnam” in five prominent newspapers. This letter was penned to remind the Vietnamese leadership of a commitment shared by many Americans during their opposition to the Vietnam war – a dedication to human dignity, freedom, and self-determination. Now, this same commitment drove her to speak out against what she perceived as the ruthless disregard for human rights in Vietnam. A total of 350 prominent antiwar activists were approached to sign this letter. However, only 84 individuals, including poet Allen Ginsberg, entertainer Lily Tomlin, and Peter Yarrow from Peter, Paul and Mary, agreed to lend their names to the cause.

Yarrow’s associates, Mary Travis and Paul Stookey, did not put their signatures on the letter, giving an impression of the internal strife that Baez’s letter sparked within a group that was previously united. Notably absent were Jane Fonda and her husband Tom Hayden. The outspoken attorney William Kunstler, known for defending the Chicago 7 in the 1970 conspiracy case, represented the hard-line, pro-communist left. He criticized Baez as a CIA operative, stating, “I don’t support attacks on socialist countries, even where human rights abuses are reported.” Additionally, notable absences included Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan. It is unclear if Baez sought Dylan’s signature. Dylan had moved away from such activities and kept it as a secondary concern.

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Yarrow’s partners, Mary Travis and Paul Stookey, did not sign the letter, suggesting the internal discord that Baez’s letter ignited within their previously united front. The absence of Jane Fonda and her husband Tom Hayden was also noticeable. William Kunstler, a prominent left-wing lawyer who defended the Chicago 7 in 1970, stood for the hard-line, pro-communist left. He accused Baez of being a CIA agent and claimed he did not support attacks on socialist countries, even when human rights abuses were reported. Additionally, Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan, two notable figures, did not sign the letter. It remains uncertain if Baez asked for Dylan’s signature, as his involvement in such matters had become less significant to him.

Later in the same year, Baez toured refugee camps situated in northern Thailand with the intention of highlighting the hardships faced by another group of refugees fleeing communism, which she described as “one of the most catastrophic situations historically, anywhere, where people were on the brink of starvation” – essentially referring to the Cambodian genocide. At a press conference in Paris, she expressed her viewpoint saying, “Indeed, it can be classified as genocide, but even if it wasn’t officially recognized as such, its impact is so immense that we must take action.

Once more, Seeger was absent from active duty. Instead, his banjo and voice were dedicated to the fight for environmentalism and against nuclear energy. From the deck of the Clearwater, a boat he constructed in 1969, he led an exceptional cleanup effort on the Hudson River – one of many enduring contributions he made.

Pete Seeger passed away in 2014, but he witnessed the country that once persecuted and silenced him being reconciled through an outpouring of honors and recognition. In 1994, he was bestowed with a National Medal of Arts and honored as a Kennedy Center laureate, where he was celebrated with a heartfelt symphony concert tribute. As President Bill Clinton stated, “Some artists create musical legacies; Pete Seeger made history with his music.” During the ceremony at the Kennedy Center, Roger McGuinn led the audience in a lively rendition of one of Seeger’s most iconic songs, “Turn! Turn! Turn!” – which, strummed by McGuinn’s electric twelve string in 1965, became a massive hit for The Byrds.

The twilight tributes encompassed “Pete Seeger: The Power of Song” (2007), an enthralling biography produced by Jim Brown for PBS’s American Masters series. Similar to other tributes, this documentary shied away from the more contentious periods in Seeger’s career, such as when he swiftly altered his stance like a telegram from Moscow and refrained from condemning atrocities in the Soviet Union, Vietnam, and Cambodia.

2007 saw Pete Seeger penning a song titled “The Big Joe Blues,” which critically targeted Joseph Stalin, due to a perceived need for personal amends. The lyrics included lines such as “He ruled with an iron fist/He crushed the dreams of many across lands.” Although the impact might have been stronger had Stalin not passed away in 1953, the late expression demonstrated that Seeger recognized his greatest oversight as a folk artist was failing to silence Bob Dylan’s amplifier during Newport.

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2025-02-20 02:25