Reading a couple inept reviews of Three Songs, Three Singers, Three Nations, it never ceases to amaze me how certain bad ideas refuse to go away. Such as the notion that an artwork has a specific single meaning, usually the one intended by the artist. Bob Dylan, for one, would be the first to admit that a song has different meaning for him every time he performs it. I know, certain artists are also hung up on the what-I-meant obsession. All that indicates is they don’t understand the nature of artworks — that they go out to the world and interact with it once they are created.
Also, I had no idea there were so many obviously horrid versions of “I Wish I Was a Mole in the Ground.”