Det er lige før jul i London, 1974. Den travleste mand i engelsk rocknroll-showbiz lige da er muligvis Roxy Music-frontfiguren Bryan Ferry, der siden bandets debut i sommeren 1972 har udsendt hele fire studiealbums med Roxy. Som om det ikke er mere end rigeligt, har han også fundet tid til at indspille og lancere to soloalbums i samme periode, glimrende plader, der med en enkelt Ferry-sangs undtagelse består af covers fra populærmusikkens sangskat. Årets sidste store opgave for travle Ferry er tre solokoncerter – Newcastle > Birmingham > London – med stort band, der 19. december konkluderer med en aften i selveste Royal Albert Hall. Denne sidste koncert af de tre fik en forsinket men velkommen pladeudgivelse for fem år siden. Liveplader lever sjældent op til det de gerne skal, nemlig at bringe lytteren den vitale nærhedsfølelse af næsten at være tilstede, men det formår den optagelse fra Royal Albert Hall med en storsyngende Ferry og hans sublimt spillende band, hvor ikke mindst den hårdtslående Roxy-trommeslager Paul Thompson lægges positivt mærke til. Her er det Bob Dylan, der fortolkes på aftenen. Den heftige sangtekst er virkelig noget udover det sædvanlige og kan ses under kommentarer.
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A HARD RAIN’S A-GONNA FALL
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Where have you been, my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
Walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
Stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
Been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
It’s a hard (hard), and it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard (hard), and it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
What did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves around it
Saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
Saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
Saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’
A white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it’s a hard (hard), and it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
What did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin’
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’
Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’
Heard one person starve, heard many people laughin’
Song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it’s a hard (hard), and it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard (hard), hard, hard (hard)
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
What’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ‘fore the rain starts a-fallin’
Walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color and none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand in the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’
And it’s a hard (hard), it’s a hard (hard), and it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
And it’s a hard (hard), and it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard (hard)
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall
(Tekst af/©: Bob Dylan)