Tag: Bob Dylan

Read books, repeat quotations.

“A few years earlier Ronnie Gilbert, one of The Weavers, had introduced me at one of the Newport Folk Festivals saying, ‘And here he is…take him, you know him, he’s yours.’ I had failed to sense the ominous forebodings in the introduction. Elvis had never even been introduced like that. ‘Take him, he’s yours!’ What a crazy thing to say! Screw that. As far as I knew, I didn’t belong to anybody then or now.” On the eve of Chronicles, his long-awaited first volume of memoirs, the freewheelin’ Bob Dylan sits down with Newsweek and offers up a choice excerpt on the price of fame (which reveals why Self-Portrait is pretty lousy.) It sounds like he’s elided over some of his more interesting periods for now (Blood on the Tracks, the Christian years), but this should still be quite a fascinating read.

Crying like a fire in the sun.

R.E.M. talk Around the Sun and, in discussing their dwindling popularity Stateside, pay credit to Bob Dylan. Notes Peter Buck, “In 1975, people thought he was going to be president. Now he plays 3,000 seat theatres. His last two records are the best things he’s done in years. So I won’t calculate who our audience is. I’ll take whoever I can get at whatever level I can get them.'”

All Over You.

“You are able to take an idea and give it form: the idea that Harlem has hands, feet are flaming, lips are cracked and country, hail hammers and skies crack poems.” In a burst of NY Times Dylanania, Jonathan Lethem reviews Dylan’s Vision of Sin, the new tome of poetry criticism by acclaimed Oxford Professor Christopher Ricks, while Lucinda Williams pays her own respects to Robert Zimmerman. And, elsewhere in the music-themed Book Review this week, Time politico and Primary Colors author Joe Klein proclaims his fondness for Wilco.

Gotta Travel On.

“The creepiest on-screen clone army of 2003 wasn’t The Matrix’s league of Agent Smiths at all, but Masked and Anonymous‘s cast of Bob Dylans. He was everybody, everywhere. Or, rather, everybody was him.” Via my friend Mark, an intriguing take on Bob Dylan’s recent run, including M&A, Live 1964, and the new book on Blood on the Tracks. (No Victoria’s Secret, however.) Also in Dylan news, by way of Absolute Piffle, Bob’s apparently also gotten into the wine business. Lingerie, wine…are Dylan-brand scented candles next?

Bras of Spanish Leather.

Well, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box linens… Good friend Seth Stevenson holds forth on the Dylan Victoria’s Secret ad. I found this particular tidbit quite interesting: “Asked in 1965 what might tempt him to sell out, Dylan replied: ‘Ladies undergarments’.” Hmmm…Well, now that Bobby D has fallen for Victoria, will Ray Davies be next?

Gotta Serve Somebody.

“As I went out one morning to breathe the air around Tom Paine’s,
I spied the fairest damsel that ever did walk in a new unlined demi with lace…” The times they are a-changin’, ’cause apparently Bob Dylan is now hawking Victoria’s Secret. Ah well, as the guy notes in this article, I’d rather have Dylan selling lingerie than the new BMW or something. In fact, this may even be a step up for the big fella after Masked and Anonymous.

Cash is King.

Bobby Dylan remembers Johnny Cash: “If we want to know what it means to be mortal, we need look no further than the Man in Black. Blessed with a profound imagination, he used the gift to express all the various lost causes of the human soul. This is a miraculous and humbling thing. Listen to him, and he always brings you to your senses. He rises high above all, and he’ll never die or be forgotten, even by persons not born yet — especially those persons — and that is forever.“