As mentioned at the end of last year, I've finally reached the age where I'm starting to appreciate Mr. Zimmerman more. Lately I've been listening to Blood On The Tracks a lot, and yeah, I know it's the cliched choice, the Dylan album that all the critics love, but I'm still enjoying the hell out of it. A lot more than I enjoyed Blonde On Blonde when I bought a copy in my mid-20s and forced myself to listen to it for a week to try and see what the fuss was about.
I've even managed to get Sam into Tangled Up In Blue. Again, the obvious choice from the album, but it was the moment I realised Dylan had a sense of humour... and he knew how to use it subtly too... that really turned the corner for me.
She was working in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer
I just kept looking at the sight of her face
In the spotlight so clear
And later on when the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said, "Tell me, don't I know your name?"
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the lines on my face
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe
What I didn't expect in the middle of all this was to also find myself suddenly drawn to Bob's son too.
Jakub Dylan's band The Wallflowers recently got back together and released their first album in almost a decade, and it's pretty damned good. It must be tough being Bob Dylan's son and trying to make people listen to your music without them constantly comparing you to your dad, but The Wallflowers are a very different proposition... although there's some nice subtle humour in the lyrics here too.
Strange to see you this side of town
It's not your people or your kind of crowd
Just nobodies here, we're drinking flat beer
Away from the battleground
There's no sleigh bells in winter time
There's no top shelf or a decent wine
There's another slow jam, same awful band
It's the last stop, the end of the line
You're on the list or I'm easy to find
In the dive bar in my heart
