Very moving sequence of Garth Hudson making his way through chords. Apart from that, I have a very serious problem with Dylanology. The usual path: log-in, connect, read and save to reread offline, is impossible. All the posts I saved are not the full version of what I read. Is there a way to skip Substack, who seems to be the responsible fot this frustrating situation?
I, too, have a very serious problem with Dylanology.
I find myself thinking, whenever I read any of your work on Substack, “does this guy even like Bob Dylan?”
Because if you don’t like Bob Dylan, then I don’t know why you bother to write about him.
I signed up because I thought you were the guy behind Dylan Chords, which was an eye-opener for me and gave me so much pleasure: I can’t thank the person enough who did all that work transcribing all the songs and all the various versions.
But the writing on this Substack sounds like that of a person who is ambivalent about the subject he’s writing about and isn’t really a staunch admirer of the artist’s work and methods.
If you don’t know whether you like Bob Dylan, or dislike him, or have various mixed feelings about him because of whatever reason, over exposure, you’ve delved too deep, you’ve spent too much time, it’s become an obsession, maybe jealousy and resentment have finally reared their ugly heads, I don’t know, but perhaps it’s time to stop writing about Dylan if it is no longer a labor of love.
I get it: Picasso was an asshole, treated women badly, and Hank Williams drank too much and treated women badly, but I don’t care what they did outside of their vocation of creating art, I’m just admiring of the art they created for the world.
I don’t need an academic treatise to enjoy looking at Picasso‘s horny, ink drawings, and I don’t need an academic dissertation when I listen to “Clothesline Saga” or “If Dogs Run Free” by Bob Dylan.
But you know that.
I can’t read too much written about Bob Dylan any more for it brings me down whereas listening to his music can be transformative, enlightening, and takes me out from my staid, normal consciousness. And when I perform one of his songs and fully inhabit it, I am completely transported out of this time and space.
Bob may not long for this world of touring as he’s getting up there a bit in years, but it seems like an entire industry of writers has grown up lately trying to cash in a few bucks by writing about Bob Dylan.
I remember reading about a guy, AJ Weberman, going through Dylan‘s garbage, and I thought that was so pathetic. Most everyone thought the same way on that. But he was merely a harbinger of things to come: people who try to make a living off of an artist’s back.
Are you doing any better than that? Or would you consider setting down the pen for a while or taking an entirely different approach to writing about Bob Dylan?
I’m so sorry that your pieces, for me, never leave me feeling uplifted or transformed or enlightened, and I don’t enjoy reading your writing about Bob Dylan.
I’d like to think Bob’s attitude on this is from an old, old song,
“I’m a rambler and a gambler and my money’s my own, and if you don’t like me you can leave me alone.”
Love that song.
It’s the kind of writing that brings me joy and pleasure.
Very moving sequence of Garth Hudson making his way through chords. Apart from that, I have a very serious problem with Dylanology. The usual path: log-in, connect, read and save to reread offline, is impossible. All the posts I saved are not the full version of what I read. Is there a way to skip Substack, who seems to be the responsible fot this frustrating situation?
I, too, have a very serious problem with Dylanology.
I find myself thinking, whenever I read any of your work on Substack, “does this guy even like Bob Dylan?”
Because if you don’t like Bob Dylan, then I don’t know why you bother to write about him.
I signed up because I thought you were the guy behind Dylan Chords, which was an eye-opener for me and gave me so much pleasure: I can’t thank the person enough who did all that work transcribing all the songs and all the various versions.
But the writing on this Substack sounds like that of a person who is ambivalent about the subject he’s writing about and isn’t really a staunch admirer of the artist’s work and methods.
If you don’t know whether you like Bob Dylan, or dislike him, or have various mixed feelings about him because of whatever reason, over exposure, you’ve delved too deep, you’ve spent too much time, it’s become an obsession, maybe jealousy and resentment have finally reared their ugly heads, I don’t know, but perhaps it’s time to stop writing about Dylan if it is no longer a labor of love.
I get it: Picasso was an asshole, treated women badly, and Hank Williams drank too much and treated women badly, but I don’t care what they did outside of their vocation of creating art, I’m just admiring of the art they created for the world.
I don’t need an academic treatise to enjoy looking at Picasso‘s horny, ink drawings, and I don’t need an academic dissertation when I listen to “Clothesline Saga” or “If Dogs Run Free” by Bob Dylan.
But you know that.
I can’t read too much written about Bob Dylan any more for it brings me down whereas listening to his music can be transformative, enlightening, and takes me out from my staid, normal consciousness. And when I perform one of his songs and fully inhabit it, I am completely transported out of this time and space.
Bob may not long for this world of touring as he’s getting up there a bit in years, but it seems like an entire industry of writers has grown up lately trying to cash in a few bucks by writing about Bob Dylan.
I remember reading about a guy, AJ Weberman, going through Dylan‘s garbage, and I thought that was so pathetic. Most everyone thought the same way on that. But he was merely a harbinger of things to come: people who try to make a living off of an artist’s back.
Are you doing any better than that? Or would you consider setting down the pen for a while or taking an entirely different approach to writing about Bob Dylan?
I’m so sorry that your pieces, for me, never leave me feeling uplifted or transformed or enlightened, and I don’t enjoy reading your writing about Bob Dylan.
I’d like to think Bob’s attitude on this is from an old, old song,
“I’m a rambler and a gambler and my money’s my own, and if you don’t like me you can leave me alone.”
Love that song.
It’s the kind of writing that brings me joy and pleasure.