When Bob Dylan was awarded the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature some people were surprised. Some were offended. Leonard Cohen wasn’t one of them. When asked about it his answer was:

“To me [the award] is like pinning a medal on Mount Everest for being the highest mountain.”

Word, Leonard!

I’m pretty sure most people who were shocked or surprised by the Nobel Prize would be hard pressed to name 20 Dylan songs off the top of their heads. Many would struggle to get 10. The thing is the man’s released around 40 studio albums and is estimated to have written over 600 songs. So if you’re not familiar with at least a few hundred of them I’m not sure you’re opinion carries much weight. And just in case you’re unaware, he’s written hundreds of songs better than Blowin’ in the Wind.

OK, mild rave over.

I’ve been a huge Dylan nut since the early 70s. And I love his voice (so many different voices in fact) just as much as his words. I think they are both equally important. For me, his voice heightens the impact of his words. Probably why I find most Dylan covers pale and soulless compared to the originals.

I have many Dylan-related memories sprinkled throughout my life.

For example:

# In the 70s I remember eagerly catching up on the back log of Dylan albums and songs I wasn’t yet familiar with, and after that, the excitement and anticipation that came with each new release.

# Playing Hurricane on guitar many times for the Year 12 students in my first year as a teacher. And then at the end of the year recording a version of It’s All Over Now Baby Blue to be played at their graduation ceremony.

Hurricane

Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall
She sees a bartender in a pool of blood
Cries out, “my God, they killed them all”

It’s All Over Now Baby Blue

Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you
Forget the dead you left, they will not follow you
The vagabond who’s rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore
Strike another match, go start anew
Yes, and it’s all over now, baby blue

# Being overseas for the first time with my sister and checking into a fairly dingy hotel in Paris to find the desk clerk listening to Desolation Row. Appropriately enough, we were robbed in our hotel room that night.

They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They’ve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they’re restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

# Being asked one day to play a song on guitar by a beautiful young teaching colleague named Adriana. I chose Love Minus Zero: No Limit. Luckily she liked it. Still does.

My love she speaks like silence,
Without ideals or violence,
She doesn’t have to say she’s faithful,
Yet she’s true, like ice, like fire.
People carry roses,
Make promises by the hours,
My love she laughs like the flowers,
Valentines can’t buy her.

# Playing Forever Young at our son’s Christening.

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
May you stay forever young

# Throwing a 50th Birthday Bash at our house for Bob in 1991 and sending him a personal invitation via his record company. (Spoiler Alert 1: Bob was a no-show! But we had fun.)

“Valentines can’t buy her.” Chocolate on the hand …

# Being invited to the UBUD Writers Festival in Bali in 2008 and finding the courage to play The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll at a local cafe one night while Melina Marchetta (Looking For Alibrandi) supplied moral support and took a photo as evidence of my performance for posterity.

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel, society gath’rin’
And the cops were called in, and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder

Oh, but you who philosophize, disgrace and criticize all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face for now’s not the time for your tears

(Spoiler Alert 2: William Zanzinger eventually gets off with a paltry six month sentence. “Now is the time for your tears.”)

# Seeing Bob live in concert for the first time in 1978. Brilliant night. What a thrill. And then seeing him four more times over the years including once sharing the experience with my daughter.

So by now you’re probably asking yourself why I’m rabbiting on about all this Bobby Dylan stuff. (Or more likely you stopped reading ages ago and are now happily doing something else. So why am I even typing this for you?)

Anyway I’m rabbiting on about Bob because yesterday Adriana and I went to see A Complete Unknown the Dylan biopic which covers Bob’s journey from early folk hero to temporary electric villain. (Just the very tip of the iceberg of his music career really. Most of the best was yet to come. And hopefully is still coming.)

Since I’ve read plenty of books about Bob Dylan and some by him, I knew there would be little or nothing in the story – key incidents, people or songs – that would be new to me. So my main interest was in seeing how well this crucial part of his life would be recreated on screen and more importantly, finding out if Timothy Chalamet could pull off the enormous task of being, and sounding, like a believable Bob Dylan. (I have very little time for people trying to sound like Dylan because they inevitably don’t.)

So what did I think?

Honestly? Well if you’re a bit of a Dylan tragic like me and you’re wondering whether A Complete Unknown is worth your time, my advice is, don’t think twice, because young Tim is much more than just all right. He is pretty astonishing actually.

His performance of Song To Woody in one of the early scenes blew me away right from the start.

Here’s to Cisco and Sonny and Leadbelly too
And to all the good people that traveled with you
Here’s to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind

And here’s to you too Tim. Big respect for an awesome job. Ard and I both loved it.

Cheers
Michael

Liner notes for Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline album by JOHNNY CASH:

“Of Bob Dylan”

There are those who do not imitate,
Who cannot imitate
But then there are those who emulate
At times, to expand further the light
Of an original glow.
Knowing that to imitate the living
Is mockery
And to imitate the dead
Is robbery
There are those
Who are beings complete unto themselves
Whole, undaunted,-a source
As leaves of grass, as stars
As mountains, alike, alike, alike,
Yet unalike
Each is complete and contained
And as each unalike star shines
Each ray of light is forever gone
To leave way for a new ray
And a new ray, as from a fountain
Complete unto itself, full, flowing
So are some souls like stars
And their words, works and songs
Like strong, quick flashes of light
From a brilliant, erupting cone.

So where are your mountains
To match some men?

This man can rhyme the tick of time
The edge of pain, the what of sane
And comprehend the good in men, the bad in men
Can feel the hate of fight, the love of right
And the creep of blight at the speed of light
The pain of dawn, the gone of gone
The end of friend, the end of end
By math of trend
What grip to hold what he is told
How long to hold, how strong to hold
How much to hold of what is told.
And Know
The yield of rend; the break of bend
The scar of mend
I’m proud to say that I know it,
Here-in is a hell of a poet.
And lots of other things
And lots of other things.