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Official Bob Dylan Site
(Bill Pagel's "Boblinks")
(a basically complete collection of Dylan's lyrics)
(roots of Bob's own compositions)
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
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Bob Dylan, 1962 |
There he stands, and who can believe him? Black
corduroy cap, green corduroy shirt, blue corduroy pants. Hard-lick
guitar, whooping harmonica, skinny little voice. Beardless chin,
shaggy sideburns, porcelain pussy-cat eyes. At 22, he looks 14,
and his accent belongs to a jive Nebraskan, or maybe a Brooklyn
hillbilly.
He is a dime-store philosopher, a drugstore cowboy, a men's room conversationalist. And when he describes his young life, he declares himself dumbfounded at the spectacle. "With my thumb out, my eyes asleep, my hat turned up an' my head turned on," says Bob Dylan, "I'm driftin' and learnin' new lessons." Sometimes he lapses into a scrawny Presleyan growl, and sometimes his voice simply sinks into silence beneath the pile-drive chords he plays on his guitar. But he has something unique to say, and he says it in songs of his own invention that are the best songs of their style since Woody Guthrie's. TIME, May 31, 1963. |
"Anything called a hootenanny ought to be shot on sight,
but the whole country is having one. A hootenanny is to folk singing what
a jam session is to jazz, and all over the U.S. there is a great reverberate
twang. Guitars and banjos akimbo, folk singers inhabit smoky metropolitan
crawl space; they sprawl on the floors of college rooms; near the foot of
ski trails, they keep time to the wheeze and sputter of burning logs; they
sing homely lyrics to the combers of the Pacific.
They are everybody and anybody. A civil engineer performs in his off-hours
in the folk bins of the Midwest. So do debutantes, university students, even
a refugee from an Eastern girl's-school choir. Everywhere, there are bearded
fop singers and clean-cut dilettantes. There are gifted
amateurs and serious musicians. New York, Boston, Chicago, Minneapolis,
Denver and San Francisco all have shoals of tiny coffee
shops, all loud with basic folk sound--a pinched and studied wail that
is intended to suggest flinty hills or clumpy prairies."
"JOAN BAEZ -- Folk Singing: Sybil with guitar,"
TIME, Nov 23, 1962.
Bob Dylan on performing
in Greenwich Village coffehouses...
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