In 1975,Bob Dylan was almost 10 years past his prime - and then he released the best album of his career, Blood on the Tracks. Written and recorded amid a painful divorce, Blood on the Tracks is proof that heartbreak makes great art - just as many of the albums that followed were the opposite.
Somebody had to be Bob Dylan. I guess I was best equipped to do the job.
There would be brilliant songs, but, as [Bob] Dylan admitted on the recent Martin Scorsese documentary about him (No Direction Home), the specific muse that inspired "It's Alright Ma" would not return.
I define nothing. Not beauty, not patriotism. I take each thing as it is, without prior rules about what it should be.
If I wasn't Bob Dylan, I'd probably think that Bob Dylan has a lot of answers myself.
I accept chaos, I'm not sure whether it accepts me.
Life is more or less a lie, but then again, that's exactly the way we want it to be.
Even if you don't have all the things you want, be grateful for the things you don't have that you don't want (Bob Dylan's dad)
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims Into your eyes where the moonlight swims, And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns, Who among them would try to impress you? -Bob Dylan, "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” (1966)
Back seat drivers don’t know the feel of the wheel but they sho’ know how to make a fuss" Bob Dylan/Bonnie Raitt, “Let’s Keep It Between Us,” 1982
In the dime stores and bus stations People talk of situations Read books, repeat quotations Draw conclusions on the wall Some speak of the future My love she speaks softly She knows there’s no success like failure And that failure’s no success at all -Bob Dylan, “Love Minus Zero / No Limit” (1965)
[Bob] Dylan crashed his motorcycle in 1967, and almost died. A few years ago, he referred to the experience as a "transfiguration."
"Subterranean Homesick Blues" [of Bob Dylan] captures, in word-salad format, life in an encroaching police state.
Along with some of the worst music of Bob Dylan's career ("Self-Portrait," 1970), this period produced some gems - including many songs recorded with The Band in '67 but not released until years later.
I'd been going though his trash. He knocked me down. I was glad to see him, even though he was banging my head against the sidewalk. Afterwards these bums come over and say, 'Did he get much money?' I say, 'Money'? That was Bob Dylan.
Whatever that ["transfiguration" by Bob Dylan] means, it's true that the poetic brilliance of the early career would never really reappear.
The confessional singer-songwriter movement of the 1970s was in full swing, and Bob Dylan's emotional album [ Blood on the Tracks] resonated with the times. There would be other hits, but never the same alchemy of emotion and time.
Bob has never written a bad song. Bob Dylan is a genius.
Bob Dylan wasn't a big star early on; it was the release of his Greatest Hits album in 1967, and the mainstream success of the stoner anthem "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" ("Everybody must get stoned!"), that really put him on the mainstream map.
One night around that time, at Hammersmith, Bob Dylan was about to go into [his 1963 classic] 'Don't Think Twice, It's Alright.He said, 'Hey, Bucky! Play mandolin on this.' I am not really a mandolin player; I could only play in certain keys. Halfway through, he stops the band, turns to the audience and points to me. He says: 'He isn't playing, he's miming.' And then: 'Should I fire him?' The whole audience yells.
"Like a Rolling Stone" [of Bob Dylan] is a kiss-off song like none before or since.
Just in time for Bob Dylan to recoil from the attention, leave the city for Woodstock, and turn his back on fame.
Popular music had never had lyrical sophistication of this type [like Bob Dylan]; wit, to be sure, but "Darkness at the break of noon/Shadows even the silver spoon/The handmade blade, the child's balloon/Eclipses both the sun and moon/To understand you know too soon/ There is no sense in trying"? No.
Bob Dylan wrote in his elliptical memoir, Chronicles: Volume One, he was washed up in the 1980s, no longer a commercial success, and no longer putting out good work.
If you wanted to, it would be easy to find some crappy lyrics [of Bob Dylan] from the Eighties to undermine the Nobel Prize.
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