So, it’s with some embarrassment that I confess to rarely listening to his singing. Often nasal and occasionally cracking, Dylan’s voice has a sincerity and an integrity that suits his songs. What his voice doesn’t have is an ease of listenablity. For this reason, when I listen to a Bob Dylan song, I’m likelier to listen to a cover by a more accomplished vocalist than to an original recording by the tunesmith himself. I’m sure that my admission has just irretrievably cost me whatever cultural credibility I might have had with the music mavens of the world. But such are my shortcomings.
The juke box at my local bar can download multitudinous songs from Cyberspace. Whenever I’m visiting the old watering hole and feel like inflicting a block of Dylan songs on the room, I will usually play the following covers:
So, despite my musical apostasy, Happy 70th Birthday, Bob Dylan. Here’s hoping for another 70 years of vital songs and a tireless presence on the music scene. Here’s hoping that you never stop.
Now, if you’d just do something about that mustache ...