Happy birthday, Bob Dylan!
Because I'm sure you're reading this.
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I discovered Bob Dylan when I was twelve, after watching Martin Scorsese's documentary, No Direction Home. My mind was kind of blown.
I started to sing and play his songs, and I memorized 17 out of 20 verses of his "It's Alright, Ma, I'm Only Bleedin'" before I thought "When am I ever going to perform this?" and quit. Now I regret it just a bit. I remember on a road trip to Upper Michigan, we picked up on a radio station from an American Indian reservation, and it was playing "Desolation Row."
After about two verses Dad--who dislikes Bob Dylan's music--gave a groan and said, "Is it done yet?"
"There's about 10 more minutes left, Dad."
Then he rolled his eyes and groaned again.
So, whether you love him or hate him, there's no denying the impact he had on music and a whole generation. I don't want to get too maudlin, but I think I would be a very different musician had it not been for the work of Bob Dylan.
If you've got an hour, listen to MPR's documentary on his early days in Minnesota, from Hibbing to the Twin Cities.
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