About A Bob

[Sweder]

There's an interesting pull-out-and-keep piece in today's Times called Bob Dylan, The Drawn Blank Series. The focus is on Dylan's visual art, in particular his sketches and watercolours which if I'm honest are interesting for their observation if a little ordinary.

I was drawn to the closing article in the piece. It's by one of my favorite modern newspapermen, Simon Barnes. Did I say 'modern'? Hm, not sure that's strictly accurate. Barnes regularly writes insightful pieces on two of his passions, sport (and the inherent nature of sportspeople) and wildlife. Never the twain meet in Barnes' paper world, the former pieces appearing at the back of the paper, the latter in his country notes somewhere in the early sections. Though I recall a recent article where, on leaving the ground in Moscow after covering a particularly exciting football final he was thrilled to hear the call of a rare breed of thrush cutting through the rainy night air. I don't always see eye to eye with Simon - he can be a little cutting when dealing with sports and sportsmen close to my heart - but I respect his balanced, considered view, and so duly gave him air time on the subject of Freewheelin' Bob.

This piece on Dylan intrigued me because like me Barnes is/ was not a fan. Also like me he's recently had cause to revise his opinion. Perhaps maturity plays a part. I'm not sure - I find myself less tolerent of things that don't fit neatly into my life; having embraced the New Wave in my youth I'm almost ashamed to say much of my daughters' prefered music - mistakenly (in my view) labelled 'R&B' - leaves me cold, as does the sweeping tundra of soul-less ©rap. A more likely reason might be Dylan's longevity - he just won't go away. And, if I'm fair, he's aged disgracefully, producing challenging work and - this hurts a little - some excellent music in recent years.

Barnes goes further.
'I thought Dylan was not for me. I was wrong. He is for everybody.'
Some statement, but then if an ageing headbanger like me can turn his ear to the Great Whiner maybe he has a point. Barnes goes further still.
'There are playwrites and then there is Shakespeare. There are pop singers and then there is Dylan. Grasp that and you have the measure of him.'
Giddy stuff from a hardened journo not prone to hero-worship.

Whatever your view (and there may be some who I feel fairly sure will be keen) I urge you to seek this out today. In case you miss it I'll keep a copy.