Two incredible piece of video that, until this evening, I’d never seen.
Happy Birthday, Bob
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It pissed me off that all the news yesterday was about Dylan’s use of heroin 50 years ago.
http://music-mix.ew.com/2011/05/24/bob-dylan-heroin-birthday-70/
Some cool early photos of the man.
http://www.life.com/gallery/60831/bob-dylan-the-early-years#index/0
Brilliant song writer. Interviews are about as exciting as a Coldplay song.
The story of Hattie Carroll, I predict, will be more timely than ever in the coming decades.
As for Dylan, hasn’t it always be alleged that he introduced John Lennon to heroin?
I don’t know what interviews Tommy is talking about, I’ve never seen a dull Dylan interview. He can be surly, defiant, incomprehensible, deliberately obtuse, hilarious. He’s rarely played them straight, but they certainly haven’t been boring. The amazing drug story is the one that hasn’t been told. Dylan seemed to be under the influence of something, possibly heroin, during the late 80’s and 90’s. People have generally ignored that period when he was at his most erratic, live and on record.
I’m not sure where this belongs, but Gil Scott Heron is dead at 62.
http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2011/05/27/us/AP-US-Obit-Gil-Scott-Heron.html?_r=2&hp
Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks
You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain
You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud
You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
’Til I’m sure that you’re dead.