Happy Birthday, Bob

Two incredible piece of video that, until this evening, I’d never seen.

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  1. Knox
    Posted May 25, 2011 at 6:25 am | Permalink

    It pissed me off that all the news yesterday was about Dylan’s use of heroin 50 years ago.


  2. E. Tick
    Posted May 25, 2011 at 6:39 am | Permalink

    Some cool early photos of the man.


  3. Tommy
    Posted May 25, 2011 at 10:04 am | Permalink

    Brilliant song writer. Interviews are about as exciting as a Coldplay song.

  4. Mr. X
    Posted May 25, 2011 at 12:13 pm | Permalink

    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?

  5. Bob
    Posted May 25, 2011 at 5:09 pm | Permalink

    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.

  6. K2
    Posted May 28, 2011 at 9:30 am | Permalink

    I’m not sure where this belongs, but Gil Scott Heron is dead at 62.


  7. dragon
    Posted May 30, 2011 at 7:02 pm | Permalink

    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.

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