I hate folk music as a general rule.
So when I enter Starbucks, who is still going thru that adolescent “Crappy music” phase, my day just gets that much better.
Its a lot like having a mild case of the flu.
You feel a little off, nothing tastes right, and you are always a little nauseous.
Coffee, however, has a strong enough taste not to be bothered by that.
Some things never change.
But, and I think most would agree with me, Bob Dylan had a certain window of listenability.
And that window is not only closed, but the new tenants nailed it shut and boarded it up.
And not without reason.
I watched a movie the other night that had Bob Dylan in it.
For those that has never seen it, its a little slice of heaven called Masked and Anonymous.
Here is the IMDB.com description:
“A singer, whose career has gone on a downward spiral, is forced to make a comeback to the performance stage for a benefit concert.”
Possibly the most ill conceived, poorly done film in the history of Hollywood.
And the part I don’t get is that John Goodman is in it, along with Jessica Lang. (Sleeper hotness!)
The two of them should add up to movie gold..
So why does the movie suck?
After much thought, I keep coming back to Dylan.
The mumbling poet himself.
Dylan is synonymous with the 60’s, that whole misguided decade.
Its interesting to talk to a true 60’s hippy.
They will tell you about how they changed the world.
But, when pressed for details, they tend to get sullen and then slip of to go get high.
And if drugs expand your mind, why do the people who take them always talk about the same shit?
As part of my extensive research on folk music, I am listening to Dylan’s “Times they are a changin” on Youtube.
Its a pretty solid song.
You can even make out most of Dylan’s words.
But, that is old Dylan.
Or rather, young Dylan.
Old Dylan, also known as Now Dylan, sounds like he has a half dozen marbles in his mouth.
And his sense of timing is just gone.
One line runs on into the next without pause and even the piano player was stumbling to keep up.
Alright, enough with the Dylan rant, its almost too easy.
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,”
Yeah, thats the kind of shit the 60’s offered.
That’s “Howl” by Allen Ginsberg, widely reputed to be the finest poet of the 60’s.
I am stunned by how badly Ginsberg needed a beating for this self-indulgent crap.
Incidentally, I was thrown out of my college comparative literature class for that opinion.
Some hippies, especially college professors, have no sense of humor.
I think my biggest issue with folk music is the folks that make the music, the music itself, just a few are not bad.
Don’t tell anyone I said that, its kind of embarrassing.