As he turns 70 today, those of us who have been following Bob Dylan's music from the off are reminded of how old we are. In my 21st year I went home to Bulawayo for the Oxford summer vacation and in my suitcase, along with a bunch of philosophy books and some texts of classical Marxism, I carried a copy of The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. I wanted to introduce him to my family. One of my more vivid early Dylan memories is of sitting around one evening in the house at 6 Birchenough Road, playing 'Don't Think Twice, It's All Right', 'Talkin' World War III Blues' and the rest of those wonderful songs to a company that included one or two first-time-up sceptics. Never mind the songs, was the gist of their scepticism, but could the guy even sing, with that thin, not-quite-tuneful voice of his?
My, but could he sing. And could he write songs...
From a guest post by me for Bob Dylan's 70th birthday at the Spectator Arts Blog. Today might also be the day to revisit this old post.
Update: The post has now disappeared from the Spectator site, so I've re-posted it here.