I was thrilled to get a chance to finally see Bob Dylan in concert. I own at least ten of his albums and have long admired his apocalyptic visions and rebel spirit.
I forgave him his bad movies, the awfulness of his one foray into fiction (the woeful TARANTULA)...but last night, I came face to face with Dylan the scornful, Dylan the tuneless, Dylan the utterly indifferent.
We've all heard stories about the Great Man going into the tank in live settings but, good grief, I didn't expect--
Well, listen, if you want to read the full story, check out the post on my blog over at Beautiful Desolation...and make sure after finishing it you scroll down and read the bit of satirical doggerel I lobbed Bobbie's way as a parting riposte. Wholly earned, I assure you.
If you paid a premium price for your ticket last night, you have my sympathies.
I got mine free and if it hadn't been for Mark Knopfler, I'd have asked for my money back...
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