The Boss has been a follower, believer, lover, soulmate, addict of Bob Dylan since 1965. He’s never wavered, even when for a time The Maestro lost some of his writing magic. Always believed. Never stopped playing his music. Collected all his concerts, his recorded out-takes sets. Listened to some shit quality bootlegs, forcing his ears to listen between the hiss and the whine, the echo and the blur, to identify the unique voice singing words of such majesty it frequently reduced him to tears irrespective of where he was.
He’s told me all this many times over these years we’ve been together. He always speaks about “the soul” that exists in The Maestro’s music. He rants about friends who have never “got Dylan” because he loves his friends and wants them to experience the joy that he has received.
Although in the grand scheme I am a newcomer to The Maestro, because we are so inseparable, he tells me so many of this inner thoughts. I can tell you, my dear friends, his constant extolling of The Maestro is never-ending (like the man’s touring).
Him Indoors is the ultimate supporter of live, NEW, music. NEW artists. He is the arch opponent of cover-bands, scathing in his attacks upon them for stealing the work slots from up and coming artists. He really is vicious about them, whilst accepting they are fine musicians in their own right.
The Maestro does NOT do greatest hits nights. His concerts are like no other artist. He plays with his works of art, testing our faith in his music. His voice has appeared in at least twenty different guises during his career. It’s always new music because it’s so changed. Lots don’t like it, they want the original. I think not, my friends, I think not!
The brilliance of this song in a sense has summed up his brilliance throughout his career. It is a song that veers between 1963 (the day of JFK’s assassination) and today. It encompasses all of our youthful dreams but the lifetime realities. He doesn’t seek to explain, or analyse, but simply provide these events for us to fit our own life within those dates. All his career, in all his work, he has generally provided the space for us to put our own lives into his songs and his music. This is the essence of genius.
As always, it’s in the soul of the song. He leaves us to fill the gaps. He always has done, which is why “the fools” who complain never understood the he doesn’t need to tell the audience about the songs. The songs are given to us. We choose what each song means. And after listening for 55 years Him Indoors will tell you, a song that meant one thing a year ago (or fifty years ago) means something else today. ALL his songs are timeless, that’s the skill that is genius.
So over the weekend the genius of the man Him Indoors simply calls “The Maestro” has illuminated our hours. If I’ve heard this new song once, I have heard it twenty times. The Boss plays it loud, I mean LOUD! He wants to hear every pause, every breath, every nuance of a work of art similar to looking at a painters work.
On this very same day, we have experienced what friendship can mean as Chris & Jacky, worried that the Old Boy was running low on red wine (I’m not surprised, he has started to look expectantly at the clock at 6.00 in the evening) as he thinks about dinner and then eyeing the ever emptying wine rack, sent down a couple of bottles of red “to keep him going”. How kind is that act, I ask you all? Then this morning, his pals Andrea & Adrian left him a bottle on the step as well. Friendship truly is a special thing. He’s been all of a panic because his order isn’t coming yet, poor old thing.
I should be concerned he’s turning alcoholic but it’s a bit late for us to worry, don’t you all think?
All this quiet means I can get plenty of sleep. My most hated destination – the vet – has cancelled my annual check-up and the injections with it. Suits me, I consider them to be tyrants since my “anal gland incident” some years ago.
His Lordship has been trying out some ready (meaning they send all the ingredients, etc for him to cook) meals in case the supermarkets continue to make booking on-line deliveries totally impossible. These “Mindful Chef” all look nice, and smell nice, but I’ve barely had a taste of them so I hope he packs them in pretty quickly.
Him Indoors might be in semi-isolation but he’s not isolating from his food, I can tell you. I’ve encouraged him to get on a diet but he bleated something about needing to comfort eat in response. Blimey, if he doesn’t get that exercise bike going full-bore we will be winching him off the settee. Not a pretty thought.
I’d best get on now with another sleep. Rumpy Pumpy sends our love. Hope you all stay safe and avoid this dreaded virus. It’s changing our world far too quickly. Himself confided he worries that some of these restrictions are a foretaste of the new world that awaits us after the antidote is created. I’ll give that some thought before ranting to you about that!
Woof! Woof!
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