#0050: Bob Dylan - Bringing It All Back Home [*]

I thought I told you to fuck off.

Okay.  Fair's fair.  If Hitler showed up with a new plan to eliminate poverty, you'd give him a chance to speak, right?  Yes, his solution would be kill the poor but you'd wait for him to say it, right?  Oh you wouldn't?  I suppose he is Hitler after all and you know what you're in for.

You see where I'm going with this?  I know this wasp-eyed whingocrat well enough to predict a bleak sojourn in a wilderness of monotonous nasal straining.

But I'm gonna let my Hitler speak.  And once I've listened to what he has to say, then I'm gonna cut his legs off and feed him to the pigs.

Ah bollocks.  The first track is Subterranean Homesick Blues; one of those songs I've always loved when other people have played it and never knew it was Bob Dylan's work.  This is enjoyable because I know the song but it does just sound like he's doing a shit cover version.  Much nicer production on this album though.  The next track's okay too.  If I concentrate really hard, I can just about make out enough variation in the note he's singing[1] to make what in his terms constitutes a melody.

Bob Dylan's 115th Dream is everything I hate about this torpid, rat-faced sore on the penis of rock n roll.  After a false start, which they left in the take like the self-satisfied arrogant cunts they are, he proceeds to tell a story that goes nowhere and does nothing for too long.  Desperate rhymes on meaningless lines that could've been cut, leaving the track half as long and twice as bearable.

Mr Tambourine Man.  Well fuck me, it's a song.  An actual song, with words that actually mean something.  And a tune!  Oh, wait a third verse straight after the second chorus with no discernible change at all.  Aaand here comes the fucking harmonica a day late and a dollar short.  Oh for god's sake boy, put it down.  Thank you.  No, no, no not another fucking verse!  Jesus.  Why does this song need to be 5 and half minutes long?  Bohemian Rhapsody was only 5:55 and that was 10 years later and even then they were told they'd never have a hit with a 6 minute song.   But you know what?  It had seven harmonically distinct sections and even in the operatic bit when the words made no fucking sense, all those beautiful harmonies provided a more than adequate distraction.  This is just a tautologous mess.  The Byrds made this a hit; a number one hit.  Running time: 2 minutes 16 seconds.   Booyah Bob you self indulgent prick.

I've had a tit full of this cunt now. 

People say, "oh if you only had a time machine, you could go back and see what was happening and experience the impact of his music in context".  No.  If I had a time machine I'd go back and pay for his mum to have an abortion.

[1] and by singing I mean I'd be unable to distinguish that sound from a Yorkshire terrier chewing on a scorpion.