Bob Dylan is my idol. Everybody has that person growing up that made them see things a little differently than they did before, Dylan is that guy for me. My dad gave me the 'Blonde on Blonde' album on cassette tape when I was seven or eight. It took me a while to get into Dylan's vibe, but once I did, I never looked back.
Did he ever-try?' Mingus shrugged. 'He was like you.' What's that mean?' Means he tried.' Of course. The ring was not a neutral tool. It judged its wearer: Aaron Doily flew drunkenly, and Dylan flew like a coward, only when it didn't matter, at the Windles' pond. So if had attuned to Robert Woolfolk's chaos. Don't tell me, ' said Dylan. 'He flew sideways.' Mingus left it vague. He'd always made it his habit to protect their honor against one another-Dylan, Arthur, Robert. To say nothing.
I had lunch with my brothers, ' Mark said, his face serious. 'While you were still asleep. They told me. About Corey and that stupid set-up you agreed to where you'd pretend not to be my wife... ' 'I never agreed to pretend not to be your wife, ' Dylan said. Mark's face grew serious then. 'That's what it amounted to in the end though, didn't it? You pulled away from me in exchange for me getting... what?' 'Your career back, ' Dylan said. 'Your life.' 'Dylan, you're my life. You.
"Joss" "What?" "What?" Dylan asked back. "You just said my name." "No I didn't" "Sorry that was me." I sat up, banging my head on the roof. "Who is that?" "Hey, stay down here where the air is good, okay?" Dylan pulled me gently back down. "Hows your head?" "Not good, I think." "Um, okay, so you here me. Heather's right, you do think loud. I mean, I've never heard you before, but my Talent seems to be a lot more selective than her's. But now that she's got me turned in to you-" "Who are you?" "It's still me, Marshall. It's Dylan. I'm right here." "My name's Joel." "Joel?" "Joss, what are you talking about?" He took my face in his hands. "Who's Joel?" "The voice in my head, I guess." "Jesus.
I moved to leave, and Dylan actually grabbed my shoulders. I was so surprised that i forgot to karate-chop his elbows and break his arms.' "I don't want anything to happen to you," he said urgently. "What you want does not matter here," I said slowly and carefully. I hoped Dylan was sensitive enough to read between the lines, to the subtext of: Let go of me or I'll kill you.
What always attracted me to [Bob] Dylan, and what has sustained me as a Dylan listener, or has always continued to surprise me, is his voice, the way he sings, the way he wraps his voice around certain words, the way he backs off from melodic moments, the way he moves forward to grab something in a song that, were anybody else performing it, they would have no idea it was even there.
I would just say there are no two roles that are more demanding than Bob Dylan of 1966 [Blanchett's role in 'I'm Not There'] and Carol Aird of 1952. I challenge any director out there to come up with a wider divide. I had to convince her to take the Dylan role, and that took effort. But with 'Carol,' she was already attached.
There's no concession to the fact that Dylan might be a more sophisticated singer than Whitney Houston, that he's probably the most sophisticated singer we've had in a generation. Nobody is identifying our popular singers like a Matisse or Picasso. Dylan's a Picasso - that exuberance, range, and assimilation of the whole history of music.
Most of the artists were trying to make a living, trying to get laid, trying to figure out who they were. They weren't trying to change the world. That's what other people put on them. I knew all those people. I knew them all, intimately and well. Bob Dylan. I would say that Bob Dylan is as interested in money as any person I've known in my life. That's just the truth.
The drama teacher that I had in high school, back in Texas, was the only teacher who didn't kick me out of his class. He turned me on to 'The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan.' I had picked up Dylan with 'Bringing It All Back Home,' and he turned me on to the first couple of albums, which I hadn't heard.
The young cast that's coming in now, Dylan Sprayberry and Khylin Rhambo, they're great! Dylan Sprayberry came out to surf with me a couple of weeks ago and he's such a good kid and he's a kid! I mean he's 16 years old, and you forget the energy and the dynamics and the mindset of a real 16-year-old. It's just beautiful! It's limitless energy and just a whole different kettle of fish. I think that they're a great addition to the show.
I found this, though, " Gazzy said excitedly, holding up a small green box. "Gas-X! Like, 'X' for explosion! This is great! I'm thinking I rig this with a detonator and-" "Did you find that in the medicine cabinet?" Dylan asked. "Yeah." "It's for upset stomachs, " Dylan said, trying to hide a smile. He pointed to the words on the box. "It's to reduce gas in you digestive system, not to create more gas to make explosions." Gazzy's face fell as Iggy said, "Really? Gazzy, take it! Take the whole box!
The first time I heard Bob Dylan, I was in the car with my mother listening to WMCA, and on came that snare shot that sounded like somebody'd kicked open the door to your mind ... The way that Elvis freed your body, Dylan freed your mind, and showed us that because the music was physical did not mean it was anti-intellect. He had the vision and talent to make a pop song so that it contained the whole world. He invented a new way a pop singer could sound, broke through the limitations of what a recording could achieve, and he changed the face of rock'n'roll for ever and ever.
Abby: "You were great. I don't know what I'd have done without you." Dylan: "You'd have done fine. That's one of the most intimidating things about you." Abby: "Intimidating? Me?" Dylan: "It isn't easy for a man to get involved with a woman who's totally capable of handling anything that comes along... It isn't easy for a man to believe that there are woman who can not only do those things but enjoy them... [But] it's all natural for you isn't it? It's incredible.
It's only sixteen ninety-five, " I say with a flutter of my lashes. "You're serious." I prop my hands on my waist and stick out a hip, striking a pose worthy of a supermodel. "Look at me. Don't I look serious?" She collapses into the chair outside the dressing room in a fit of giggles so cute they make my insides fizz. "No! You must be stopped, " she says. "Why?" I strut down an aisle of yellowed lingerie, swiveling my hips, batting bras with flicks of my fingers. "I will be the king of the disco. I will be-" I spin and strike another pose. "An inspiration." She sniffs and swipes at her eyes. "The real Dylan would die before he'd be seen in public in something like that." "The real Dylan is boring." I brace my hands on the arms of her chair and lean down until our faces are a whisper apart. "And he's not one fourth the kisser I am." "Is that right?" Her lips quirk. "You know it is." Her smile melts, and her breath comes faster. "Yeah. I do.