Growing up, I heard plenty of music in my home; my parents had, for those days, a really fine stereo system in our living room, and some beautiful LPs - Modern Jazz Quartet, Odetta, Harry Belafonte, The Weavers, original cast recordings from shows like Fiddler On the Roof and West Side Story, the Brandenburg Concertos - I was far from deprived. And on top of all this, my older sister would let me listen to her 45s with her, on the little portable turntable in the den. The Shirelles, The Crystals, The Ronettes, The Chiffons.
But the most exciting music was always on the radio, because it was where I heard the newest music. And the car radio was best, because we could play it loud, especially when my sister took the car out to cruise around. And my parents were more amenable to letting her have the keys if she let me tag along.
Which is all by way of saying that the first time I heard Bob Dylan, I was in our family's car. Summer of 1965. We had been out somewhere - a restaurant? - and on the way back, my parents had let me play one of "my" stations. No long before we pulled into our driveway, the song came on.
Six minutes later, it was still playing. My parents had already gone inside, telling me to just turn off the car and bring the keys in when I was finished. So I sat there in the back seat, with my door open to let a little breeze in, as the last crashing, wailing measures faded out.
This morning, almost fifty years later and three thousand miles away, I heard it on the way to work - for what may have been the thousandth time - and once again, I was thrilled to the core. I thought - not for the first time - "this is the song that changed me forever".
Then I thought - for the first time - "So what?"
What have you done, with this "changed" you? Have you made the world a better place? Yeah? How?
Where has all this led you?
How does it feel?
But the most exciting music was always on the radio, because it was where I heard the newest music. And the car radio was best, because we could play it loud, especially when my sister took the car out to cruise around. And my parents were more amenable to letting her have the keys if she let me tag along.
Which is all by way of saying that the first time I heard Bob Dylan, I was in our family's car. Summer of 1965. We had been out somewhere - a restaurant? - and on the way back, my parents had let me play one of "my" stations. No long before we pulled into our driveway, the song came on.
Six minutes later, it was still playing. My parents had already gone inside, telling me to just turn off the car and bring the keys in when I was finished. So I sat there in the back seat, with my door open to let a little breeze in, as the last crashing, wailing measures faded out.
Then I thought - for the first time - "So what?"
What have you done, with this "changed" you? Have you made the world a better place? Yeah? How?
Where has all this led you?
How does it feel?
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