Bob Dylan awarded Nobel Prize

[ChevyVanMiller]

Becomes first musician to win the Nobel Prize in Literature.

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/14/arts/music/bob-dylan-nobel-prize-literature.html?_r=0

[gomper]

Long overdue! His lyrics are timeless. I find myself listening to his songs for the 1000th time, 30 years later, and say to myself "Oh, THAT'S what he means" lol

[The Poojer]

i wrote my junior year(?) high school(1979-80) american lit term paper on Dylan. We had to pick an american author. B+ bitches!!!!!

Edited October 13, 2016 by The Poojer

[TakeYouToTasker]

Greatest American poet of the 20th Century.

[Best Player Available]

Well deserved for his Bobness.

He is playing in clearwater fl. in about a month. Doubtful he will play his oldchella set. Which was very good. Doesn't matter anymore what he plays. the never ending tour is fun. Wish he could still play guitar though.

[Pete]

Long overdue! His lyrics are timeless. I find myself listening to his songs for the 1000th time, 30 years later, and say to myself "Oh, THAT'S what he means" lol

same here. I am still trying to decode Desolation Row-

Desolation Row

WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN

They’re selling postcards of the hanging

They’re painting the passports brown

The beauty parlor is filled with sailors

The circus is in town

Here comes the blind commissioner

They’ve got him in a trance

One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker

The other is in his pants

And the riot squad they’re restless

They need somewhere to go

As Lady and I look out tonight

From Desolation Row

 

Cinderella, she seems so easy

“It takes one to know one,” she smiles

And puts her hands in her back pockets

Bette Davis style

And in comes Romeo, he’s moaning

“You Belong to Me I Believe”

And someone says, “You’re in the wrong place my friend

You better leave”

And the only sound that’s left

After the ambulances go

Is Cinderella sweeping up

On Desolation Row

 

Now the moon is almost hidden

The stars are beginning to hide

The fortune-telling lady

Has even taken all her things inside

All except for Cain and Abel

And the hunchback of Notre Dame

Everybody is making love

Or else expecting rain

And the Good Samaritan, he’s dressing

He’s getting ready for the show

He’s going to the carnival tonight

On Desolation Row

 

Now Ophelia, she’s ’neath the window

For her I feel so afraid

On her twenty-second birthday

She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic

She wears an iron vest

Her profession’s her religion

Her sin is her lifelessness

And though her eyes are fixed upon

Noah’s great rainbow

She spends her time peeking

Into Desolation Row

 

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood

With his memories in a trunk

Passed this way an hour ago

With his friend, a jealous monk

He looked so immaculately frightful

As he bummed a cigarette

Then he went off sniffing drainpipes

And reciting the alphabet

Now you would not think to look at him

But he was famous long ago

For playing the electric violin

On Desolation Row

 

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world

Inside of a leather cup

But all his sexless patients

They’re trying to blow it up

Now his nurse, some local loser

She’s in charge of the cyanide hole

And she also keeps the cards that read

“Have Mercy on His Soul”

They all play on pennywhistles

You can hear them blow

If you lean your head out far enough

From Desolation Row

 

Across the street they’ve nailed the curtains

They’re getting ready for the feast

The Phantom of the Opera

A perfect image of a priest

They’re spoonfeeding Casanova

To get him to feel more assured

Then they’ll kill him with self-confidence

After poisoning him with words

And the Phantom’s shouting to skinny girls

“Get Outa Here If You Don’t Know

Casanova is just being punished for going

To Desolation Row”

 

Now at midnight all the agents

And the superhuman crew

Come out and round up everyone

That knows more than they do

Then they bring them to the factory

Where the heart-attack machine

Is strapped across their shoulders

And then the kerosene

Is brought down from the castles

By insurance men who go

Check to see that nobody is escaping

To Desolation Row

 

Praise be to Nero’s Neptune

The Titanic sails at dawn

And everybody’s shouting

“Which Side Are You On?”

And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot

Fighting in the captain’s tower

While calypso singers laugh at them

And fishermen hold flowers

Between the windows of the sea

Where lovely mermaids flow

And nobody has to think too much

About Desolation Row

 

Yes, I received your letter yesterday

(About the time the doorknob broke)

When you asked how I was doing

Was that some kind of joke?

All these people that you mention

Yes, I know them, they’re quite lame

I had to rearrange their faces

And give them all another name

Right now I can’t read too good

Don’t send me no more letters, no

Not unless you mail them

[unbillievable]

Before Lennon?

That's like skipping Steve Tasker for the Hall of Fame.

[ChevyVanMiller]

One of Bob's initially unreleased gems:

 

Blind Willie McTell

Bob Dylan

 

Seen the arrow on the doorpost

Saying, "This land is condemned

All the way from New Orleans

To Jerusalem."

 

I traveled through East Texas

Where many martyrs fell

And I know no one can sing the blues

Like Blind Willie McTell

 

Well, I heard the hoot owl singing

As they were taking down the tents

The stars above the barren trees

Were his only audience

 

Them charcoal gypsy maidens

Can strut their feathers well

But nobody can sing the blues

Like Blind Willie McTell

 

See them big plantations burning

Hear the cracking of the whips

Smell that sweet magnolia blooming

(And) see the ghosts of slavery ships

 

I can hear them tribes a-moaning

(I can) hear the undertaker's bell

(Yeah), nobody can sing the blues

Like Blind Willie McTell

 

There's a woman by the river

With some fine young handsome man

He's dressed up like a squire

Bootlegged whiskey in his hand

 

There's a chain gang on the highway

I can hear them rebels yell

And I know no one can sing the blues

Like Blind Willie McTell

 

Well, God is in heaven

And we all want what's his

But power and greed and corruptible seed

Seem to be all that there is

 

I'm gazing out the window

Of the St. James Hotel

And I know no one can sing the blues

Like Blind Willie McTell

[rockpile]

Greatest American poet of the 20th Century.popular.

 

One of the greatest, no doubt. Also one the boldest. He wrote and he played, whether or not it was popular.

The true sign of an artist is to create because that is what you do.

[gomper]

same here. I am still trying to decode Desolation Row- Desolation Row

 

 

WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN

Theyre selling postcards of the hanging

Theyre painting the passports brown

The beauty parlor is filled with sailors

The circus is in town

Here comes the blind commissioner

Theyve got him in a trance

One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker

The other is in his pants

And the riot squad theyre restless

They need somewhere to go

As Lady and I look out tonight

From Desolation Row

 

Cinderella, she seems so easy

It takes one to know one, she smiles

And puts her hands in her back pockets

Bette Davis style

And in comes Romeo, hes moaning

You Belong to Me I Believe

And someone says, Youre in the wrong place my friend

You better leave

And the only sound thats left

After the ambulances go

Is Cinderella sweeping up

On Desolation Row

 

Now the moon is almost hidden

The stars are beginning to hide

The fortune-telling lady

Has even taken all her things inside

All except for Cain and Abel

And the hunchback of Notre Dame

Everybody is making love

Or else expecting rain

And the Good Samaritan, hes dressing

Hes getting ready for the show

Hes going to the carnival tonight

On Desolation Row

 

Now Ophelia, shes neath the window

For her I feel so afraid

On her twenty-second birthday

She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic

She wears an iron vest

Her professions her religion

Her sin is her lifelessness

And though her eyes are fixed upon

Noahs great rainbow

She spends her time peeking

Into Desolation Row

 

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood

With his memories in a trunk

Passed this way an hour ago

With his friend, a jealous monk

He looked so immaculately frightful

As he bummed a cigarette

Then he went off sniffing drainpipes

And reciting the alphabet

Now you would not think to look at him

But he was famous long ago

For playing the electric violin

On Desolation Row

 

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world

Inside of a leather cup

But all his sexless patients

Theyre trying to blow it up

Now his nurse, some local loser

Shes in charge of the cyanide hole

And she also keeps the cards that read

Have Mercy on His Soul

They all play on pennywhistles

You can hear them blow

If you lean your head out far enough

From Desolation Row

 

Across the street theyve nailed the curtains

Theyre getting ready for the feast

The Phantom of the Opera

A perfect image of a priest

Theyre spoonfeeding Casanova

To get him to feel more assured

Then theyll kill him with self-confidence

After poisoning him with words

And the Phantoms shouting to skinny girls

Get Outa Here If You Dont Know

Casanova is just being punished for going

To Desolation Row

 

Now at midnight all the agents

And the superhuman crew

Come out and round up everyone

That knows more than they do

Then they bring them to the factory

Where the heart-attack machine

Is strapped across their shoulders

And then the kerosene

Is brought down from the castles

By insurance men who go

Check to see that nobody is escaping

To Desolation Row

 

Praise be to Neros Neptune

The Titanic sails at dawn

And everybodys shouting

Which Side Are You On?

And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot

Fighting in the captains tower

While calypso singers laugh at them

And fishermen hold flowers

Between the windows of the sea

Where lovely mermaids flow

And nobody has to think too much

About Desolation Row

 

Yes, I received your letter yesterday

(About the time the doorknob broke)

When you asked how I was doing

Was that some kind of joke?

All these people that you mention

Yes, I know them, theyre quite lame

I had to rearrange their faces

And give them all another name

Right now I cant read too good

Dont send me no more letters, no

Not unless you mail them

I always loved how this song eloquently describes that emotional space where everything that could go wrong, went wrong. That's just me I guess. Grateful song. Epic lyrics.

Edited October 14, 2016 by gomper

[ChevyVanMiller]

It appears that Bob is being Bob pertaining to the acceptance of the award.

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/18/business/media/dylan-newest-nobel-laureate-maintains-his-reticence.html?_r=0