Forty years later, Dylan still inspires

By Patrick MacDonald
Seattle Times music critic

E-mail this article Print this article Search archive Most read articles Most e-mailed articles

Other links Search event listings

If you weren't there, it might be hard to understand the cultural upheaval of the 1960s. There was nothing like it before, and nothing since.

The Roaring '20s may have been somewhat akin, with young people baffling their elders with outrageous fashions, heady swing music, complete disregard for Prohibition and loosened sexual mores — sex, drugs and swing, if you will.

But it didn't turn society on its head like the '60s, when kids grew their hair long, wore colorful clothes and flowers in their hair, smoked pot, ingested mind-blowing LSD and danced to psychedelic music, when they weren't in the streets protesting the Vietnam War. It was a complete rejection of their parents' world.

Although he doesn't like to admit it, and probably wasn't intending to be, Bob Dylan did become the spokesman for the '60s generation. His "Blowin' In the Wind," "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall" and especially "The Times They Are A-Changin' " will forever define the era.

Dylan is such a cultural landmark that fans like me remember the first time they heard him, the first time they saw him in concert.

I was going downstairs to my high-school friend Buddy Jarvis' basement room — after having let myself in the back door (this was when you could leave your doors unlocked in Seattle) — in the spring of 1963 when I heard that voice blaring on the stereo. "That guy can't sing!" I said to Buddy as I entered the room. He rolled his eyes and said something like "He's the greatest folk singer in America." My idea of folk music then was the Kingston Trio and the Brothers Four.

Thanks to Buddy, who made me sit down and listen to Dylan, I soon "got" him — his intelligence, his humor, his politics. I went out and bought his first two albums.

But the first time Dylan played here, in 1964, opening for Joan Baez at the Arena, I didn't go. My older brother, Duncan, was dragged to it by his girlfriend, a Baez fan. When he came home, he woke me up and raved on and on about the show, and how great this Dylan fellow was. The next time Dylan came to town, a year later, I saw him. And I've seen every show he has done here since.

But Dylan's greatest impact on me was when I was a disc jockey here on KOL-FM in the '60s and '70s. I was on the air six hours a night, six nights a week, for almost four years, and every night I played Dylan. It was a ritual of respect, and also practical, because I knew the audience would appreciate any Dylan song. I especially remember when "Nashville Skyline" came out in 1969, and playing it for the first time, on the air. Sharing that moment with listeners was a thrill.

While EMP's exhibit of Dylan's early years will cast light on his formation as an artist, the most amazing thing about Dylan is that he is still vital, still creative, more than 40 years after he began his recording career. He was an inspiration to me as a teenager. And he still is today.

Copyright © 2004 The Seattle Times Company

E-mail this article

Print this article

Search archive

More Entertainment & the Arts headlines...