I’m a bigger Bob Dylan fan than anyone you know. I own everything. I enjoy just about all of it. I have long since forgiven Dylan for any of his many musical trespasses over the years, and have even embraced most of them like the big Bob Dylan whore that I am. In the past week I was even listening to “Under the Red Sky” in my car and I’m not ashamed to admit it. If he was revealed to be a serial killer tomorrow, I’d by the guy outside of the courthouse holding the “free Bob Dylan” signs and giving teary, unhinged interviews to television reporters. My Zimmerman love has heretofore known no bounds.
But I think I’ve found when my fanaticism stops. It’s here, and yes kids, there are audio samples. I’ll be in the fetal position for the rest of the day. In the meantime:
And yes, before you say anything, I’ve seen the thing about the Tim McCarver album. I could probably ignore that in ways I simply couldn’t ignore Dylan crooning “O Come All Ye Faithful.”