Please excuse my rambling. I'll try to make my entries more concise and to the point. I just get really excited sometimes and I go on and on. Bare with my please, I'm working on it. But then again, what are personal blogs for?
So as I said earlier, family is sacred to me. I grew up with the music my parents loved, listened, and connected with when they were in college. I grew up listening to the intense conversations my parents had about corrupt institutions, about war, politics of today and back when they were in school/college. So much of the rhetoric I hear/read in class, especially the music, I've heard at home (from Bob Dylan to Young, CCR to Hendrix, from corrupt politicians to lying governments)! And it excites me, it excites something in me! Such a small thing but I feel like it's a call to action. It reminds me of my values, the things I love, what I stand for, and it makes me want to act, to shake myself and other people from the slumber we're in. I connect with this class on a very personal level, as I connect with the love and words of my parents, and the wisdom and amazing rhetoric of artists like Dylan and Marvin Gaye among many others that responded to the Vietnam War.
You say Dylan is sacred to you. Mr. P I feel the same way. So does my mother. So do many other people who have connected with the words he wrote and sang. I think we can all learn a little from what he has to say. When I listen to Dylan, I feel immense love, profound truth, and an excitement that calls me to action. And I think about this generation- who will be next Bob Dylan, who will shake the foundations of our institution into consciousness? What role will my/our generation play in it? How will I contribute? On some level/s I feel like this class is awaking a dormant volcano in me, not a bad volcano, but a good one. Pretty fabulous.
I had to see Bob Dylan. I couldn't go on Friday or Saturday but I was definitely going on Sunday to see Bob. I knew ACL would be loud and hot and uncomfortable and bombarded with people and advertisement, but I had to see him. He came to this boisterous setting and I was going to thank him for coming by going to see him. After seeing Lucinda Williams I went straight to the Bob Dylan stage. He wasn't going to play until three hours later but I was determined it was well worth the wait. I wanted to experience the man and his band as close as I possibly could. When I got to the stage there were already quite a few people there, some of which were ther
e for the My Morning Jacket that played before Dylan, but I knew most of them were probably there for Bob and not the other band.
It was a long wait, and I spent most of it standing. I sat down a few times even when My Morning Jacket was playing, but mostly I was on my feet. It was my first ACL experience, and it was hot, and the air was congested with everyone's body odor and various exhaled chemicals. I got to know everyone around me since, and in three hours of we became a temporary family. It was kinda cool. The crowd was filled with all kinds of people from different age groups and states and cultural background, and in general they were all really friendly. And after three hours of waiting out comes Bob and his band. Everyone is cheering and clapping. Right away the band starts playing and the crowd is psyched. I don't recognize any of the songs he plays. And only after the crowd cheers him back on for an encore, do I hear one song I know and it's "Like A Rolling Stone." It was the only song that he played from his old albums. The rest were from his newest album or from recent works he's put out- at least that's what some of the older folks around me said.
During the concert, he only spoke once to the crowd and it was right before his last few songs. He said "Thank you, friends", introduced the members in his band, and that was it. The rest of the time he sang and played. The majority of the time he played on his piano and not so much on the guitar. He did some harmonic playing and it definitely excited the crowd.
I was pretty damn close to the railing. Close enough to where I could see the wrinkles on his face and the small feathers in his hat. I had this intense impulse to want to hug him. I thought he was beautiful. His voice was deeper more crackled than usual and he sang in a different manner. I guess its a combination of his older age and his change in style. When he sang "Like A Rolling Stone" he wouldn't quite hold out the lyrics ("hoooowww does it feeeeeelll, like a complete unknown, like a rooooolling stooonne") like he does in his original recordings. Instead it was like he spoke the words real fast in a monotone that only fluctuated at the end of each phrase. So there was a lot of time in between lines where the instrumentals were just playing. It's hard for me to explain, but the point is his style of singing was different than any of his first few albums.
And when it was all over, I felt really sad. I felt Bob Dylan was growing old, and it's true he is. He's like 66 or 67. I was sad that his style was different- it had changed. It made me wish I could have seen him back in the 60's and I know wishing won't change anything, but I thought about it anyway. It made me think about growing old and about death. I found a little consolation in the fact that everyone dies, people get old, and change is part of life. My mom, I think partly to comfort me, told me "Eva, he's always been like that. He's always switched up the way he sings his songs. He used to change the versus of songs and add stanzas that weren't there originally." My mother's words helped a little, but I guess I find the best comfort in what Bob had to say, "The times they are a-changing."
I need to write my R.A. So much for being concise huh? ha. I'm out.
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