A Yearlong Bob-a-Thon
...beginning today.
I have decided that I am embarking on a yearlong Bob-a-Thon, beginning today. Between today and December 30, 2025, I intend on listening to all of Bob Dylan’s studio albums, in chronological order. And maybe some of the live albums and compilations as well.
A confluence of three events led to this decision.
First, Donna, Chris, and I went to see A Complete Unknown at the Colonial Theater in Phoenixville on Saturday afternoon. It was a sold out showing, so we were lucky to have bought our tickets in advance, even if we couldn’t sit together, since we were the last three people to arrive.
I loved the movie. It takes liberties with certain timelines and facts, but not in the super annoying way that the Queen and Elton John biopics did (though I liked them both for the performances, etc.). But the movie does a great job of portraying Dylan as someone who was/is clearly gifted but also in the words of Joan Baez (in the movie) “kind of an asshole.”
Second, yesterday, we learned that Jimmy Carter had died. This led us to rewatching the documentary, Jimmy Carter: Rock’n’Roll President that was released in 2020. Carter speaks about Dylan with great admiration, and, in a rare on-camera interview, Dylan does that same about Carter. In fact, I think Dylan’s appearance in Rock’n’Roll President, is the clearest, most un-obfuscated I’ve ever seen Dylan make.
Finally, today would have been my father’s 83rd birthday (we lost him at 61, way too soon). My love for Bob Dylan comes directly from Dad, who played his records around the house when I was very young; and from Mom, who procured the records for Dad, who claimed he only bought one album for himself in his life.
(That record was Joe Cocker’s Luxury You Can Afford, which I prompted Dad to buy at a WoolCo department store roundabout 1979 for the princely sum of fifty cents.)
Dad had Nashville Skyline, Greatest Hits, New Morning, and John Wesley Harding around the house. But he mostly listened to the first two, and he listened to him enough that I am now convinced that most familiar voice I knew other than the members of my immediate family and some extended family members when I was a kid was Dylan’s.
Dad was not fanatical in his enthusiasm for Dylan — for example, he never owned Blood on the Tracks, though he did love Time Out of Mind when it came along — but his fandom taught me a few things:
Unconventional voices can be beautiful and can convey truths that can be powerful (“And you better start swimming or you’ll sink like a stone…”); irreverent yet profound (“You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows”); and even silly (“Raspberry, strawberry, lemon and lime/What do I care?”). It’s no accident that I love nearly all the “unconventional voice” singers you can think of.
Going on deep dives with the albums you love is a good thing!
Parents shouldn’t be afraid to play the music they love — and not just the acceptable “children’s music” of the day — for their kids. Play the music you love for your kids, they’ll absorb, and then they’ll go off and find their own music to add to the music you played for them. It’s a beautiful thing.
Being so young when I first heard how Bob Dylan played with words left a deep impression on me, and I’m convinced that it was Bob Dylan’s words that inspired me to want to spend my life playing with words as well.
There’s more, I’m sure, and as I work my way through Dylan’s albums, those insights may come to me. But, as always, thanks again Dad and Mom, for the gift of the music you loved.
So here’s how this will work. Over the course of this year, I will listen to Bob’s studio albums in chronological order. I am not going to impose deadlines on myself, other than that one year from today, December 30, 2025, I will celebrate the 84th anniversary of Dad’s birthday by listening to Dylan’s most recent studio album, Rough and Rowdy Ways.
Also, if I want to listen to any of Dylan’s albums outside of this Bob-a-Thon, I’m going to do that. I’ll just not be reporting those listens here.
As for today’s entry, Dylan’s eponymous debut album was released on March 19, 1962. It’s not one I’ve heard too often, at least up until the last two days, during which I’ve listened to it several times.
As far as I know, Dad never owned Bob Dylan (nor do I, the copy I was just listening to on vinyl belongs to my son Chris) but I think he would have liked it. It’s only got two Dylan originals on it, but it’s a lively country blues-based record that generally doesn’t get too self-consciously folky for its own good. Dylan clearly already understood how to make his voice, guitar playing, and harmonica blowing all work together. And those three elements are all you hear on this rudimentary album.
A Complete Unknown spends a decent chunk of time covering the recording, release, and aftermath of Bob Dylan, giving the impression that the man himself was not entirely pleased with it. Despite that, Bob Dylan put something big in motion that hasn’t stopped rolling in more than 60 years.