Bob Dylan
Highway 61 Revisited

LA RECENSIONE

Getting used to a new life, as we know, is always difficult. You once touched gold with your hands, now you pray for a hot meal in winter, in the unreliable streets of New York, overflowing with foreigners. They look at you without pity, make love waiting for the rain. And you keep praying, and they continue breathing, indifferent to you, poor fool. You trusted your guide, when not even She knew where to go.
Lost. Forever, oh yeah.

1965

Dylan, after "Bringing It All Back Home" (with which he brought back to America the rock stolen, like a star from the sky, by the Beatles), decided to give a literal shock to his music. And nothing was ever the same. He changed the world of music, the music of the world, the world itself, even the meteorite that was about to hit the earth changed its course. Four years were missing for the discovery of the Moon, but Dylan in '65 had already discovered something beyond the universe. He, the one and only. Disheveled hair on a hot head, brazen eyes, mysterious tongue. He, Dylan Bob. Hooray!

From the green hill, the Olympus, eternally shining in the twilight of timeless songs, a stone was rolling; she alone conquering failure, which is the greatest success. "And I'll know my song well before I start singin'..."
The impact that "Like A Rolling Stone" had in the history of rock, was only equaled by "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones (krautrock aside, but that's another story though).

Gulping down saltwater your tongue dries much before yesterday.

Then the anger turned into irony, Bob's eternal mockery - "Ballad Of A Thin Man"

"And something's happening here but you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones..."

People living on appearances, people with an empty life, culturally closed.
"...it's well known"

And then, how could there not be that long cavalcade of cosmically derisory images, the overpass of madness and rhetoric, the piece that will forever cement Dylan into history. And what remains? Nothing.

"Desolation Row"

They're selling postcards of the hangin',
they're painting the passports brown...

And with that?

Yesterday I sent my wife Gina to get milk - "Go Gina, go..."

Casanova is about to be punished. Save him.
A kick in the ass is enough.

Eternally yours,
Unusual, with love, confidence, respect.
Greetings. Peace & Goodness.

PS: Yes I received your letters yesterday...