Chronicles: Volume One

This gentle and poetically lyrical mystic comes forth in a candid and charming storytelling style that anyone can appreciate. For those who have followed his career since the beginning it's a real treat, a long awaited boon to add to the long list of memories, lines and memorabilia. There's also the distinct sense of hearing his voice as you read and turn the pages. There is no sense of verbosity, no rankling fussiness or bitterness, and no arrogance or crowing in this tender telling of a profound life story. Within these pages you will find only vibrant verbal threads which anchor the weaving of a lifetime's story; this is the beginning to a story of one man, a man who has lived a truly sincere, humble and matchless life. This is the best told story, to date, of this delicate, quicksilver, steely-filigreed man and his intense devotion and dedication to his muse as revelation, offered up for the past forty years to our eyes and ears and hearts through his prolific and uncompromisingly honest artistic expression. Perhaps, thus so, even to the angels. His prose is as rich and varied as any poem or song he has written, which is not so startling as it comes off the same tip of the tongue and pen that has inspired so many. There's a palpable sweetness here, along with what I glimpse as a sly bit of impishness that informs the reader in a quiet easy way of a common song and dance man called upon by unseen forces to write and sing songs, to strive, and to bring his personal dedication and tremendous artistic vision and creativity directly to the forefront for the act of creation, in itself, despite and regardless of intense public scrutiny and evaluation from the masses for good or ill. This is his story and he's telling it the way he must, his way, through the rhythms of his own memories. This story does not go the way the reader might suggest; it's not his to tell. Instead, the telling is told from a masterful maker of images through words, painted lyrically with a keen awareness for each brushstroke as he informs the reader of intimacies and details, discreetly revealing his majestic humiity through a succulently sophisticated and tantalizing tale, literary and delightful in its telling. As with all true artists, his turn of the phrase is unique, elegantly and eloquently his alone, which cannot be missed. His telling of his story is a cool drink of water and goes down very easily. It transcends. In its wake is left an almost delicious anxiety in the anticipated thirsting for more of this graciously engaging story. He would possibly label it as Desire. He leaves everybody wanting for more. It's a joyous and brave blessing brought to bear that he has chosen to share this intimacy with us in this beautiful and unhinged world to which he has given and shared so much. We can honor his endeavors by reading this wonderful book, and by listening closely and allowing ourselves to be touched by his words as he lets us into the matchlessly poetic and lyrical thoughts revealing Bob Dylan's life's adventures of a common song and dance man.

I came up through the same folk scene as Dylan, and at the same time. We are both the same age. Back in 1961, Bob Dylan, an incredible guitar instrumentalist named Perry Lederman, and myself hitchhiked together for a spell. This was around the time that Dylan was squaring of with Danny Kalb at Gerde's Folk City in New York. Later, I helped to organize Dylan's first concert in Ann Arbor, Michigan, my home town. So that is my background. I have not seen Dylan since that time, but like many of us, I have often wondered after the spiritual welfare of our bard. Is he still intact? And, as an experienced editor, I was more than a little interested to see what he had written, afraid of what I might find. I had no idea. The short answer is yes, he is alive and doing well. Some of this book is a running account of the times and Dylan's personal history, complete with descriptive prose, at times bordering on the poetical. Nothing earthshaking here, and were this the only thing the book offered, I would have left disappointed. But there is more, and most important, there is what I had hoped to find, signs that Dylan's incredible laser-like mind is still active. You can't see much of this in the historical recount. Where it shines out is in the Chapter "Oh Mercy," where Dylan details how he re-took hold of himself during what looked like a massive downhill slide of self-confidence, and with a few injections of eternity, turned his performing career around. Better yet, is the INCREDIBLE account of his New Orleans recording session, going into blazing detail on how almost every song was recorded. This is sheer poetry to my ears, not because I could follow everything he was laying down, but because his clarity and love of music comes across like a lightning. This is the Dylan I knew and the one all these years I hoped was still in there. I wish ALL the book was like this. After years of wondering whether Dylan had more or less passed on, but while still was living, I am gratified to see that he is alive, well, and still walking point. I am reminded of something I wrote about Dylan some years ago in an article called "Grant Green: The Groove Master," which this book has just helped to confirm: "To get your attention and make clear that I am saying something here, consider the singing voice of Bob Dylan. A lot of people used to say the guy can't sing. But that's not it. He is singing. The problem is that he is singing so far in the future that we can't yet hear the music. I can assure you he is there. I have heard it. Given enough time... enough years... that gravel voice will sound as sweet to our ears as any velvet-toned singer. Dylan's voice is all about microtones and inflection. For now Dylan's voice is hidden in time so tight that there is no room (no time) to hear it. Some folks can hear it now. Someday everyone will have to hear it, because the mind will unfold itself until even Dylan's voice is exposed for just what it is -- a pure music. But by then our idea of music will also have changed. Rap is changing it even now."

Chronicles Volume I by Bob Dylan It should come as no surprise to those who have listened to Bob Dylan's music, watched his elusive appearances, and followed his unforthcoming interviews, that Dylan often doesn't help you to understand who he is. In what purports to be the first volume of his autobiography, Dylan lets you know who he is and how he got there, but don't expect a straightforward narrative explanation. Just as in his songs and too infrequent appearances, he insists in this wonderful book that you do your work, too. If you do it, however, and are at least marginally aware of the details of his life, you will find this extended riff on Bob Dylan's early years in New York as well as his reflections on family, fame, recording, and more to be deeply informative and most satisfying. In Chronicles: Volume One (Simon & Schuster, 2004, 320 pages, $27.00/11.99) He arrives in New York on a cold winter day, alone with only his guitar for company, not knowing anybody, but curious and open to his own experience. He's searching for Woody Guthrie, even then hospitalized in New Jersey, whose muse has drawn him to folk singing and wandering. He finds his way into the Greenwich Village of the late fifties with only the folk songs he's studied and learned, his dogged persistence, and his intelligence, and then burrows himself in the folk music culture of this interesting period roiling with cultural change in America reflected in the musical and social life of The Village. He begins visiting and then performing at little hole-in-the-wall venues where, during the afternoons, anyone can take the stage to sing, recite poetry, or find their own mode of expression, working for tips. He keeps his eyes open, soon meeting people who welcome him to flop on their couches or mattresses in their apartments. He meets, and cultivates in his own elusive way, Dave Van Ronk, and many other artistic and music business lights in the Village. Dylan describes crashing with Ray Gooch, whose Village apartment was filled with books that he dived into. In an extended riff, Dylan writes about what he read, saw, studied, picked up, put down, returned to and groped through to gain understanding, all the time soaking up a world of literature, history, and art he had become ready to indulge in and integrate into his yearning and experience. He's a virtual vacuum cleaner for seemingly random ideas, musical, literary and artistic, which he slowly but surely integrates. In its own discursive way, Dylan's story emerges. He writes about how Bobby Zimmerman became Bob Dylan through an interesting search for a name reflecting the personna he was constructing for himself. It, like much of the rest of the book, makes sense in its own seemingly rambling way. He begins to change, as well, in his concept of himself as a singer, moving from traditional and contemporary folk music to what he refers to as “topical” songs, being careful to remove himself as a “protest” singer, but rather an observer of the contemporary scene. While the narrative seems to wander, it's actually pretty straightforward, laced with references to reading, listening, interacting with the music community and the world in thoughtful and insightful ways. While the book seems to jump around a good deal, it, nevertheless, captures the person I think Dylan, at least, wants to be. As his celebrity increases, his resistance to being made into something he thinks he's not does, too. He consistently styles himself as a folk singer finding songs in his experience and his internal self. He resists becoming a symbol for the fantasies of others seeking to make him into a symbol. He describes the harassment from “pilgrims” seeking him, along with his growing sense of needing privacy and solitude to do his work. Robbie Robertson, of the Band, asks him, “Where do you think you're gonna take it?” as if he were a single driving force behind music. Life seems to represent his resistance to being styled in some way by others. He writes, “It was impossible for me to observe anything without being observed,” exploring the cost of his celebrity on the family life and creative existence he says he wants to pursue and fulfill. I can find nothing in the narrative that points to his seeking celebrity, much less the iconic status he has achieved. His reactions to attending this year's Nobel Prize award ceremonies represent a consistent response from him, as does the graceful statement he sent in. I'm struck by the need Dylan expresses, which seems very real to me, to live an ordinary family life in the midst of everyone else's desire to turn him into a symbol for something much larger. In the end, Dylan remains a song writer and story tell of unusual grace and breadth. He experiments, as he writes, “throws everything at the wall,” and much of it seems to work for some audience beyond his desires to be a more solitary, family oriented, singer and writer of songs. For, first of all, he's a writer. But the more I listen to him, the more I find him to be a wonderfull, affecting, and honest singer. It should come as no surprise to anyone that Bob Dylan can write. And he can think and sing. What some people might find surprising is that he's a real person, filled with all that portends, yet driven by the external forces of fame and celebrity to become something more. While he doesn't seek sympathy, reading his Chronicles evoked it in me. I find myself liking the person who emerges while, as has become my habit with books by and about musicians, listening to his songs with increasing understanding and empathy. Chronicles gives the reader entree into the real person Bob Dylan is. But, and it's a big But, the reader has to allow him his reality. In that “But” lies the enormous strength and charm of this book. By the middle, I found myself wishing him the peace of a privacy so difficult for him to achieve. Dylan's description of a decade-long low period in his career, from the late seventies through the eighties he describes a sense of disconnection from his own work, his sense that his career was going nowhere, that he no longer wanted to perform...just going through the motions. Leaving a rehearsal for a tour with the Grateful Dead, he drops into an obscure San Francisco jazz joint, hears a singer simply killing it, and has a revelation which turns him around. During the following European tour with Tom Petty, he sings eighty long-neglected songs from his catalog without a repeat and senses new energy and inspiration. Again, taken at his word, it rings completely true to me. There's an integrity to the writing as he digs within to describe the indescribable. I've always thought of Dylan as being non-communicative except in performance, but Chronicles is a performance, too, a journey where he takes the risks of self-discovery and finds what he's looking for. His chapter called “Oh Mercy” referring to what has been described as his “comeback album,” discusses song writing and performance, giving huge insights into Dylan's process. How he thinks, jumps from idea to idea while a concept emerges. He resents other people's over-analyzing, but gives himself to the willing reader and consumer of his music. But it must be on his terms. He won't let you take over for him or force him into a mold. His account of the period spent working in New Orleans with producer Danny Lanois to produce Oh Mercy captures the spirit of trying to build a collaborative relationship as well as presenting an impressionistic view of the city and a motorcycle trip with his wife to bayou country that's a joy to read, an extended riff that also helps reveal Dylan's creative process. “Folk music was all I needed to exist. Trouble was, there wasn't enough of it. It was out of date, had no proper connection the the actualities, the trends of the times. It was a huge story, but hard to come across.” (235) Dylan refers to himself throughout the book as a folk singer, rejecting the critics and fans who would make him into a cultural icon, a leader of a movement, a poet who spoke for and to a generation. For this refusal, for his stubborn insistence to follow his own muse and music, he paid a price, and kept his integrity and at least some independence. Over the more than fifty year course of his career, he has continued to discover himself and his music, while never kowtowing to the rapidly changing world of pop music, but always being aware of what's going on, listening, watching, learning. Dylan was a voracious consumer of the work of other singers and, later, song writers. Soon after leaving home, he discovered Woody Guthrie, whose work consumed him and helped set his course, until he heard “Ramblin” Jack Elliot, who had traveled with Guthrie, and whose confident singing awed him. Throughout the book, Dylan, explores the influences, both musical and literary, influencing him as well as examining his own inner workings. The amount of careful thought and deep searching that went into thinking through this book should not be underestimated, either in depth or in carefully structured writing. For anyone interested in Bob Dylan Chronicles: Volume One (Simon & Schuster, 2004, 320 pages, $27.00/11.99) is must reading. I enjoyed it and learned a lot, too. I bought the book from Amazon and read it on my Kindle App. fd

As with anything involving Bob Dylan, you can expect a mixture of fact, fantasy, and some vagueness mixed in with philosophical wanderings. However, it is a fascinating book and provides a glimpse into the inner thoughts and feelings of a man who is a cultural icon. His writing keeps the reader captivated and its interesting to read what how he presents specific topics, what he selects to highlight, what he briefly mentions and what he keeps to himself. Very enjoyable and good way to gain insights into Bob Dylan.

For someone who has taken great pains to dismantle any claim to greatness, Bob Dylan has sure missed the boat here. He could have illustrated how he's just like you and me and given us some stories from his childhood or of his children's births or of the kinds of motorcycles he appreciates, but, no, he rambles on and on about his ethereal connections to Woody Guthrie and Rimbaud. He shone so little light on himself, I feel like I don't know any more about him than I did before I picked up his book. It left me thinking maybe his book was another project designed to keep people from knowing anything about him. Some examples of his elusiveness: It's not until the middle of the book that he mentions he has a wife and children. Wouldn't these be important events in a person's life? He mentions very little of his childhood. Is he Jewish, atheist, Lutheran? How did he support himself in Minneapolis and NYC at first? According to the book, he has never had a real job. By I find it hard to believe he was able to make a living busking before he signed to Columbia. What did he think of Jimi Hendrix covering so many of his songs? Hendrix is never mentioned. What about his first albums? How did he write Blowin' in the Wind or Positively 4th Street? How could he not mention Tangled Up in Blue or Blonde on Blonde? Is he panning Nashville Skyline when he says he "even did a country record" to keep people at arm's length? He mentions he "changed his voice" to help people realize he wasn't a spokesman for anybody. Is this why many people would day he can't sing? Isn't this contrary to his stated goal of being able to support his family? And why is he so uncomfortable with fame? All he ever sought to be was a great songwriter, like his idol Guthrie, so when he became one, and didn't like it, why did he continue? I've read a few musicians' autobiographies lately - Slash's, Gregg Allman's, Eric Clapton's, and now Bob Dylan's. I feel like I know what Eric Clapton has gone through in his hard life. I know what it was like being a young member of the Allman Brothers Band and losing my guiding light and older brother. I even have a feel for Allman's tastes and opinions. I know how much guitars and rock `n roll mean to Slash and how recklessly he pursued becoming a rock star. I still know next to nothing about Bob Dylan. Which is a shame because his writing is very compelling. When he writes about recording Oh Mercy in New Orleans, he evokes the city I knew when I lived nearby so well I could smell it. Yet... I wasn't trying to learn about New Orleans. I was trying to learn about one of the great songwriters and I feel like I came away empty-handed, clutching at straws. He didn't even mention the album was called "Oh Mercy". I had to look it up. Does he know so little about his own life? Or does he just not care to share? Or is this book just a publicity stunt to keep the royalties coming? I have no idea.

When I was in college back in the mid-1960s, I remember a piece in the student newspaper that sought to explain the new folk music phenomenon Bob Dylan. I wish I had a copy of that story today, just to see how it matches up with the man revealed in Dylan's new autobiography, Chronicles Volume One. My dim recollection is that the sophomoric student article painted Dylan as an inscrutable eccentric trickster, deep yet elusive. That's pretty much the general impression I've had of Dylan since I first heard him around 1964 or '65. And, of course, I thought of him as the conscience and voice of my generation. Well, it turns out that he's neither, as least not in the way most of us thought. Dylan, in his own words, comes across as a regular guy who just wanted to do his job and go home to his family without being hassled by every freak and geek who imagined him to be the new Messiah. In a recent radio interview on NPR - the first he's given in my memory - he's asked if he ever thinks about walking away from music. "Every day," is his comeback. The book reveals a devoted family man who has spent much of his life plugging away at his craft and trying to shield himself and his loved ones from the glare of offstage attention. The further I went in the book, the most shared impressions and cultural perceptions I discovered. I became a grandfather earlier this year and have been wrestling with the idea and its implications of advancing age and life changes. I feel a whole lot better about it now that I know Dylan owns a "World's Greatest Grandpa" bumper sticker. Oddly enough, many of us thought of him as the voice of our generation while at the same time seeing him as detached and set apart from the rest of us. It turns out that he's much more one of us than we realized and it's probably more accurate to think of him as the voice of every generation, whether they know it or not. This is an invaluable book because it demystifies Dylan and blows away all of that "mad genius" stuff that has swirled around him for 40 years. My son, who owns a recording studio, is getting this book for his birthday this year for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the chapter on working with producer Daniel Lanois in New Orleans. I find maybe two books a year that I just can't put down. This is one of those books.

Precisely what fans have been clamoring for.

The book is very well written. I liked it. The only thing is I don't understand the chapters and jumping ahead to 1970 for the recording of the album New Morning and then to 1989 for Oh Mercy. And then goes back to 1962. I wish it was more in chronological order from when Dylan started out and then go through each album as he made it and what was going on in his life during those times. But overall, it is a good read.

Me senti andando pelo Greenwich Village nos idos dos anos 1950 e 1960.

The book of Dylan it is really interesting and once you start it reading you don not wanna stop. It gives so much references about his likes and dislikes in music and books, the way he describes his experiences are really great. I really like this book.

彼の話し言葉が味わえるほどの語学力はないが、持ち歩いて読んでいると少し近づいた気持ちになる。

Its a great book, it lets youknow a lot about American Popular music in the 1930 after the depression, it opens the way to get to know a little about America's forgotten idol Woody Guthrie. Its a basic book to any music lover

What a great book. A real epiphany.