I recently saw A Complete Unknown. Bob Dylan is one of my favorite artists, and I actually got to meet and work with Pete Seeger (in fact I visited his log cabin that Dylan spends the night in early in the film, and I can attest that they got those details right) so I was excited to see those two icons acknowledged in our current popular culture and introduced to a new generation. Judging from reactions to the film on social media, the movie was a resounding success on that front (though Joan Baez seems to be the artist depicted in the film who’s really resonating with the younger generation.)
There is no such thing as a perfect biopic that will satisfy both the people who know the history going in and those for whom the film acts as an introduction to the subject. I knew the film would take liberties, and that my reaction would be colored by my own feeling of connection to the period and milieu it depicts. The movie opens in 1961, the year Dylan arrived in New York at age 19, and also the year I was born on Long Island approximately 35 miles east of Greenwich Village. 31 years later I moved to New York and I played at some of the same clubs Dylan played in and got to meet icons like Pete, and Alan Lomax, and Theodore Bikel. I figured that’s the world I would be obsessed with upon exiting the film.
But instead I left the film thinking about another artist I am obsessed with but had never previously associated with this universe: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
Actually I thought about TWO Mozarts: the real one and the one dreamed up by the demented Antonio Salieri in Peter Shaffer’s play and screenplay Amadeus.
Both Amadeus and A Complete Unknown are about immature genius savants who produce art that contains a deep well of wisdom and humanity completely lacking in their social personalities. The main characters are almost supporting players in their own stories, because what they’re really about are the people who try to connect with them but just can’t make sense of the profound disconnect between the sublime music and the selfish brats that produced it.
Bob Dylan’s journey from provincial Minnesota to exciting New York is remarkably similar to Mozart’s escaping Salzburg for Vienna. They were both young, hungry, probably on the neurodivergent spectrum, had a justified confidence in their own abilities that made them both impatient with those who didn’t “get” them and distrustful of those who did, craving attention but unwilling to follow the established protocols necessary to cultivate their reputation and status within the industry – though they intuited that their rebelliousness actually helped their celebrity status even as it aggravated those managing their careers…
Not so surprisingly, Bob Dylan’s recording career has lots of ups and downs.
That’s bound to happen when you stick around for more than 50 years and release three dozen albums during that time. As you’ll see in our list of Bob Dylan Albums Ranked Worst to Best, he’s made classic records in almost every single decade since his 1962 self-titled debut.
And more than any other figure in the history of popular music, Dylan has logged more comebacks than we can count on one hand – which date back to the ’60s and go all the way into modern times.
While it’s been an occasional bumpy road for the singer-songwriter, he still managed to influence generations of artists and revolutionize the sound of music – from folk to rock to even gospel – along the way.
For five decades, Dylan has transformed popular music, rode the waves and filtered it all back again. And, along with a select few contemporaries like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, he’s made some of the most essential listening records in rock history. Like we said, he’s had quite a run, as you’ll see in the below list of Bob Dylan Albums Ranked Worst to Best.
The name Bob Dylan conjures up images of the 1960s and a legendary back catalog of music. Mind you, we don’t need to conjure: we’ve got an amazing selection of vintage pictures right here. From obscure details blowin’ in the wind, to Dylan’s fascinating personal and creative life that keep him forever young, here’s the electrifying lowdown on the timeless strummer, told through stunning photography.
Zimmerman into Dylan
Born Robert Zimmerman, he entered the world on May 24, 1941, growing up in the port city of Duluth, as well as Hibbing, Minnesota. Zimmerman changed his name in 1962, but why? “Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, Marshall Matt Dillon of TV’s iconic western Gunsmoke, and Dillon Road in Hibbing have all been suggested as possible sources,” noted an article on the website of Marquette University Law School…