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Cowboy angel
Wednesday, September 28, 2005

It's amazing to meet up with the man you first gave your heart to thirty years on and discover you still feel the same about him .. and that he is still having visions of you. I'm talking about Bobby of course. What was so touching about No Direction Home (which you can preorder from like you haven't already taped it) was seeing him lose his cherry in every possible way- the way his face changed from puppy fat to sharp faced pussy cat in a dudeish suit as the fame and the expectation reached messianic levels, his face going through all those expressions during press conferences (god those people were stupid) like a man finding himself dropped from space and discovering to his horror that a) everybody thinks you are god and b) you are required to tell them the meaning of life not only through your art but in simple easy to follow instructions. And then there's c) - they don't like it if you won't play the game - which is their game - acoustic, political, liberal. He looked shell shocked - "pressed and hammered". I'm amazed he was able to take the piss as much as he did.
What was also brilliant about this movie was the way you could see young Bob in old Bob - haven't been able to do that for a while cos he's so remote on stage. Here he had that old twinkle in the still blue eyes. His mouth - ah, his mouth.
Some great photos on this site: Found some lovely tiny clips on this site - amateur, underwater and very appealing. I saw his feet. I would wash them with my hair.
5:53 AM  

  • At 1:42 PM, Blogger Apprentice said…

    I wondered what all the recent fuss has been about, he's been on the radio a lot. There was a wee snippet about the bloke who shouted "Judas" at him at that first wired gid. Including an interview with the bloke who shouted it, who admitted to feeling like a right plank afterwards. Direction Home. Hmm.

  • At 5:26 AM, Blogger Jojo said…

    Andy Kershaw devoted a whole programme on Radio 3 to that gig - 2 blokes apparently confessed to it, one of whom died recently from a reaction to a sting from newly acquired bees. Somehow this will find its way into a poem. Yeah enough of Bob already - I'm listening to the Rakes!

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