An inside source said: "It looks like they asked someone who didn't really know much about Dylan to find footage for the report. Perhaps when you're in your 20s one old rock star looks pretty much like another. But anyone editing the package should have known something was wrong. Dylan's voice isn't exactly smooth, but this guy sounded like someone strangling a cat!"
১৫ অক্টোবর, ২০১৬
"The BBC has admitted mistaking footage of a 'third rate' Bob Dylan impersonator for the singer in a report about his Nobel Prize award."
"Instead of using stock footage of the artist singing his hits on the BBC's Six O'Clock News, a young producer at the corporation mistook a tribute act for the folk legend...."
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The better singing voice is a dead giveaway
Didn't Dylan do American classics a while ago? Or was that somebody else. Everybody agreed it sucked, whoever it was.
My favorite Dylan is Alice's Restaurant, which turned out to be Arlo Guthrie and not Dylan.
More humor.
Lamar Gonna Set You Straight....
It's easy being an Impersonator of a White Artist: you don't need to know how to Dance. You gonna do James Brown, you gonna do Tina Turner, you gonna do Michael Jackson, you gonna do Prince, you gonna do Beyonce, you gotta move smooth like a Black Brother or Sister, not just strum White Boy Chords on an acoustic guitar...
White People, they think a Black Artist Dancing somehow makes them Less Important: it's 'Entertainment', not Art. If Art means you stand around like you got a stick up your ass than I'll leave the Art to you White People who wouldn't know the downbeat if it kicked you in your asses...
Black People can bring the Truth in song and look fucking good doing it, and that scares White People: they can't impersonate THAT...
So keep pimpin' that White Boy Shit: after all, it's all you got...
You think you got Problems? Fuck You.
I am Laslo.
"It Ain't Me, Babe"
What has happened to old-fashioned fact-checking in the media? It doesn't matter if a "young person" who was "unfamiliar with Dylan" picked the bogus footage. It was that persons's job--and the job of those who oversee the larger media production--to check and double-check that what they present is as accurate as can be determined. Heck, all one would have to do is review an array of YouTube videos of Dylan to be able to see the genuine from the fake.
(I've never been a fan of Dylan, being a tad too young to have seen him as any sort of "voice of my generation," and I never cared for his singing. I've also never liked Bruce Springsteen, which seems heresy to many. They've both written good songs, but they're both--to my taste--grating performers of their own songs. The one Dylan song I like, sung by Dylan, is "Lay Lady Lay." I can't think of a Springsteen song I like sung by Springsteen.)
but this guy sounded like someone strangling a cat!
IMO all the more reason to believe that they had the real Dylan.
@BigMike, that comment was too easy. :)
Total agreement with Cookie here -- the age of the person responsible is a red herring. Fact Checking used to be emphasized in a Newsroom -- whatever happened to that.
Well, not total agreement. I like Springsteen. My Hometown and Down to the River and Glory Days. And yes, Born to Run.
"I can't think of a Springsteen song I like sung by Springsteen." I'm the same way. I can't think of a Mozart song I like sung by Mozart.
Sorry.
Socially Awkward Guy Who Makes No Eye Contact says:
I don't like Bruce Springsteen, sorry. Sure, he writes all these songs about average people trying to escape their bleak situations, but did any of these people ever wet the bed until they were sixteen? Did these people's mothers ever embarrass them by buying them plain Sears sheets for every birthday? Did Bruce ever want to pee on Rosalita...?
Maybe the Girl with the Blue Hair would ride away with me, if I had a motorcycle. Even if I did, I just can't picture asking her to strap her hands across my engines: that just isn't me, I don't think. I don't know, maybe she can strap a hand around my asthma inhaler...
I CAN picture HER on a motorcycle, Blue Hair peeking out from under her helmet, but that just makes me want to pee on her more. Oh God that makes me want to pee on her more. I don't think Bruce Springsteen would understand...
Maybe that's why I like old Heavy Metal: maybe Judas Priest wasn't singing about peeing on girls, but you could imagine that they could be. "You've Got Another Thing Coming": like that...
Like no one else thinks these things.
I hope the Girl with the Blue Hair is working at McDonalds today.
I am Laslo.
If they wanted a first-rate Dylan impersonator they could have asked Jimmy Fallon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9Itfq746tA
Dylan sang his hits on BBC six o'clock news?
Is that a regular thing on the news over there?
Did the impersonator also sing on the BBC news?
I guess we'll have to suffer through endless Dylan posts till Bob makes his Nobel Prize speech and goes back to being a 70 y/o over-the-hill rock and roller.
The hold that pop singers have on the minds of otherwise intelligent people baffles me. Its especially true of women. They really love pop music, I wonder what the evolutionary reason is behind it. Calling Bob Wright.
I like how they try and make it sound like a video in their vast archives just happened to be mislabeled. They probably just told some intern to download something quickly from youtube.
Actually, I went to a Dylan concert recently, and he in fact does sound like s strangled cat.
Is this a minor kerfuffle, or a humorous story that highlights how little anyone under 50 actually cares about Bob Dylan getting the Nobel Prize for literature?
Before anyone is too quick to attack the producer, I ask you this, How much footage must a man track down before you can call him a man?
My favorite Dylan is Alice's Restaurant, which turned out to be Arlo Guthrie and not Dylan.
My favorite non-Dylan is Stealers Wheel's "Stuck In The Middle With You".
Does anyone under 50 know who Bob Dylan is?
Robert Cook said...
What has happened to old-fashioned fact-checking in the media? It doesn't matter if a "young person" who was "unfamiliar with Dylan" picked the bogus footage. It was that persons's job--and the job of those who oversee the larger media production--to check and double-check that what they present is as accurate as can be determined. Heck, all one would have to do is review an array of YouTube videos of Dylan to be able to see the genuine from the fake.
They have been educated in a system that does not believe in facts or truth. So why learn to fact check if facts don't exist.
Hating great literature just exposes your lack of appreciation for the finer things in life.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You...
Oh man, the Right Guitar: it's like a Lover, you know? You run your fingers along it and it sings, sings with a sweet voice, the notes dancing and twirling like scarves in the wind.
Then someone takes that guitar and THEY play it, and it's not the same anymore: it's never the same. They touched her neck; maybe they put their fingers insider her sound-hole. Now she is cold to the touch. Now her sound makes your blood run cold.
That's the Truth about Guitars.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You.
Oh man: sometimes a song you've written just feels like it's always been a part of you: you are inseparable -- it feels like it shares your very Soul.
Then someone hurts you, and now THEY sing YOUR song. And it hurts, man: it hurts real bad. Now that song, it's like you don't even know it anymore. Now when you sing that song it feels like you're lying, that everything is okay but it's not, that fucking bitch sang the song and it's ruined forever.
Some songs are like that.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You.
Oh man: sometimes you're in a band, and everything is right, you groove without even trying. You play your solo and you trust everyone to have your back, to be there behind you, one-hundred-percent.
Then one of the members, they decide they want to play another instrument. Another instrument that is also in the band. They go and play that instrument, no matter how much it fucks up the band. And it fucks up the band a lot. Especially the guitar player. You don't need someone that now wants to play a different flute. Just stop blowing that other flute, bitch: that's all I'm saying.
It's tough being in a band.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You.
Oh man -- theres always a Don Henley, man: there's ALWAYS a fucking Don Henley.
You get your band airtight, all the pieces are in their proper place, then a Don Henley comes along, saying he wants to jam with your band.
You say "Back off, dude -- this is MY band," but then someone from the band sneaks around and jams with Don Henley. The asshole should just stick to his own band, but no, he wants to jam where he shouldn't be jamming. And then it all goes to shit.
The Don Henleys: they'll ruin your band, man.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You.
Oh man -- band members and their solo albums.
The band is rolling big, when out of nowhere one of the members decides they need to do a solo album. Like the band isn't big enough for them. And the band member doesn't remember that YOU taught them how to write a song in the first place, YOU could've written those songs if you wanted, but you save YOUR solo albums for Art, not crap for the radio.
Then the band member hits it big as a solo artist, taking advantage of all the hard work you did to get them there in the first place. And now there are fucking lace scarves everywhere, on YOUR stage, because they think they are now bigger than the band.
People who buy solo albums don't know who they are hurting.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You.
Oh man, touring: it can be a drawn-out drag, you know?
Everyone thinks it must be so great being on the road, but after awhile you don't even know where you are, you start losing the sense of up from down, and all the luxury hotels have the same luxury pillows. And then there are the drugs and the alcohol and the sex.
Don't get me wrong: I know people have a lot of sex on the road. I get it: I'm a rock star, I had rock star hair, chicks dig me. But some members take it too far. Sure, go ahead and fuck all the members of The Eagles: you're only hurting yourself. Ride in THEIR jet. Just try to remember: you're a rock star, not a disposable whore. Whatever.
I fucking HATE Don Henley.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Lindsey Buckingham Has Something to Share With You.
Oh man, that fucking Don Henley.
I ran into him at the bar of some hotel somewhere on the road and I said to him "You like fucking up people's bands, don't you?"
He acted like he didn't know what I was talking about.
"Dude," I said, "I don't care if you fuck up your own band -- and you seem to be doing pretty damned good at that -- but don't go messing around with mine, understand?"
"He just shook his perm and chuckled. Man, I would have socked him good if I wasn't worried that I'd hurt my guitar hand and screw up the tour: there are a lot of people on the tour depending on me, and I never take that lightly.
So we did some coke in the bathroom, and he tried to take more than his share of that, too.
I fucking HATE Don Henley.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
No Fleetwood Mac fans in the House of Althouse?
Really?
I kinda figured there would be a sizable overlap.
I am Laslo.
Five times seems excessive.
I ran into Don Henley just a few months ago. I figured a lot of water was under the bridge, but -- no -- the dude's a bigger douche-bag than ever.
He asked me if I had any Xanax, and I said "Sure, yeah" and handed him my prescription bottle from my pocket. I always keep it on me because all the years on the road have fucked up my nerves.
So I expect him to take one and hand the bottle back, but he takes three, and then puts the bottle in HIS pocket.
"Dude," I say, "Give me back my Xanax."
He looks at me and says "I think I need these more than you do."
"It's MY fucking Xanax, dude."
"Glenn is dead. Me and Frey, we had our moments, but I always loved him like a brother. There is so much I wish I could take back, but my chance is over, and I have to live with that."
"Yeah, I'm sorry your friend is dead, but I have to live with the fact that you fucked up my band."
"That was forty years ago. I think you need to let it go," he says, trying to be all sage and shit.
So I say: "You know what YOU need to let go? Fucking with underage girls."
"He looked genuinely hurt, so that felt good, and then he left.
I fucking HATE Don Henley.
By the way: I fucked Stevie Nicks.
When she was Hot.
I am Laslo.
Eagles drummer and vocalist Don Henley was arrested in 1980 in Los Angeles and charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor after paramedics were called to his home to save a naked 16-year-old girl who was overdosing on cocaine and Quaaludes. He was fined $2,000, given two years' probation, and ordered into a drug counseling program.
I am Laslo.
Blogger rcocean said...
Does anyone under 50 know who Bob Dylan is?
10/15/16, 2:31 PM
**********
My two kids, bothguitar players mid-20's, know and sing a bunch of his songs.
Just as they know and sing a wholelotta 60's and 70's songs, Beatles, Metal, you name it. ( Except rap, which "sucks".)
Surprised the hell outta me that they and their buddies know so much. When I was their age THE LAST THING I wanted to listen to was "Big Band" and "Swing", the music of my parents' generation.
Laslo, why aren't you publishing this through CreateSpace?
Seriously, man, "Laslo Spatula's Little Red Humor Book" would be hilarious to see.
The New Yorker introduces a young Bob Dylan to their readers.
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1964/10/24/the-crackin-shakin-breakin-sounds
At fifteen, he was also playing the harmonica and the autoharp, and, in addition, had written his first song, a ballad dedicated to Brigitte Bardot. In the spring of 1960, Dylan entered the University of Minnesota, in Minneapolis, which he attended for something under six months. In “My Life in a Stolen Moment,” Dylan has summarized his college career dourly: “I sat in science class an’ flunked out for refusin’ to watch a rabbit die. I got expelled from English class for using four-letter words in a paper describing the English teacher. I also failed out of communication class for callin’ up every day and sayin’ I couldn’t come. . . . I was kept around for kicks at a fraternity house. They let me live there, an’ I did until they wanted me to join.”
That's just one thing, the whole article is great.
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