It’s been so rainy and chilly here in Stumptown these past few weeks, with only stolen bits of sunshine and warmth.  It feels like winter, and I look a bit like Bob on this album cover, my absolute favorite of his.  I am bundled up and, perhaps, a bit weary, stern, and blurry.  But warmth will soon be at hand in these parts, I’m sure.

As I am no scholar of music, and I know of the importance of this album (considered one of the greatest of all time), I won’t pretend to know something special about it, save what it arouses in me.  I love the layered lyrics and the sense of wonder and pleasure I feel at the listening.  Is he cruel or kind, dreamy or rooted – probably all of these, for aren’t we all?  The man is thoughtful and gifted (I certainly envy his mad writing skills sometimes) and wickedly clever.  If you don’t already know them, read the lyrics to “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again”  or “Visions of Johanna” and you’ll see what I mean.  Good stuff!

As well, I’ll be taking a break from the blog next week.  See you on the 19th or thereabouts.  Take care my friends!

Gosh, do I ever love this train wreck, though not the actual train wreck part.  I wince whenever I hear her name in the news.  Bless her heart, I sure hope she works out the myriad issues she’s got going on in her very young life because, man, oh man, can she sing!  At once tender and sweet, yet old and wise, too.  I guess that’s what makes it Rhythm & Blues.  Sometimes I play Back to Black on a loop, singing and dancing and dreaming of bouffant hair and thick eyeliner.  As a matter of fact, I think I’ll do that right now.  It’s pretty fine.