Favorite Song No. 334: Bob Dylan – Wigwam

It’s probably telling that my favorite Bob Dylan song is one where he’s not really singing, because… his voice, man. I have nothing but respect for him and what he’s accomplished, and continues to accomplish, and someone that means so much to so many people can’t be dismissed lightly, but boy do I wonder how he got started as a singer. Why not poetry? Motivational speaking? Think about it. At some point, someone heard him sing and said to him “oh, yeah, with that voice you ought to pursue singing as a career.” And he believed it! Boy would I love to have been there to hear that conversation.

I remember reading that William Hung’s Berkeley dorm-mates convinced him he was a great singer, and that he should audition for American Idol, and immediately wondering if Bob Dylan had a similar experience. Was someone pulling his leg? If so, the joke’s on that guy because look at where Dylan ended up. Not only is he perhaps the most respected singer in the history of folk and rock music, he’s even won a Nobel Prize for literature for his lyrics. Dylan’s life has played out like a screwball Preston Sturges comedy– Eddie Bracken ended up mayor??– and I wonder if he still pinches himself every morning to make sure it hasn’t all been one big dream. Good job, Bob. You still sing like a yowling tomcat, but more power to you.

Fun Fact: I read that Dylan recorded the Self Portrait album as a sort of punishment for fans who were upset that he switched from the acoustic to electric guitar. It’s his take on “easy listening” music. I don’t know if this is true, but I hope it is. I respect an artist who will record an entire album, a double-length album no less, as an act of musical retaliation against whiny fans.