Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan, (nacido con el nombre de Robert Allen Zimmerman el 24 de mayo de 1941 en Duluth, Minnesota, Estados Unidos) es un cantautor estadounidense, autor, músico y poeta. Ha sido, durante cinco décadas, una de las mayores figuras en la música contemporánea, siendo considerado uno de los compositores y músicos más influyentes y prolíficos del siglo XX.[1] Muchos de los más célebres trabajos de Dylan datan de la década de los 1960s, cuando se convirtió en un cronista informal y un reacio testaferro de los conflictos estadounidenses. Algunas de sus canciones, como "Blowin' in the Wind" y "The Times They Are a-Changin'", se convirtieron en himnos antibélicos y de los movimientos civiles de aquella época.[2] Su más reciente disco de estudio, "Modern Times", lanzado el 29 de agosto de 2006, debutó en las listas estadounidenses en el #1, convirtiéndolo, a los 65 años de edad, en la persona de mayor edad en alcanzar esta posición.[3] Más tarde fue nombrado como El Álbum del Año por la revista Rolling Stone.[4] Las primeras letras de Dylan contenían temas sociales, filosóficos e influencia literaria, desafiando la música pop convencional existente y apelando generalmente a la contracultura de aquel tiempo. Mientras expandía y personalizaba estilos musicales, mostraba una firme devoción por muchas tradiciones de la música americana, de folk y country/blues a gospel, rock and roll y rockabilly, a música folk inglesa, escosesa e irlandesa, inclusive jazz y swing.[5][6]

Letra de I Shall Be Free No. 10
Now I'm just average, common too
I'm just like him, the same as you
I'm everybody's brother and son
I ain't different than anyone
Ain't no use to talk to me
It's just the same as talking to you.

I was shadow-boxing earlier in the day
I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
I said "Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay here I come
26, 27, 28, 29, I'm gonna make your face look just like mine
5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Cassius Clay you better run
99, 100 101, 102, your ma won't even recognize you
14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleen.

Well, I don't know, but I've been told
The streets of heaven are lined with gold
I ask you how things could get much worse
If the Russians happen to get up there first
Wowee! Pretty scary!

Now I'm liberal, but to a degree
I want ev'rybody to be free
But if you think that I'll let Barry Goldwater
Move in next door and marry my daughter
You must think I'm crazy!
I wouldn't let him do it for all the farms in Cuba.

Well, I set my monkey on the log
And ordered him to do the Dog
He wagged his tail and shook his head
And he went and did the Cat instead
He's a weird monkey, very funky.

I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun
I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
And my wig-hat falling in my face
But they wouldn't let me on the tennis court.

I gotta woman, she's so mean
She sticks my boots in the washing machine
Sticks me with buckshot when I'm nude
Puts bubblegum in my food
She's funny, wants my money, calls me honey.

Now I gotta friend who spends his life
Stabbing my picture with a bowie-knife
Dreams of stranglin' me with a scarf
When my name comes up he pretends to barf
I've got a million friends!

Now they asked me to read a poem
At the sorority sister's home
I got knocked down and my head was swimmin'
I wound up with the Dean of Women
Yippee! I'm a poet, I know it
Hope I don't blow it.

I'm gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange
So I look like a walking mountain range
And I'm gonna ride into Omaha on a horse
Out to the country club and the golf course
Carrin' the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds.

Well you're probably wondering by now
Just what this song is all about
What's probably got you baffled more
Is what this thing here is for
It's nothin'
It's something I learned over in England

Crear cuenta


  • Mínimo 6 caracteres




Radio Online

Pop
Rock
Indie
Urban
Clásica
Electro
Jazz
    Español Otros
    2010
    2000
    1990
    1980
    1970
    1960
    1950