With her fog, her amphetamine and her pearls

I consider myself a student of popular music. As a student I feel it is important to build a basic musical library of all the "great books" as it were. And if the best albums list of about everybody in the world is any measure, that means I absolutely had to buy Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan.

Dylan's 1966 album is widely considered a masterwork and contends with 1965's Highway 61 Revisited (which I also own) as his best album ever. That's all nice, but I really don't get Bob.

It's nice music and his voice doesn't bother me as much as it does some people. I can admire the groundbreaking style of his lyrics, but that harmonica does grate on my nerves sometimes. Mostly, though, I just don't feel much. People talk about how his songs make than cry but to me he just comes off as cold. Dylan's songs performed by other people make me cry.

I probably end up studying the great albums too much in an effort to figure out what makes them great. Maybe if I stopped thinking so hard they would feel more emotional. Maybe, I just don't have the memories tied to a place, time and era that others have with the great albums of the 60's.