I love Bob Dylan.
No, not like that. I'm not some superfan who has every album, and can quote all kinds of titles and lyrics at you. (well, maybe SOME) I was watching a TV show, and a very cool, professional, great-sounding piece of music came on during the titles at the end. The instrumentation was fantastic, and Bob's voice fit the mood perfectly, and actually gave me goosebumps. It's one of those shows that was obviously written by a baby boomer/baby boomer-lite/gen xer who loves his/her classic rock. No I'm not going to tell you what show, because it will ruin this piece.
The very next episode of the show had an ending credits musical piece that sounded Hendrix-esque. It could have been Jimi, I suppose, but I doubt it, because I had never heard it, and I AM some superfan who has every album, and can quote all kinds of titles and lyrics at you.
I love Jimi Hendrix.
What struck me is that Jimi Hendrix loved Bob Dylan. I would like to believe that Bob Dylan also, in turn, loved Jimi Hendrix, and realized that Jimi Hendrix, one of the greatest natural talents to ever influence the world of rock music and pop culture, thought of himself as insignificant next to the great, legendary Bob Dylan.
And in a way, I suppose Jimi was right. Death robbed of us Jimi's potential legacy, although the one he did manage is not too bad by any measure of rock greatness, and musical genius, and I do not use the word loosely at all, for those of you fond of tired words like "overrated," and phrases such as "I just don't get it."
You DON'T get it, and neither do I, and neither does anybody else, so just abandon yourself to the irrefutable fact that music is subjective, and what is one woman's poetry is another's dirty laundry and day-old egg salad.
There's a lot in this world that I love besides Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan.
But that doesn't change anything.
There are musical greats that shine with the light of a thousand suns, and all the careful analysis in God's universe cannot even begin to poke around at the edges of what inspires us, causes us to dream and love and care and cry and sometimes, on a good day, even laugh.
If you don't get the point, take comfort that you are hardly alone.
But that comfort is all you get.
No soup for you.