Irwin Silber, the editor of the folk magazine Sing Out! was there, too. In a few years’ time he would castigate me publicly in his magazine for turni… - Bob Dylan

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Irwin Silber, the editor of the folk magazine Sing Out! was there, too. In a few years’ time he would castigate me publicly in his magazine for turning my back on the folk community. It was an angry letter. I liked Irwin, but I couldn’t relate to it. Miles Davis would be accused of something similar when he made the album Bitches Brew, a piece of music that didn’t follow the rules of modern jazz, which had been on the verge of breaking into the popular marketplace, until Miles’s record came along and killed its chances. Miles was put down by the jazz community. I couldn’t imagine Miles being too upset.

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About Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan (born Robert Allen Zimmerman on May 24, 1941) is an American folk and rock singer-songwriter, born in Duluth, Minnesota. In 2016 Dylan received the Nobel Prize in Literature, "for having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition".

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Birth Name: Robert Allen Zimmerman
Native Name: Robert Dylan
Alternative Names: Bob Landy Robert Milkwood Thomas Tedham Porterhouse Robert Zimmerman Blind Boy Grunt Jack Frost Elston Gunn Lucky Wilbury Boo Wilbury Sergei Petrov Dylan Robert Dylan né Robert Allen Zimmerman Robert Dylan (born Robert Allen Zimmerman) Shabtai Zisl ben Avraham
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Additional quotes by Bob Dylan

"Simple Twist Of Fate"

They sat together in the park
As the evening sky grew dark
She looked at him and he felt a spark tingle to his bones
It was then he felt alone and wished that he'd gone straight
And watched out for a simple twist of fate.

They walked alone by the old canal
A little confused I remember well
And stopped into a strange hotel with a neon burning bright
He felt the heat of the night hit him like a freight train
Moving with a simple twist of fate.

A saxophone someplace far off played
As she was walking on by the arcade
As the light bust through a-beat-up shade where he was waking up
She dropped a coin into the cup of a blind man at the gate
And forgot about a simple twist of fate.

He woke up the room was bare
He didn't see her anywhere
He told himself he didn't care pushed the window open wide
Felt an emptiness inside to which he just could not relate
Brought on by a simple twist of fate.

He hears the ticking of the clocks
And walks along with a parrot that talks
Hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailers all come in
Maybe she'll pick him out again how long must he wait
One more time for a simple twist of fate.

People tell me it's a sin
To know and feel too much within
I still believe she was my twin but I lost the ring
She was born in spring but I was born too late
Blame it on a simple twist of fate.

Bob Dylan, Blood On The Tracks (1975)

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