Every week we give away a voucher worth TWENTY FIVE EUROS to splurge at any of the 13 Golden Discs stores nationwide.
All we ask from you is for a tune that we can play.
This week’s theme: Bob Dylan
What to YOUR mind is the newly crowned Nobel Laureate’s greatest lyrical contribution to music?
To enter, just complete this sentence
‘To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be ________________________________________’
Lines MUST close at MIDNIGHT
Sponsored Link
‘To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be
‘Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off
Bootylicious.
‘To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be **Inaudible mumbling**.
All tomorrow’s smarties.
Original studio version.
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be-
‘Mona tried to tell me
To stay away from the train line
She said that all the railroad men
Just drink up your blood like wine
An’ I said, “Oh, I didn’t know that
But then again, there’s only one I’ve met
An’ he just smoked my eyelids
An’ punched my cigarette’
Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again (1966)
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be (maybe Trump can break it out!):
“Someone’s got it in for me, they’re planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they’d cut it out quick but when they will I can only guess”
From “Idiot Wind”
Or Tweeter and the Monkey Man – all of it
Well now. On the basis of all this (bar, of course, ZeligIsJaded’s masterpiece) you wouldn’t exactly be flinging a Nobel Prize for Literature at him, would you?
Poor ole Philip Roth. ROBBED, I tells ya.
‘To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be the entire song of ‘Hurricane’… the first Bob song I really got taken in by :)
One that always stuck with me is the brilliantly simple, yet deeply cutting message to someone who turned on him when he left the trad folk music scene..
Positively 4th Street’ – 1965
“I wish that for just one time, you could stand inside my shoes, you’d know then what a drag it is to see you..”
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be-
Madame Butterfly, she lulled me to sleep, in a town without pity, where the water runs deep
She said, “Be easy, baby, There ain’t nothing worth stealing in here!”
– Tight Connection to my Heart
Every Grain of Sand..
amazing lyric
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be from To Ramona, a song to console even the heaviest of hearts:
“The flowers of the city
Though breathlike, get deathlike at times
And there’s no use in tryin’
To deal with the dyin’
Though I cannot explain that in lines.”
Some boy altogether.
Everybody say you’re using voodoo, your feet walk by themselves
Well, everybody say you’re using voodoo, I seen your feet walk by themselves
Oh baby, that god you been praying to
Is gonna give ya back what you’re wishing on someone else.
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
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be from Talkin’ New York off his first album, some great versus but I like this
Well, I got a harmonica job begun to play
Blowing my lungs out for a dollar a day
I blowed inside out and upside down
The man there said he loved my sound
He was raving about he loved my sound
Dollar a day’s worth.
Also partial to the ‘Pump don’t work cause the vandals took the handle’ line from Subterranean Homesick Blues
*verses, doh
hmmmph nmfffnmmm abadaaaa nmohgo
‘To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be:
Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels
He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice, he asks you how it feels
And he says, “Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan”
Ballad of a Thin Man
I broke into the tomb, but the casket was empty
There was no jewels, no nothin’, I felt I’d been had
When I saw that my partner was just bein’ friendly
When I took up his offer I must-a been mad
“Now the Union Central is pulling out
The orchids are in bloom
I’ve only got me one good shirt left
And it smells of stale perfume
In 14 months I’ve only smiled once
And I didn’t do it consciously
Somebody’s got to find your trail
I guess it must be up to me.”
I love the specificity in it, and the resigned fatalism of the last two lines.
We know Admin read the comments so why do they ignore questions about unethical practices in former competitions? A winner of an Angry Birds competition earlier this summer never received their prize and a €100 Lindt chocolate giveaway advertised two weeks ago was deleted after attracting 60 responses. Promotions with prizes are subject to legal requirements . . . Broadsheet and Lindt have breached the Advertising Standards Authority rules on promotional marketing, see ASAI code section 3.
If they had explained why they took the post down (confessed to eating all the chocolate or misunderstanding the offer from Lindt) everyone would have accepted it and moved on. But Broadsheet is stonewalling worse than Noirín O’Sullivan. The irony of this hypocritical position from champions of investigative journalism is going right over their heads. It may be on a tiny scale but the fact that Broadsheet deals with embarrassing and potentially illegal situations by covering them up and instituting a wall of silence speaks volumes. It’s the principle that counts.
I won a prize here ages ago. The guys who were supposed to hand over the prize were very slow in doing so. The Broadsheet guys were nothing but helpful in sorting it out for me.
So we should excuse unethical behaviour just because they’re generally nice guys? That’s not right. They have to be held to account like anyone else: perhaps even to a higher standard, given their editorial position.
No doubt they’re decent people and the vast majority of their competitions are fine. Mistakes are forgivable but a deliberate policy of covering them up without explanation is not. I can’t believe how badly their instincts are off on this one.
” But Broadsheet is stonewalling worse than Noirín O’Sullivan.”
She’s right.. I think we need an inquiry here.. A Who Ate The Chocolate, inquiry.
My money’s on Karl..
In fairness if a nice package of chocolate arrived at head quarters, and you’re looking at the chocolate for a few hours.. and the smell is just inviting you to have a little taste.. which would you choose? That’s right, not you, you miserable c***. Get a life.
I’m joking of course.
In fact I recall winning beer once and I suggested sending it to some of the admins.. and they refused to accept it.
You can’t control how a company behave.
You’re not joking, you just can’t control how horrible and mean you are. I think it’s a question worth asking; you’re obviously entitled to disagree but your vicious insults are bang out of order.
It might be a question worth asking.. as in, what happen the chocolate. Not your tirade of comparing it to garda corruption.
I think they should have a weekly spoof competition going forward.,,.it’d be great craic watching the likes of you getting your knickers in a twist.
Admins, will ye tell her what happened the chocolate please and stop this stonewalling?
I love a bit of farce meself but this joculate thing is a choke.
Short it out.
I don’t care about the chocolate at all but I do care about hypocrisy. It really gets under my skin and makes me reach for the flaming sword. Investigations into corruption and coverups are by far the best thing about Broadsheet, so to see them do something dodgy and institute a cover-up themselves is extremely disappointing. If they choose to act without integrity that reflects poorly on them; if people like you can’t appreciate the significance, that’s on you. I’m glad I tried to right a wrong, even if a small one. Peace out.
Best Dylan lyric in the whole canon.
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be
I’m a-thinking and a-wonderin’ walking down the road
I once loved a woman, a child I am told
I gave her my heart but she wanted my soul
But don’t think twice, it’s all right.
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be:
“Ah, but I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now”
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a bowl of soup
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a rolling hoop
Nobel Laureate quality right there.
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be from Make you feel my Love –
The storms are raging on the rollin’ sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain’t seen nothing like me yet
I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn’t do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
To make you feel my love
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe
Since Trump is still talking.
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be:
“Now, you see this one-eyed midget shouting the word “Now”
And you say, “For what reason?” and he says, “How”
And you say, “What does this mean?” and he screams back, “You’re a cow!
Give me some milk or else go home”
And you know something’s happening but you don’t know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?”
from Ballad of a Thin Man
Probably too late here, but “Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream” is a hoot:
Now, I didn’t mean to be nosy
But I went into a bank
To get some bail for Arab
And all the boys back in the tank
They asked me for some collateral
And I pulled down my pants
They threw me in the alley
When up comes this girl from France
Who invited me to her house
I went, but she had a friend
Who knocked me out
And robbed my boots
And I was on the street again
To my mind the finest Bob Dylan lyric can only be:
“Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles
See the primitive wallflower frieze
When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
Hear the one with the mustache say, “Jeeze
I can’t find my knees.”
Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.”
from Visions of Johanna
or
“Your cracked country lips
I still wish to kiss
As to be by the strength of you skin
Your magnetic movements
Still capture the minutes I’m in
But it grieves my heart, love
To see you tryin’ to be a part of
A world that just don’t existv It’s all just a dream, babe
A vacuum, a scheme, babe
That sucks you into feelin’ like this.”
from To Ramona
“The beauty parlour is full of sailors” desolation row, from highway 61 revisited, because the closing sequence of the 1970 isle of wight festival.
http://youtu.be/6usnSx6QvLQ
Captures the death throws of the hippie dream so perfectly, not 12 months after its birth at woodstock.
Not a dry eye in the house…
I do beg your collective pardons, thats not the exact footage i had in mind.
Instead its tge end sequence to this movie which is based on the same thing.
http://m.imdb.com/title/tt0117028/
Still have a copy of this somewhere in svcd (anyone remember those)
“So rock me momma like a wagon wheel
Rock me momma any way you feel
Hey, momma rock me
Rock me momma like the wind and the rain
Rock me momma like a south bound train
Hey, momma rock me
“Ride me sideways, that was anudder one”
I muttered something underneath my breath
She studied the lines on my face
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe
“The only thing I knew how to do
was to keep on keepin’ on
like a bird that flew
Tangled Up In Blue”